Movie Trailer: Tiger Claw: The True Story Of Shredding The Gnar

I whipped this up with the help of imovie - I giggled (and snorted) the entire time I put this together. I hope you think it's as hilarious as I do! The full story of the "finale" (it was kind of awesome) will be up in a few days, along with my new challenge for the month of October. Enjoy my movie trailer. bahahah...snort...bahahaha.

Riding with Team Touque

What an awesome surprise! When I arrived for my second last (boo) longboarding lesson on Thursday, I was greeted by Randy and some members of the 10 foot touque longboarding team - Josh 2.0 (not sure where the 2.0 came from, but I like it. Impulsive name change...wait for it...Kirstie 5.7 - my height. Steazy and practical.), Scott (Scott, do you have a nickname?), Jake (self-proclaimed, "prodigal Child of My Era" - Prodigy???), and J-Turn, along with his lil buddy, Zac. The kids ranged in age from 14 to 21. Bass couldn't make it. He, apparently, was sick in bed. Remember Bass from my first lesson? If that kid had a soundtrack, it would be Bob Marley's Greatest Hits - smooth and chill. They called poor Bass multiple times, claiming there was "a chick who thinks you're hot" waiting for him at the Touque.  I looked around. I was the only "chick." Oh dear. Lawyer!!!

We stood at the intersection, ready to hit up the trail. Apparently if you press the walk light 45 times (as fast and as hard as you can), the light will change. Eventually. It's full-proof. Good tip, boys. Randy could sense my trepidation, "Don't let them intimidate you. Just do your thing. Don't feel like you have to keep up." No shit. But you know what? within minutes these kids put me at ease. J-Turn, the oldest team member there (other than Randy :), immediately chatted me up, expressing how stoked he was that I was attempting this. The guys never once made me feel like an inconvenience, an old lady or a super nerdy newb. Or worse...a NOOB. They were hilarious, helpful, entertaining, and extremely talented.

It quickly became apparent that the self proclaimed "prodigal child of his era", Jake, was the mouthpiece  verbally advanced member of the group. To be honest, he kinda reminded me of myself. "Hey guys watch this!" "I can do that." "No, I'll do it better." This kid cracked me up!
"Watch this - I call it Captain and cola." He stood on this board stoically with one foot lifted in the air.
"Jake, where did ya get that name?" inquired Josh 2.0.
"It's written on a glass that my dad has."
I quickly offered Jake a tip of my own, "Jake, if someone asks you to sail the high seas with the Captain, proceed with caution."

Jake has many looks. this one's "pensive"

He stared at me blankly. Some night (when he's 19, of course), he will be out drinking with the boys and will recall my words of wisdom. It could save him from a wicked hangover. My lawyer has an interesting story about a night with the Captain; however, I took an oath (zipping gesture on lips).
"Jake, are you, by any chance, an only child?"
 "Nope. Got a sister. She's old. (Note: she's 20. Old? He must think I'm a flippin' grandma). She's kinda weird. She moved in with her boyfriend. She comes home and takes our ketchup and peanut butter and stuff." Right.      

The boys watched me butcher  enthusiastically attempt my trick , providing tips and positive feedback along the way. Scott recommended that I turn my back foot slight to gain more control over my board when I pop it up. It helped. In awe, I watched these kids land (and occasionally not land) shove-its, back mannies, front mannies, 360's, Captain & Cola's, etc, etc, etc. Not only are these kids phenomenal athletes, but they also have wicked personalities. I haven't snorted like that in months! (I snort when something is legitimately funny. Sometimes Ev tries to elicit the snort with tickling. No go. I don't fake snorts). Anyways, I was so impressed. I asked Randy if they were preparing for a competition. Apparently, the sport is so new, that longboarding skill competitions don't yet exist - only downhill (speed) racing (Can you say, ass-breaker??). So, the goal is to send in video footage of the guys riding, with the hopes of gaining sponsorship by a longboarding brand like "Loaded" or my trusty board, "Bucsu." Randy is currently in the process of putting those vids together.

I had a little chat with Josh 2.0, the quiet, introspective member of the team.
"What school do you go to, Josh?"
"Carlton"
"Hey, I went there too" (I'm sure he thought, 'Ya sure - with Tyrannosaurus and Triceratops') "Are there different areas in the school where certain groups hang out? Like, when I went to school, the skaters hung out in the 'Gardens.' Is it still like that?"
"Um. No. Not really. I think the kids that play with Pokemon Cards (HUH?) hang in the Gardens. But other than that, everyone just kinda hangs out wherever."
"Wow - that's great!"

Evan! STOP THE PUCK!

