In theory, I should be working. I say this because there are things that need to be done to keep the team moving at work while I’m away. I say “in theory” because when I checked the Jira board today, I discovered that I’d already done quite a bit of work in advance. Enough, even, to pre-schedule a good chunk of Sprint 3.
Which meant I could go stand-up paddleboarding again.
Alex and Allen were going on a hike around Rolley Lake and suggested I come along for the ride. It seemed like a good chance to get a bit more familiar with the practice, get down some of the habits. Monkey had school work to do, and Choo Choo was still asleep.
Being only a Tuesday, there weren’t many at the lake already, so getting a parking spot in the shade of the warming morning wasn’t difficult. I hauled out the bag for one of the boards, unfolded it, plugged in the pump, and got to the action. It took about seven minutes, all told, including tucking the bag back into the car, and lugging myself down to the water.
I did discover that we’ve lost one of the three fins that slide into the bottom. Lost on the first use, no less. In theory, it’s still at Whonnock Lake. I’ll have to spin up there to see if it’s still there. If I’m lucky.
Like Whonnock Lake, Rolley was nice – not too warm, but not chilly – so getting going was pretty easy. I stuck to the south side, figuring I could catch up to Alex and Allen, maybe even spy them through the trees. But the path isn’t always close and although I could swear I could hear Allen at times (ministers tend to have voices that carry), I couldn’t see them.
I continued on my counterclockwise route, working on my stroke and trying not to off balance myself. Though still wobbly, I seemed to be handling the stroke-stroke-switch-stroke-stroke-switch process fairly well. Even enough that I could steer away from a mother with her two younger children (one who was rather desperate to cast his fishing rod as I passed).
Then the board stopped. I, however, did not. I found myself in the drink.
It took a moment to realize that my remaining fin – the large one – had caught on a submerged log that I hadn’t seen. The sudden stop threw my already tenuous balance out the window, and me into the lake. I cursed myself, somehow believing I should have been better than that, then worked to get myself back on the board.
I will state that the only thing harder than trying to get back onto a paddleboard while wearing a life jacket is trying to get back into a canoe without swamping it.
No-one had noticed nor apparently cared for my incident. I sat on the board and paddled myself away from shore. After a few moments for my panting to cease, I rose back up and resumed my route, heading along the north shore back to the west side.
One advantage of hitting the drink was noticing the other paddleboarders, of which there were several. I was concerned, of course, of what they thought of my tumble, which as it turned out, was nothing. But I did notice one woman’s stance and stroke, which hinted at why I might be having trouble with the balance. She was dipping down with the paddle, rising while pulling back.
So I tried to mimic it. I don’t know of it’s “right” (I haven’t exactly invested in much YouTube on this yet) but after a few minutes of trying it myself, the wobble had minimized and I felt much more capable. But I did stay away from the shoreline, just in case.
By the time I got the west side, I was feeling better, but my feet were cramping from the motion. Something I’m sure will eventually go away with additional practice.
Packing the board up took less time, as I’m more familiar with the process. I was done well in advance of Alex and Allen returning from their sojourn.
I’m hoping to get out at least one more time before we head back to Calgary. I definitely want to this once we get home, too.
