surfer girl

When I try something new, I tend to go all in with it and go big. That is definitely true of the first time I went surfing. We were in Oahu, Hawaii at Waikiki beach and I wanted to try surfing. My aunt, who aimed to please, signed the consent form and I was off to take surfing lessons. I did a group lesson, and was fortunate that there were only 2 other folks in my group, so I did get the attention that a newbie needed.


To start with, we spent what seemed like forever on the beach, practicing standing on our boards. I thought it was silly, but I really wanted to learn how to surf, so I went with the flow. We had to jump around and all sorts of crazy dance moves on our boards. I felt a little odd, but there was a method to the madness of it.

The first thing we learned to do in the water was to paddle our board. In most cases, you will be paddling out to catch a wave, not being towed out. (save the towing for experts). Watching someone do it makes paddling look easy, but believe me, its not! You have to get on a piece of wood in at least waist deep water, keeping your balance. Laying on your belly, you need keep yourself balanced and paddling your board toward a giant wave. Even if it doesn’t look giant from the shore line, when you are in the ocean, believe me it looks huge.

Since waves are continuous, you need to learn how to duck dive. This, for me, was a difficult concept to master, and I don’t think I ever really got the rhythm down. You basically force you and your board under the wave and then let it roll under you. Our instructor spent a lot of time on this, as it is very important to be able to do, and I in turn, spent a lot of time water logged.

“Catching a Wave” is the whole purpose of surfing. In order to do so, you need balance, timing and luck. Basically, you need to point your board to the beach. We practiced for what seemed like forever to be able to feel one with the wave. For me, this was not a natural feeling, and quite honestly, it was a huge struggle. Everything that you are supposed to do to catch a wave is counter intuitive for me. I had perfected my duck dive earlier in the day, but now I wasn’t supposed to, so I was confused. The ultimate goal is to stand up on your board in one smooth, fluid motion. When I tried, I was less than graceful, and I spent a lot of time in the ocean, under my board, beside my board, everywhere but on my board. I wish I could tell you that I perservered and at the end of my lesson I was riding the Pipeline, but alas that would be fiction.

Contrary to popular belief, surfing is not confined to California or Hawaii. In fact, some of the greatest east coast waves are found in New Hampshire, Maine, Rhode Island and Massachusetts. I tried surfing at the Wall in New Hampshire, on the Cape, Narangassett in Rhode Island, and Popham Beach in Maine (it actually was all one trip). The best east coast surfing time is actually in the fall, due to hurricane season, and October is prime surfing time in NJ. I never did actually surf in NJ all the years I lived there, but I had friends that did and they swore it was as good, if not better than Pacific ocean waves.

Snow

I used to love to ski. In the winter time, I would be on the slopes as much as finances would allow. It was my passion. I was never really good at it and was never going to make the Olympics, but I loved it. The feeling of the wind rushing past you as you went flying down the side of a mountain-words can not describe it. I learned to ski at Park City, so I started off being spoiled in terms of powder and grooming. There is something about six inches at least of powder that you just whip through going down the mountain.
I was proud of the raccoon ran my goggles gave me. It was my badge of courage.
I loved the fact I could take the ski bus from the valley floor to Alta, Snowbird or Brighton (which back then offered night skiing!) and be hitting the slopes after school was way too cool.
When I was in college in New Hampshire, I used to ski at Cannon Mountain on a regular basis and would bum around New England and ski with my friends.
Skiing in New England is completely different than skiing in Utah. For one thing, it's very rocky and icy. The grade of the mountains are very different, which creates a different trajectory as you whiz down hill. I'm not saying one is better than the other, they are just different.
I had the opportunity to ski Maine, New Hampshire and Vermont. The former and latter were both great, but New Hampshire was very craggy and rocky and less enjoyable. I could see myself being a ski bum for a good chunk of my life, and it was a great way to make winter tolerable.
I had always dreamt of traveling through Europe and ski many of the places i had visited as a child, including Switzerland and Austria. I would love to try the French alps especially as I've been told that it is the european equivalent to Utah.
When I was in my 20’s, I would go to the Poconos with friends, but then life took over and I didn’t have as much free time or disposable income. Skiing took a back seat as priorities shifted. A new group of friends took hold, with different interests, and they were less outdoorsy. I haven’t been skiing since I was about 30 and I don’t know if I could relearn at my age and my size. I would love to take the kids, and we have a great place here in town (complete with tow rope!) to go and learn. Winters on the plains are long, snowy and quite insufferable. However, skiing might make it less so.