Now that would have prevented a lot of unnecessary teenage angst. God, thinking back to my high school experience, my tiny self-absorbed world was consumed by "fitting in." Somewhere. Anywhere. Where should my locker be located? Who should I eat lunch with? It frickin stressed me out! I need a label! Skater? Goth? Jock? No, Lucky me, I was a "puck." Definition: one who gets passed from hockey player to hockey player (whoa whoa whoa! Let's not get out of hand, people. I hung out with the PA Raiders, OK? They had matching green and gold tracksuits - who can resist that?) In an unexpected twist of fate, I actually ended up marrying the Raiders' Goalie - ironically, the player whose job it is to STOP the puck. Things that make you go...hmmmm...

You know what? These kids have it all figured out. Team touque is the epitome of steeze. I had the BEST longboarding session of my short (yet uber fulfilling) career. Randy has done a fantastic job of finding and bringing this group of guys together. I can't wait to see them rock the longboarding world!
Thanks, guys!
PS: Only 2 more sleeps to land my trick whilst  :) exuding steaze - EEEEEEKKKKKSSSSSS

The day I (almost) ruined my sister's v'ball career

So I've been meaning to post this since last Saturday, but I had to ensure that Kayla was truly fine after our weekend mishap before I poked fun of it on my blog (because that's what an nice sister would do) :)

Kayla entered the world in 1993. I was 15. My dad had just recently re-common-lawed (is that a word?) and I was super pumped to have gained Lori (my step-sister), who conveniently was 1 year older, a "cool" girl, hilarious, and really NICE to me! That's a huge score in grade 11 (plus, she was friends with the boy I was crushing on - double score!) This all happened pretty fast - our parents moving in, having a baby, and hoping/expecting us to function as a family, given Lor and I had grown up as only children. Sounds like a recipe for disaster, right? Thank God it just somehow worked. We were the "functional dysfunctional family," and now that I'm an adult, I can't imagine my life without Lori and Kayla.

Lori is now married, living in PA, working as an Orthoptist (eyes) and has 2 super cool kids - they are hilarious, waaaay more advanced than any other children I've ever met :) and just solid, good kids.  Kayla is now 17, attending the University of Saskatchewan in Saskatoon....and a middle for the U of S Huskie Volleyball team (How cool is that? Lor also played college v'ball in the states - that must be a gene that I don't share). Kayla's confident, enthusiastic, positive, and smart. Plus she's super attractive (haha, she looks like me, poor girl) :) I'm so proud to have these girls as my sisters.

Me, Kayla, and Lor: functional dysfunction

Kayla was home for the weekend and has repeatedly commented on how stoked she is that I'm longboarding. I told her she should come for a ride. She borrowed her buddy's longboard, grabbed a helmet, and away we went. My stepmom wasn't super pumped about it, "Don't get hurt." Little did I know the next time I would speak with my stepmom I would be questioning whether or not I was responsible for the decimation of Kayla's volleyball career. At the time, we brushed off her concern, "No worries. We're steezy," replied Kayla (yes! she's reading my blog!) So we set out behind St. Francis School. Kayla picked it up quickly - all limbs, mind you, but she was holding her own, carving down the path quite nicely.

I saw some boys rippin' out tricks on their longboards by the playground and had to go over and check them out. Kayla followed reluctantly, repeating, "Oh my god I'm so embarrassed."
"No, it's cool. Longboarders are cool. It will be fine."

"Hey."
7 apathetic teen boys stared at me blankly, likely questioning whose mom I was and what the hell I was doing wandering the streets in a helmet.
"Hey, can you guys do any tricks?"
"Yep!"
7 teen boys broke off and with as much enthusiasm as a 14 year old boy dares to demonstrate, they fired off slides, shove-its, front mannies, back mannies, and flippy floppy 720's (made that last one up).
"Cool! that's awesome! Can you guys do the Tiger Claw?"
One of the kids (who I later found out was "Jake") lit up, "Hey, you're that girl that's working with Randy - I heard about you!"
"Yep, that's me." I shrugged it off like it was no biggie. Inside, I was screaming, "PA celeb! PA celeb! (with the teen boy longoarding community, nevertheless, but you gotta start somewhere)
"Ya, it's going well - just having a tough time dropping the acid, you know?"
7 apathetic teen boys stared at me blankly.

This just in: It is NOT "dropping THE acid," nor is it "dropping acid." It is the "ACID DROP." Randy texted me, "ACID DROP. STOP DROPPING ACID!" Oops. I'm so embarrassed.


At least Kayla was impressed. Yep, I KNOW people. haha. We headed off and noticed one of the boys' moms heading out quickly to speak with the group. I'm pretty sure she was scolding the boys, "Stranger Danger!" with tales of 32 year old ladies who prey on teenage boys. Shit. Must contact lawyer immediately for damage control.

