Sailing made me think of a relaxing day on the water. A day that would not require any bruises, cuts, or the arousal of my impatient temperament. Once again, outdoor pursuits has proven my oh so omnipotent notions wrong. Sailing is exhausting. Those fun boats might look cute and adorable but spend a day in one and tell me how your abdominals feel from leaning to keep the boat balanced.
After hitting a few no go zones—meaning your boat is facing directly into the wind and therefore cannot catch any wind and will not move—I felt a bit frustrated. Eventually my partner and I harnessed the wind in our sail and sped off down the Menai Straits. You hear people make cliché comments about sailing all the time, but you never understand the truth of those words until you are in that moment. Feeling the speed beneath you, knowing that if you did not lean just the right way you could very well capsize your boat and end up in that chilly water, it moves something in you. Suddenly everything else fades away, that paper you have been dreading, the weeks of traveling you have been dreaming about; you are not simply in that moment, rather that moment becomes a part of you.
When we were transferred into the group sailboat, that boat literally rocked. Our instructor told me to sit with my bum off the side of the boat and lean back in order to keep the boat balanced. I looked at him like he had just told me to eat my own hand. I have heard of people doing all sorts of things to keep themselves calm—apparently I laugh. I spent the entire time laughing, not a nervous laugh but a genuine one. Come to think of it, I laughed when I sprained my wrist mountain biking. It is a bit of a twisted coping mechanism, but it works.