Tag Archives: smiles

Chasing Mavericks

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I wasn’t supposed to be there–at the Far Rockaways. I wasn’t supposed to be doing a hobby at all that day. If this were still just a “project” –and not what I now deem a lifestyle–I would have fulfilled my quote with shark diving at the beginning of the week. But that’s not the case. I had booked two hobbies for the week–and I couldn’t have been more excited. However, I wasn’t supposed to be double hobbying with surfing–I was supposed to be in Pennsylvania–jumping out of a plane.

Less than 24 hours before my scheduled skydive, I received a call that my trip was postponed due to low clouds. It only took me several moments to visit a surf school website in New York, text the owner, and sign up for a class. I didn’t need to replace skydiving–but I felt compelled to.

Sometimes when one cloud covers–another wave of opportunity will present itself–quite literally–and metaphorically here, of course.

I admit—while putting my wetsuit on (initially backwards), I questioned if this was a bad idea–if just signing up for a surf lesson without thinking was really something I should have done. For a couple minutes–I decided it wasn’t. And then for a couple more minutes–I still believed it wasn’t. I wasn’t sure I would even have the courage to walk into the water–but I didn’t have a choice. After a brief sand lesson, our instructor had us stepping into the frigid waters of the Atlantic with the boards in hand.

And not before long I was getting pummeled by waves.

I should preface this by saying that I am terrified of ocean water–I see going into it as an unfair heavyweight battle where the little guy is well below the size of the big guy–and the knockout comes quickly–almost instantly. When I was little, a life guard saved me from the under-toe on some family vacation which paralyzed any positive thoughts I could have about ocean water and what could happen if I went in. During a trip to Bermuda, my mind was changed briefly as the water’s beauty and delicacy seduced me. But upon returning to the East Coast waters, my fears began to loom again.

After the first wave knocked me down on Saturday, I regained my composure, briefly, and I declared the ocean the champion. And instead of raising an arm in victory–it knocked me out again.

I cleared the hair from my face, and said a myriad of things to myself, “Well this was not my best idea.” “I should probably leave the water now.” “I should be jumping out of a plane today–not getting my ass kicked by some personified piece of nature.” Yet, I continued walking out to my instructor who was positive that after a few minutes of learning to stand on the board–on the sand–I’d be able to make progress on the water.

“Hop on that board.”

“Now?!”

He laughed at me.

Silly me–he meant just get on and lay down–not HOP. And of course he meant now. I struggled to get on the board, but after a second try I was up.

“Okay, now sit.”

So like a trained pup, I sat.

“Good. Now lay on that board. Move back a few inches. What’s going to happen is I am going to tell you to paddle…then I’ll push the board forward, and yell “Up.” When I yell up, You stand.”

“Easy,” I said, thinking to myself that I was more likely bound to go face first into the sand at the ocean bottom.

“Paddle, Paddle, Paddle…..” commanded Joel.

I rushed to paddle. But I didn’t know how fast or how slow I should be paddling. What if I didn’t get enough speed? But before I had time to readjust any of this, Joel yelled, “Up,” and I attempted to push myself to my feet.

BAM

Knocked out.

I covered my head so that if the board went flying it wouldn’t truly knock me out. I stayed underwater a second more, and resurfaced  before another wave crashed into me, and another one–and another one. And then finally, I found my balance, and realized that throughout those continuous wipeouts–something had happened. I had lost my fear. I was still here. I was still breathing. And I had gotten back up on my own. Bonus point for overcoming fear.

Even still, the ocean was now ahead of me by a score of at least 6 Hits.

Ocean 6: Libs: 1

I had a major comeback to accomplish. I stayed resilient and walked back out to Joel. “How’d that feel?”

“Really freaking good!” I exclaimed. “Nothing to be scared of. I’m really happy I tried to stand.”

Joel smiled, and pushed me out again. And as my two feet landed on the board I slipped off backwards.

Bam.

Knocked out.

Back up.

And out to Joel again.

“I’m going to get this,” I said to him.

I was set on earning more points during this battle with the Atlantic.

And then, with a magnitude of paddling, a swift push from Joel, and a command of “up,” I felt myself make it to my feet. Suddenly, it was like the rest of the water, and the beach, and the sky had disappeared–and it was just me on this foam board, flying. What was only a few mississippi seconds–felt like a beautiful lifetime.

As I surfed closer to shallow waters, I splashed off the board and was congratulated with a nose and mouthful of salt  water. When I surfaced–I fist pumped into the air, and yelled “I did it.” Joel looked at me and smiled from a distance, though I’m not sure he actually heard me with the crashing white waters. But it didn’t matter. I didn’t do this for him–or for anyone else–I did this for myself.

End of day score?

Ocean: A lot  –  Libs: Smiles

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Special Thanks
New York Surf School
surflessonsnewyork101.com

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Bruises, Blood, & Smiles – Learning to Get Back Up: Skateboarding

 

Falling can be terrifying. It can be accelerating. It can be painful. It can lead to fear. It can lead to injury. And it can lead to pride.