Wind at our backs and steeze on our side, Kayla and I cruised down the Rotary Trail without a care in the world. I noted a slight slope to our trail and warned my little buddy, "Use your foot break."
"My what?"
"Your foot..."
(Too late, Kayla crashed to the pavement)

Huskie down! Huskie down!

Huge rip in jeans (people pay money for a clean rip like that), Kayla shrugged off the fall, claimed she was fine, and wiped some blood off her knee. We carried on.  


Fast forward 1 hour later when I got the phonecall from my stepmom,
"Kayla is in emergency getting an IV!"
"What happened? Did she suddenly become dehydrated?"
"No. From the longboarding. She hurt her knee badly and is in the hospital!"
(Huh? Did I miss something? Something important, evidently).
"I'll head to emerg right now!"

I sped to the hospital. Mind whirling, I tried to piece together how the h Kayla went from laughing off a minor wipeout to requiring an IV in emerg. Oh frick. I mean, she walked away from that wipeout. No tears. No major complaints. Perhaps she was in shock? She was kind of goofy. Wait, she's always kinda goofy. Oh F. I ruined her volleyball career. Shit. And she was so awesome. Damn. Probably too late to contact my lawyer.

I entered emerg in a panic, only to spot my little buddy seated (intact) in a chair, looking highly unimpressed and a tad sheepish.

"Oh my god, I'm so embarrassed."
"WHAT is going on?"

As it turned out, Kayla's mom encouraged her to head to a walk-in clinic, as her cut was bleeding pretty badly (both Kayla and her mom HATE the sight of blood). Kayla was lucky enough to see Dr. Overreactmuch who prescribed an IV antibiotic in ER to prevent the possibility of infection. Are you serious? Anyone who works in healthcare knows that an oral antibiotic taken for a few days would have done the trick.

So, side-by-side, my little buddy and I sat in emerg, IV antibiotic infusing.
"So, wanna meet Lor for dinner when this is done?" I inquired.
"Suresies."
"Think you'll ever play volleyball again?"
"Pretty sure it'll be ok."
"Awesome."
"Hey, Kirst, let's longboard to the restaurant."
bahaha. Right on.


Update: Kayla is currently on the court, playing middle for the U of S Huskies V'ball Team. She reports that everything is "cool."

Pearl Jam!

Anyone who knew Ryan knew how much he loved Pearl Jam. After his funeral and service (where we heard all his favorite PJ songs), I noticed Ev (whose always been a PJ fan) become a PJ "super fan," listening to old PJ CD's in his truck, humming PJ tunes at home, and listening to PJ radio on XFM at the gym (non-stop Pearl Jam! Wow, you have a to be an amazing band to have an XFM radio station strictly devoted to you!) So, it was a no-brainer that we try our hardest to get the best PJ tickets possible and hit them up in Saskatoon - and so glad we did...what an unreal concert!

Hey Eddie! Can you smell skunk?

Our seats were 10 rows up, directly to the right of the stage. We could basically see up Eddie Vedder's nose when he tipped his head back (it's clean :). I could just hear Holowaty's high pitched girlie squeal, "Look at your f'n seats, bro!" Although, not a PJ "super" fan (well... I did listen to "Better Man" on repeat for 3 weeks straight post painful grade 10 break-up), I was so impressed with the performance. It's not often that you get to witness the act of a true rockstar. Eddie really has that whole "rockstar" thing down to a science: pointing to his fans in  the upper deck (those are your true fans because they paid money for shit seats - thanks, Jamie Adrian for clarifying that), jumping on the speakers (while playing the guitar, of course), running your hands through your hair (like you're a tortured soul), hanging off the mic (backwards, forwards, sideways), and my favorite: the giant arm windmill on the guitar. As a Speech-Language Pathologist, I was also very pleased to see Eddie's fantastic vocal hygiene regime, which consisted of frequent hydration in between songs (water, wine, beer, whatever - it's liquid). The crowd was also very entertaining. I thoroughly enjoyed the twenty-something guy next me who felt the need to scream "Whoo Hoo!" every 3-4 minutes whilst (hehe:) dumping half his beer on the man in front of him who calmly replied, "Do that again, and I'll 'fn kill you (Whoa. A touch excessive?). And who can forget the middle-aged dude in the Boston Bruins jersey on the floor who recognized someone in the stands every 5 minutes, yelling, "It's Me! Look at my seats!" What surprised me the most; however, was the marijuana. Did I not get the memo? Is pot legal at Pearl Jam concerts? I will have to consult my lawyer on this one.  At one point (during "Alive" - Awesome!), I thought the crowd was waving lighters. You, know, to show Eddie that they were feelin' it. Nope. Those were joints. Well, whatevs. I'll stick to the wine (That's right. I drank wine at Pearl Jam. Don't judge me).