Keep on running

I have been running since I was in high school. I used to love the solitude of it, but as I got older and more creaky, it hurts a lot more than it used to. Add to it the fact that I am much bigger than I was in high school, and its hard to move let alone run. My husband’s cousin Dana runs marathons, and when I am training for my little 5k, I think of her running 26.2 miles like its nothing.
I actually have a love hate relationship with running. When I'm in shape, I love it, especially this time of year. I used to particularly enjoy running in Princeton with a few friends at lunch, when it was a little bit cold but you could still inhale without it hurting your lungs. I loved the oranges and reds and vibrancy. I liked running past ETS (home of the SAT) on Rosedale Rd. I enjoyed the bit of competitiveness of running with a group but I also enjoy running alone.
I stopped running a lot when I got married. It's not the big Man's fault, it's a choice I made. Back then, he worked crazy hours and whatever time we had together was precious. I chose to spend my time with him rather than running.
I don't get a lot of alone time anymore, since my family continues to expand. My sanity is getting up early, going on the treadmill and right now, walking. Because of the new hernia and where it's located, it hurts to run.
The new hernia showed up sometime in June, about 6 months post op. Right now, I look like I swallowed a basketball. I'm not pleased. Imagine being 9 months pregnant. That is how I feel and look. It's even hard to do yoga, which is breaking my heart entirely.
One day, when I am hernia free, I can seriously start running again. Id love to have the kids join me, and make it a sort of family affair. I'd love to run more 5ks & 10ks. I know I can do it, I've got the drive & determination. Eventually I can work my way up and be like Dana, running the NYC marathon. (she's the gal in the pictures)



One day…

mountain song

Once upon a time, i decided i wanted to climb a mountain. I had a dream that i wanted to make a reality.
To start, I tried bouldering. It's a natural origination point. It's a short climb, and you have to see your route (or problem) before you attempt it. You are not that high off the ground, so you can focus on the climb itself. It's perfect to learn technique. The first place I went bouldering was at Blair Woods in southern NH. It was autumn, the trees were ablaze, and a few folks I knew from debate and the newspaper were going. I got talked into it....by the end of the afternoon, I was hooked.
Bouldering is one thing, with a giant mattress to break your fall if the rock should choose to eject you; climbing Kilamanjaro is something all together different.
I used to go rock climbing when I was in college in New Hampshire. I always used to joke with my friends that they were baby mountains and it was good practice.
I was so serious about it I had my own shoes and chalk bag.
There is something instinctive about climbing. Primal. I never attempted a solo climb, and was always dependent on others, but that's ok. You literally are one with the surface you are climbing.
Rock climbing is a combination of visual processing and vertical ballet. The visual processing part is determining where you are going to backstep or toe hold or what kind of hand grip you are going to use. Not being focused could have a negative impact: you could slip, fall, break a limb, render yourself unconscious or worse-dead. Climbing was the first time I "got it" about meditation. I was able to truly empty my mind and have a laser like focus.
I have climbed Canyon Cliff, which is home to the Old Man in the Mountain, Toe Crack and Thin Air and of course, my favorite, Deirdre (I would say, sure I climbed myself!)
As time marched on, I moved back to NJ and my friends there were not into as many outdoors pursuits, so I lost surface interest. I still had the desire, but no one to go with. Instead of really pursuing it, I stuffed it down inside, and once in a while the urge resurfaces. Once I met the Big Man, it pretty much was over for us climbing together-nature boy he is not! He doesn't have that same innate connection to the great outdoors that I do. There's nothing wrong with it, but I would love to have the kids enjoy it as much as I do, and be outdoors as a family.
I've tried over the last several years to climb on an indoor rock wall, but quite frankly, I'm too big right now to pull myself up. I couldn't hang on nor was I was able to get a good toe hold. My current size prevents me from doing things, like climbing, I enjoy. I don't pursue things that will help me get in shape because I feel guilty about taking me time (also I have a hard time working out in front of the family). So it's a vicious cycle.
The princess used to rock climb. In fact there used to be a great indoor rock climbing place in Lawrenceville, NJ she & her friends went to in high school. I don't know if she pursued it to the great outdoors, but she and the little man would race each other on the wall at the Washington Pavillion.
Currently? I take the pictures.
One day...