On the evening that I headed out to Williamsburg to take a skateboarding lesson with my good friend Michael Bonner,a sense of pride overwhelmed me. As the skateboard began to slip out from underneath my feet, I felt my arms flare, and then my body hit the ground–hard. With little hesitation, I got back up, threw on a helmet, and hopped back on the board. Moments later, the board came out from underneath me again–and I went kaboom. Still–I got back up–and tried it again.

Life is all about taking the hits–getting a little bruised here and there, and then coming back–leaving the past behind and standing on two feet. I hate to be cliche–but if you fall off the horse–then get right back on it. And that’s exactly what I did–with bruises, blood–and smiles.

 

 

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Special Thanks
Michael Bonner
takebacksproductions.tumblr.com

Greg Payton
www.c3stories.com

The Hobby Hoarder Gets Surprised!

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One of the greatest parts of the hobby year thus far is meeting new people and finding others who have similar missions as myself. A month or so ago, I received an email from one of the co-founders of Surprise Industries, and I was super amped when she told me that Surprise Industries would like to offer me a free surprise hobby/activity. The email was already one brilliant surprise! As the weeks went by my excitement grew–and when I walked into the gym and discovered that Kangoo Hopping–Hip-Hop–Dance was our surprise activity, I bounced up and down–literally.

For months, I have tried to get into a Kangoo Nation class, but it’s so popular that I’ve often missed sign-ups, however, not this time–This time, I got to try Kangoo dancing–and it was just by surprise–just by luck of the draw–just by connecting with people who have a similar goal as mine: to get people to get out and do things–even if they don’t know exactly what they are getting into.

The class was small and intimate, but the energy was upbeat and fast. As we hit the second dance routine, I could feel my heart racing, the positive endorphins flowing through my body, and the sweat dripping. This was the best workout I’d had in a long time–and it’s one I definitely plan to return to. As we hopped around the room, I could feel the smile on my face growing larger and larger on my face, and as I turned to my friend, I watched as she smiled too. This is what hobbies–and surprises–and new things do–they inspire you–they break you out of slumps–and bring you back to LIFE.

I’ve been so fortunate to have the opportunity to try so much this year–to meet so many people–to experience LIFE with so many other people.

Because that’s all this hobby year is about–experiencing life–for everything it’s worth–not saying no–and jumping at each and every chance to try something new.  This life is too short not to let surprises happen–it’s too short not to try something new–even if you think you’ll look silly–and it’s definitely too short to be sitting online reading blogs all the time. So get outside and try something new…Who knows maybe Kangoo hopping is your new favorite hobby–it’s definitely one of mine.

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Surprise Industries
@Surprisology

Disclaimer: Normally, after a Surprise Industries event you DON’T talk about your SURPRISE–it’s kind of like Tyler Durden’s rules of Fight Club–YOU DON’T TALK ABOUT FIGHT CLUB…

YOU DON’T TALK ABOUT THE SURPRISE

But since Surprise Industries and I agreed on our common missions and why I would be telling people what my surprise was–GUESS WHAT–you know–but now that means you need to go SIGN UP for your own at http://www.surpriseindustries.com — Make sure you tell them you found them through the one and only Hobby Hoarder. ENJOY YOUR SURPRISE!!!!

 Kangoo Nation

The Hobby Hoarder Gets her Dance On: Hip-Hop

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What does it mean to be choreographically challenged?

I’d say it means walking out of a Zumba class twice–yes that did happen. I’ve been a bit choreographically challenged since I was born. My parents always brag about me saying my first word when I was only six months old–but I’ve found I rarely–if ever–have heard them brag about my first steps. I bet I crawled until I was six.

It’s not just choreography that I couldn’t ever keep up with–it’s all forms of movement.

During a game of Truth or Dare at an 8th grade birthday party, I was humiliated as I was dared to show my “dance moves” on a chair.

“You can’t just hump the chair.” All the girls laughed at me. At the next school dance, I shook it off, and attempted to show that I truly could dance. The result wasn’t so hot. My, now best friend, laughed and said “It’ll take some work.” “Just don’t hump. Work it like this.”

I had no idea what I was doing. The word “grinding” was what my teeth did in the middle of the night.

Horrified, it took me years to feel comfortable enough to even “dance like no one was watching again.” And it took this hobby project, and two failed Zumba attempts to get back on the “choreography wagon.”

So on Tuesday February, 21 I headed to Dance New Amsterdam for an introductory hip-hop class. And it’s safe to say I think I found my rhythm–thanks to instructor Jonathan Lee.

You watched the video–what do you think?

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Meet Jonathan Lee–My instructor
Dance New Amsterdam

Dance New Amsterdam
280 Broadway
Manhattan, New York

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