Anyways, Ryan would have LOOOOOVEd it. I thought about him a lot. I know Ev did too.  During "Elderly Woman Behind a Counter in a Small Town" (what a title! I call it "fade away"), I felt sad. I missed Ryan. I love the lyrics and Eddie's smooth deep voice:

"I just want to scream...hello
My God, it's been so long, never dreamed you'd return
But now here you are and here I am,
hearts and thoughts they fade...away."

I'm sure there's some deep rockstar meaning to those lyrics, but I chose to listen to those words and remember our friend Ryan - his energy, his uniqueness, his enthusiasm, his friendship...So Ev and I held on tight, swayed to the music, wiped the tears from our face, and rocked on...because Holowaty would want us to rock on.

Chicks That Longboard

So I met with Randy Thursday night for my 3rd offical longboarding lesson. As usual, it was so much fun, and I have to admit that I'm becoming addicted to this unique sport. And it truly is a sport - not just an interesting mode of transportation. I'm getting that now. I'm certain that my brain is creating new highways, and even intersecting these new highways with pre-existing ones! We went out last week for what was likely our last wakesurf of the season (boo winter!) and I have never felt better behind the boat. For one, after rolling down a concrete hill on my ass, hitting the water at 10k is really not THAT big of deal. Really. I was fearless. It's amazing what you can do when you're not afraid. It's that whole commitment thing that Randy alluded to in our first lesson. Second, I'm sure my technique improved as well - that carving action on the longboard actually translates on the wave! I'm so happy! I mean, I'm stoked :) Randy was stoked as well and gave me "The official pocketbook of Longboarding." I thought it was really cool (because Randy gave it me to) until my friend, Heidi, pointed out that "real" longboarders probably don't carry the official pocketbook to longboarding around. Hmmm...good point. I will ask Randy if he has one in his wallet.

The "Tiger Claw" is coming along...step-by-step. We soon realized that the trick will need to be modified (slightly), given that I ride "goofy" (right foot forward). Mild panic set in until Randy reassured me that this 'mod' would be gnarly. So, it was determined that I will be attempting a gnarlier version of the Tiger Claw - the "Thirsty Kirstie." Wow. A trick named after me? Only Child Syndrome kickin' into high gear folks. haha. The issue is that my board needs to be facing forward when I've completed the trick, so that I can keep it steazy. The solution is some sort of baton twirling move - I flip the board around from hand to hand in the air (try NOT to smack my face in the process) and then just land on it. No big deal. Just land on it: AKA "drop'n acid". Randy corrected me,"Not dropping THE acid." ) Hmmm... not quite there yet. Randy, who is one fantastic coach, pumped my tires, telling me that this new version of the Tiger Claw would be unreal. Basically, I'm paving the way for female longboarders everywhere! (Well, that's how I heard it :) haha. That got me thinking... where are all these female longboarders? I've chatted up a few longboarding males (unfortunately, they all tend to be under 14 years of age - my lawyer advises me against engaging in conversation with these young males for more than 10 minutes :) It usually goes something like this:

"Hey Zac," (Zac is 14) "can you do any tricks on your longboard?"
"Well, when my brother lets me borrow it and I'm done my homework. Sorta. I dunno. Whatever."
(Right. Homework. This is going well)
"What can you do?"
 "Um...well I can slide."
(I nod head and smile)
"Cool."
(What the h is sliding? Must ask coach.)
"I'm working on the Tiger Claw. After work...you know, when my husband's not stealing my board."
 (uncomfortable polite head nod from Zac).
"Ok. Gotta go, my mom's here!"

I mean, it's great to discuss longboarding with anyone who's into the sport; however, I'm frightening these poor young boys and I need a more mature point of view. A mature female point of view.

