1) Drew
2) Alligators
3) My training
3) A1A
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| hoping awesomeness is contagious |
Drew is a super cool, chill, regular (yet spectacularly talented) guy. There was no paparrazi following him. He did not have a bodyguard or a bevy of bikini-clad super fans following him around. He was easy-going, friendly, interested, and extremely patient with us (seriously, how many times can this guy watch me attempt a 360, making the same errors 50 times in a row and remain positive and calm?)
The highlight was watching Drew ride. It's cool to watch someone excel at their sport, but it's truly amazing to watch a world class athlete. Drew grew up riding skateboards (with an initial goal of becoming a pro skateboarder) and then moved on to join the pro wakeskating tour. In 2003, he was invited to the world wakesurfing championship to try out this new sport. he had never wakesurfed before, but managed to place in that competition (no big deal). The rest is history. Now that he's the 6 time world champion, responsibility lies heavily on him to progress the sport with new tricks and maneuvers.
His riding was effortless, smooth, and confident. In contrast to our rides, which included a lot of concentration, angry self-talk ("c'mon, Kirst!"), and wipeouts, Drew smiled and rode with ease. He could do no wrong. If a trick wasn't working out the way it was supposed to, he simply altered it and turned it into something else. It was really inspiring to watch. I immediately jumped on his Phase Five Drew Danielo Diamond (how cool would it be to have a board created by you with your name on it???) and attempted to reproduce his ride (secretly hoping that his board wouldn't know it was me and magically perform), alas, he truly has raw talent and unbelievable awareness of his board - I'm not there...yet. Drew's board knew I was an imposter and immediately kicked me off. Damn you board!
We really enjoyed our time learning from, getting to know, and just hanging out with such a great guy. Centurion Boats and Phase Five boards should be extremely proud to have Drew as their ambassador. Thank you, Drew for an extremely valuable 2 days! We really hope to improve over the summer and come back again next year to awe you with our progress (or continue to attempt 78 unsuccessful 360's haha).
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| How many times is this chick going to fail at the 360? |
So you all know that I suddenly became fearful of wakesurfing with gators prior to our trip down south. Although Drew reassured me that I would not become gator meat, he did admit that he had spotted the odd gator in his lake from time to time. Drew's lake is a man-made 16 foot deep lake near Venice, Florida. A short channel connects it to a smaller, shallower lake. When I asked Drew if he ever hung out in shallow lake, he admitted that there had been quite a few gator sightings in that lake. Um...ok, so what's actually preventing the gators from swimming down the channel to our lake? Drew assured me that he and the gators had an understanding: big lake was Drew's, little lake was gators. "Kinda like the understanding you had with the sharks when you dove with them," he said. First thought: OMG, Drew's reading my blog. Second thought: Ok, that makes total sense.
To be honest, during the first day of lessons, I was so focused on the surfing that I didn't really think about the gators. That night, I had time to process the location and, naturally, worry about what was actually residing in that lake. By day 2, there was no doubt in my mind that alligators were swimming beneath me. I relied on Drew's extensive gator knowledge that gators surface before they attack and as I waited for the boat to pick me up each and every time that I wiped out (approximately 157 times), I frantically scanned the surface for gator eyes, and strategically placed my feet on the board so as not to dangle my "beef jerky" legs for the gators to munch on. I did envision the gator taking a chunk out of my ass (which was now dangling beneath the board), but I figured that the arse would be easier to surgically reconstruct if chewed on by gator teeth. It's all about compromise.
At one point early in my lessons, I wiped out, slamming the side of my face into the water so hard that my newly acquired diamond nose ring (can you say midlife crisis?) was sucked out of my nose. As the empty hole in my nose bled into the water, further attracting the gators, I imagined a lucky alligator finding my diamond stud, placing it in his huge nostril and dancing along the shoreline laughing, "Look at me, I'm a tourist! I'm a tourist!" Damn alligators. All-in-all, the gators did not ruin my experience. They just made it more exciting...and dangerous. I laugh in the face of danger. haha.
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| I just need to rest...for 5 days |
So...did the training make me awesome? No. Did the training prevent me from melting into a puddle of mush after the first hour of riding? Most definitely. My secret internal goal of my experience was to ride out a 360. Unfortunately, it did not happen. Close, but no dice. But, not for lack of trying. I could write a book on how to ride out a 360 with all the tips that Drew provided; however, easier said than done. I have never rode that much consecutively in my life. Typically, I might ride for half an hour twice a day. We were riding for 4 hours each day. It was exhausting. When day 2 was complete, I passed out on Venice beach, mouth open, drool dripping from the corners of my lips. Although I did not miraculously perform 360's, shuv-its, and front side air (as I had accomplished mentally so many times in my shower), I had the stamina to keep going, get myself back up after each and every wipe, and file away hundreds of solid tips to improve my ride. I feel like I have specific goals for this upcoming summer. I'm excited. I now know what I need to do. I fear what I would have looked and felt like if I hadn't trained this month. Yikes.
Check out a video montage of our experience...
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| could have been epic. |
On our way back up the east coast, I convinced Ev to drive through Miami. Easy, right? Um..worst idea ever. It was Saturday evening and Miami was insane! I had envisioned a "Glee-like" scene in which Ev and I would be driving down the A1A, ragtop down so our hair could blow. I would turn and wittingly say to Ev, "This block is dead yo" to which he would reply, "So let's continue down the A1A..." (then, in unison) "Beachfront Avenue!" We would then break out in our rendition of "Ice Ice Baby." Wouldn't that have been cool? By the time we actually made it to the A1A (2 hours of driving through Miami), Ev was cranky and my visions of rockin' out to Vanilla Ice were depleting rapidly with our moods. Finally reaching the A1A, crawling at a top speed of 5 miles/hour in our red Ford Fiesta (um...not cool in Miami beach), it was apparent that we did NOT belong. It was seriously like a rap video. I've never been in a rap video and I'm quite certain that I would never be selected to appear in one. I have never seen so many "grills," pimped out chargers, and lovely latino ladies in cut-out "dresses." (can you say strategically placed tea towel?) Insane.
Check out my attempt to lure Ev into my Vanilla Ice scene:
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