Case in point: Drew Danielo, 5 time world wakesurfing champion. Evan became obsessed with wakesurfing this summer. He and my lawyer's husband, Darren, became so focused on "progressing the sport," that pre and post video analysis was not an uncommon practice on our boat this summer. My lawyer and I laughed it off, mixed a cocktail (I mean, not ON the boat, that would be illegal), and surfed for fun while Ev and Darren analyzed their speed, angles, and the state of our wave. Then Ev found Drew. Drew is an unreal wakesurfer (You have to be pretty decent to win 5 world championships!) He lives in Florida. He and Ev soon became friends. Let me clarify. Ev stalked him on facebook and became a "fan" of his page. They are now "friends." haha. Ev sends Drew little messages on fb and Drew responds with inspirational words of wisdom, "God Bless and Shred Man!" (Drew's quite religious). Ev channels Drew when he wakesurfs, inquiring, "What would Drew do?" when a trick isn't working and occasionally crosses himself  prior to a trick (Ev is not catholic). Drew sent Ev a fb message, "Come down to FLA and we'll go for a ride." Ev giggled like a schoolgirl  for days! I love it. I need a female "Drew." I explained my predicament to Randy. He's going to introduce me to Team 10 foot Touque (these guys are amazing longboarders - I saw the video and can't wait to see these guys ride) and he gave me the name of my new "Drew." Enter Amanda Powell, longboarding chick extraordinaire! I googled her and initially was confused to find a middle-aged conservative looking woman who teaches Spanish. Oops...apparently, there is more than 1 Amanda Powell?! Will the 'real' Amanda Powell please stand up?

Me thinks it's her

mature longboarding chick?

I also spent some time googling "longboarding chicks" and found some interesting sites :0 (warning: do not google 'longboarding chicks' at work!) One legit site about girls that longboard reads: Hey dudes!!! Chicks that board! Purrrrttty ladies who aren't scared to jump on the board! So if you're a down ass chick who knows your way around a board, submit your pics and follow." It's actually an interesting site with tons of pictures of female athletes on their boards. Not posers. Fantastic for young girls looking for inspiration! I'm trying to determine if I'm a "down ass chick." I went down hard on my ass. Does that count? (corny, corny joke. Sorry). Perhaps there's a special site for the mature 'thirtysomething' longboarding lady. Nope. That doesn't exist. Perhaps whilst (there it is! there it is!) learning how to longboard, I will start my own Mature Luscious Ladies of Longboarding Club (kinda like a book club, you know...but better) Any takers?
God Bless and Shred!
Kirst

practice...practice...practice

I can't believe it's mid-September!!! I have to nail this "Lion  Panther  Tiger Claw" before the end of the month? Yikes. Ev and I put together a practice reel. I certainly appreciate the comments from the many observers I've encountered during my practice runs. Honourable mentions include:

"So what exactly are you trying to do?"


"I looked out the window and said, 'well there's a little boy skateboarding down our street...wait! that's Kirstie!'"

And...my favourite... from an 8 year old boy, "Aren't you like a mom?"
haha!
enjoy!

Lesson #2: Pop it like it's hot

So I may have overreacted. This is surprising, as I'm not one who typically embelishes, exaggerates, or overdramatizes events (snicker snicker). I did not break my sit bone. It's fine. To be honest, it's a little disappointing, given the severity of my fall, that I have absolutely nothing other than a small quarter sized bruise on my left cheek to show for it. Don't get me wrong. I did not want to break my sit bone. From the comments provided on facebook, it is apparent that many have experienced such an event. I have a feeling it may be linked to chidbirth, but since we're being honest here, I don't want to know. Don't tell me.

Following the "sit bone" incident, I consulted my coach, "Think I broke my ass. Please advise." To which he responded, "Don't forget the foot break." Foot break? Right. I was so wrapped up with steeze that I forgot about the foot break. Anxiously awaiting my next lesson, I dedicated my next practice session to foot breaking (using my back foot to slow myself down when needed).

Ev accompanied me on my practice rides and has taken a keen interest in my new sport; however, I feel he has ulterior motives, other than to provide support. He wants to ride. He wants to get good. I caught him using my board on the sly and didn't like it. Don't get me wrong, he has every right to take up this awesome sport - in October. Once I've reached my goal. Ev told me that I reminded him of a fish, while providing an uncanny fish imitation (puckered lips, fins flapping). I shook my head when he asked if I knew what kind of fish I reminded him of. No, but this is going to be good. "A selFISH," he replied. Bahaha. Yep, he's right.

So ego slightly bruised (quarter-sized to be exact), I entered 10 foot touque for my next lesson. I'm not gonna lie to you - it was epic. Fantastic lesson! Check it out:

5:30: Meet with Randy. No Bass today (perhaps he's at a textathon :). No lawyer (She's busy crime fighting).  Randy inquires about my ass. It's fine. Let's go!
5:40: We head down to the Riverbank to conquer the Rotary Trail. It's hot. 33 above. There's a drunk man laying under a tree. I'm pretty sure I saw him exit detox this a.m (I wasn't at detox, by the way, I work next to it) Yikes. That didn't work well for that man.
5:45: I show Randy my moves. He's impressed! He says I look much more comfortable on the board. Confidence is high.
5:50: Randy shows me the steps I will need to learn in order to land my trick. Oh yes, my trick. Frick, why didn't I just aspire to "be steezy on a longboard." I had to insert that damn trick. I will consult my lawyer and see if we can remove that clause from the contract.
6:00: In order to perform my trick, ...wait for it..." THE TIGER CLAW" (sounds ferocious, doesn't it?), I will need to learn how to "pop" my board whilst riding (side goal: to include the word "whilst" in every single blog post).
6:05: Popping the board is tough. I channel Snoop (Melissa, you would be sooo proud), and start a little rap as I carve down the trail, "when the pimps in the crib ma, POP it like it's hot." Randy doesn't know this song. He's a metalhead. Apparently he's not into Tiffany either. I'm pretty sure he just needs some exposure.
6:15: We run into rocks/branches/debris on the trail. I ask Randy, "What do you call it when you have to ride through shit?" (thinking there's some clever longboarding term for such an event). "Riding through shit, " he replies. Can't have that. We put our heads together and come up with "Shriding" Not to be confused with "shredding." Perfect. Riding through shit=shriding. Shriding is bad.
6:30: things are going well. My popping is improving (with the help of SNOOP D-O double G), I feel much more comfortable with my carving, and I've been reacquainted with the foot breaking technique (Where were YOU on Tuesday, foot break?). I'm riding with like 20-45% steeze (If I had to put a number on it).
6:40: Randy provides a hot insider tip: Never say, "last try" when you're attempting a trick. It's always the "last try" that results in an accident. Say, "2nd last try." Got it. Not sure exactly WHO we're trying to fool, but I like it. Sneaky.
6:45: Randy shows me the "Look Back." This is awesome. The look back is a sweet little move that you perform when you're steezy on your longboard and a hot chick/guy walks by. You want to check this hot person out, without interrupting your ride, or indicating that you really care that much. It's like, "hey, you're hot...but I'm too busy being steezy on my board. Check you later." I love this move. It cracks me up. See video below.
7:00: Randy asks if I'd like to continue. Hells ya! Then I notice that the path is now running right along side the river with only a handrail separating me from the North Saskatchewan. Now that's a recipe for disaster. How about let's quit now, I reply.
7:05: We run into another interesting PA character. He's chatty. He wants to tell us about his seizures, which he adamantly argues are the result of "a big bag of bad BC weed." Oh dear. I tell him that he should take that talk to the schools anti-drug talk circuit.
7:15: We head back to the store. What a fantastic day! Ev's there, creeping on the boards. Randy shows him a really sweet Boscu board. "This is the one you want, "he says, "in October, of course." Now that's a loyal coach!
Check out the videos:

Is it possible to break your bum?

pretty sure I broke the right sit bone

It's official. I experienced my first longboarding wipeout today. It was legit. I'm not gonna lie to you, I had a crap day at work and decided to purge myself of that frustration whilst longboarding (I love that word...whilst). So in hindsight, I wasn't chill. I broke the cardinal rule of longboarding, "just be chill." Frustrated with my lack of speed (I ride "goofy" - right food forward, which makes it difficult to pump enough speed with my non-dominant left foot), I found a nice little hill behind our gym. Just a nice little hill. Or so I thought. I "dropped some acid" (well, maybe "set down" some acid better describes my timid entry on the board), and started carving down the hill. Wind in my hair, sun on my face, things were lookin' up. This is awesome. I love working at the hospital when it's 30 above, I love making all the decisions with our house build, I can't wait for our dark, cold winter. Things are super! Gaining speed, I wanted to holler, "Look at me! Watch this!" Suddenly, I was no longer carving. I was heading down this flippin' hill full tilt. Panic set in. Abort! Abort! Why didn't I get one of those big sticks (by the way, it's really called "a big stick." For real). Trees. Houses. Bushes. Dogs. Flying past me at the speed of light (well, maybe the speed of sound). I bailed. Throwing myself off my board, I rolled. And rolled. There were forward rolls, backward rolls, shoulder rolls, egg rolls. You name it, I rolled it. Finally coming to a stop, I surveyed the situation. My board was sitting 8 feet in front of me in a perfectly upright position. It stared at me accusingly, "What the h were you trying to pull out there?" Ok, what hurts? I surveyed my pain. Ankle. Is it broken? No. Wrist. Is it broken? No. Ow...my bum!!! Can you break your bum? Fighting through my pain, I mentally referenced my 4th year anatomy textbook. I'm sure there's a bone back there. could it be my coccyx? No, it's the right cheek. The sit bone. Shit. I broke my sit bone. Fractured bum and bruised ego, I propped myself up on all fours and looked around. A teenage boy was slowly sauntering over to me. His ipod was blasting. He was giggling to himself, obviously amused with my display. "That was awesome. You were flying down that hill! I wish I would have got that on video. I'd put it on youtube for sure!" Well, that would have been handy. Oh well...at least somebody saw.


The following video depicts the events described above. This is not an actor. It's not me either. I was wearing a helmet.

Uncomfortable

I feel uncomfortable. As I examine the "5 stages of grief," attempting to make sense of the way I feel, I can't help but think that it's a little presumptuous that this Kubler-Ross person claims to understand MY feelings/reactions after losing MY friend - and then boldly outlines MY feelings in such a simple, easy to learn model. The 5 stages of grief are even accompanied by a helpful acronym (DABDA - denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance). Today I feel "Uncomfortable." Where's that one, Kubler-Ross? Sure, I definitely felt DABDA after Holowaty's death. I am starting to feel acceptance, from time-to-time, especially with the latest news that his best friend, Kyle, is a new father to a healthy baby boy! It's comforting to know that new life is being created. Life does go on. But today, I feel extreme discomfort. As we pack up the cabin and prepare to leave Candle Lake behind for another summer, I can't help but feel that we're leaving Holowaty behind as well.

Our friendship with Holowaty was unique. Although we didn't necessarily see him regularly, he always had a way of keeping in touch, letting us know that he was thinking of us. Whether it was via text, "Werkin today r u serfin?" or e-mail - my personal fav, "IN F'N BALI. IT'S F'N AWESOME. U SHOULD F'N BE HERE!"(He loved his f-bombs!) He always had a way of making you feel like you were an important part of his life. Holowaty's visits were also always memorable. Like a summer storm, Holowaty would blow in and blow out, sometimes on his skateboard, sometimes on his boat, sometimes on his unicycle (my fav - wearing a speedo whilst on his unicycle). He'd come in with such a force, tell us some fantastic story, and blow out again, leaving Ev and I grinning from ear to ear, wondering what the h just happened. Man, do we ever miss those visits. Since Ryan's death, I feel somewhat comforted by his "presence" here at Candle Lake. Although I'm not a particularly spiritual person, I can feel him with us all the time - whether it's while we're sitting around the campfire, marvelling at the northern lights (you should have SEEN the lights "dance" the night before his funeral!), ALMOST landing a 360 on the wakesurf (I can hear his high-pitched excited girly squeal!), or watching one of his best friends, Jamie Chester perform Pearl Jam at the lounge (Holowaty LOVED LOVED LOVED watching/participating while Jamie performed!), he's here. I can feel him. So...I don't want to leave. I don't want summer to be over. I'm not ready to say goodbye. It makes me uncomfortable. The practical side of me says that Holowaty is no longer physically present at Candle Lake. Although I can look out my window, see the islands, and feel comforted knowing that his ashes are now resting in his favorite place, the reality is that he's not wakesurfing in front of our house. That's not the sound of his unicycle on our driveway. That's not his curly fro seated front row center at Jamie's concert. He's now a "presence" and his "presence" can follow me wherever I go. So, I guess I'll take comfort in that. What else can I do? Maybe he'll want to join me longboarding tomorrow. I'm lacking a little speed - in true Holowaty style, maybe he'll blow in and blow out and give me a little push along the way.

Shreddin some gnar


I am so stoked! My moves were supa steezy when I was shreddin the gnar! Hold up, you say.We don't speak no sk8r talk. Ok, let's back it up. I had my first longboarding lesson yesterday and have been sporting a perma-grin ever since. Just so you can join in my excitement, I will break down my epic day for all of you:
September 1, 2011:
4:25pm: At work. Can't concentrate. So flippin' excited, I almost become incontinent. Almost.

4:35: Head to Saskpro CrossFit to show owner/operator/husband, Evan, my new helmet. He agrees to sponsor me. We seal the deal with a sticker for the new helmet

4:40: I ask the kids at the Teens Fitness class if they think my new helmet is cool. They nod obediently. Practicing my new sk8r lingo, I tell the kids that I am fully aware that I'm a "newb" (short for newbie - someone new at something). One kid tells me that I'm an "ultimate Noob" with double oo's. That can't be good. Confidence takes a dive.
5:25: Accompanied by my lawyer/videographer, Allicia, I enter 10 foot touque and am immediately greeted by my coach Randy and his sidekick "Bass." Bass was a newb just over a year ago. Reportedly, he has become quite proficient at the sport. I tell the group that I am excited. Randy informs me that I am "stoked." Yes. I am stoked.

I take my lawyer with me everywhere I go



5:30: Randy and Bass check out my new lid (helmet). Apparently, regardless of skill, all longboarders wear helmets. And it is cool. 10 foot touque agrees to sponsor me. We seal the deal with a sticker for the "lid."

5:35: Randy hooks me up with a sweet 10 foot touque t-shirt and a beautiful purple bucsu longboard. These boards are created by two young women in Penticton. Confidence is high again. How lucky am I?

My new gear - I'm stoked

5:35: Record video for blog. Randy reports that "balance" and "committment" are essential skills for longboarders. I am relieved. These guys haven't seen my sick headstand balance. I also consider myself committed. Just that morning, I reluctantly stayed in that 20 minute line at Tim Horton's, despite the painfully slow service. What can I say? I was committed.
5:40: Randy informs me that we need to get going. I don't want to be "poser." A poser is one who simply walks around with the board in his hands. I'm informed that it's much better to be a newb (even a nOOb) than a poser. Let's go, no posers here!
5:45: Me, Randy, Bass, and my lawyer/videographer head down to the Rotary Trail on the riverbank. Randy tells us that is actually illegal to board on the sidewalks down to the trail. I consult my lawyer. She will pursue changing this law ASAP.
5:50: We're at the trail. We're ready to go. Randy shows me the parts of the board: the deck, the truck, the wheels. When the wheels touch the deck, that's called "wheel bite." That is bad.

No wheel bite here

5:55: I want to pop my board up like the boys. They look cool. They just stand, chat, and then use their toe to pop the board up, catching it in their hand, without missing a beat. I practice this for 20 minutes, banging my shin, abdomen, and nose. Finally, I get it. I am stoked.
5:57: I stand on the board. It is flexible! I go for my first ride. It's ugly. I lose my board, chasing it down the riverbank. It's tough to look cool when you're chasing a board down the riverbank. Randy informs me that he will not be fishing my board out of the river. Must be better.
6:00: Bass shows us his moves. His board is much longer than the one I'm riding. He's so awesome, he actually has a trick named after him."The Bassanova." He shows us. The board flies up in the air, twists and turns, and then he magically lands on it. Impressive.I secretly wonder what I will call my trick. Once I get good, I mean. I learn that his moves are "steezy" or "steeze." What a concept! As a Speech-Language Pathologist, I am totally impressed that longboarders have combined "style" and "ease" to create such a unique word. I fear that,currently, I am not "steezy." Bass informs me that when a boarder is wobbly, he is "sketch" or "chunk." Yep, I'm a sketchy chunk for sure.

My sketchy chunk

6:10: Randy encourages me to balance on my front foot and then eventually add the back foot. Once I get comfortable with that, I put both feet on the board. I feel like I'm carving hard down the path with steeze. Once I review the video, I am sadly aware that I am still chunk. But a happy chunk! I practice for the next 45 minutes. I'll get this.
6:55: I want to impress Randy and Bass. I show them my mad headstand skills. On the board. The board is on the grass, but nevermind. I thought it was mildly impressive. Until I review the pics and see that Bass is busy texting on his phone while I am showing off. Oh dear.

Watch this!

Bass: Get off your phone. Watch me!

7:10: Randy asks me if I'd like to "drop acid," I consult my lawyer. Affirmative. "Dropping acid" is a term for throwing the board down and jumping on it. Dropping acid looks easy. It's not. I fall. My first fall. I'm pretty sure my fall was steezy.

7:15: Randy and Bass show me "The game of Long." It's like "DONKEY." The first player demonstrates a trick and the next has to mimic it. If you mess up the trick or "sketch out," you get a "D." First one to spell "DONKEY" loses. I'm much more impressed with how they decide who will start the game. They've modified "paper, rock, scissors" into "headbanger, hippie, surfer." This is awesome. I'm so happy. I mean, I'm so stoked.
7:30: My lawyer gives my board a try. I quickly shoo her off. I don't really like sharing (remember, I was an only child). Plus, I can see that she's quickly getting better than me. Can't have that.
7:35: We're done for the night. Randy offers words of encouragement and informs me that we've just "shredded the gnar." When I ask for clarification, he replies, "You know, we were shreddin' the gnar." Totally. I love it!
7:40: On the walk back to 10 foot touque, we run into "Toby," a very drunk, angry man demanding "a shot of whiskey," I have no trouble telling Toby that he is chunk. No steeze there.
7:45: I feel happy, stoked, and totally chill as I say goodbye to the team. I feel "loose." Perhaps I can toss the Ativan?
7:50: I'm pretty sure that at least a dozen new highways are now being constructed in my brain. Early stages of construction, but it's happening. I think of Ryan. He would be so stoked about my first longboarding lesson...and the fact that I'm now using the word, "stoked." I can't wait to practice all week.

L8r Sk8r!
the videos below show my very first ride and Bass' steezy moves. Technology requires that you wait for it....