Barefooting, I Mean, Butt Riding

I spent most of the July 4th weekend on my butt instead of my feet.  It was frustrating challenging.

Andy, my nephew, brought his boat up Saturday so I decided to try some deep water starts behind his boat.  Andy had never pulled before so I knew I was gambling with inexperience, but I figured he would get the hang of it quickly.  During the first start, he went s.l.o.w.  I kept hanging on, thinking he would pick up the speed.  He kept it going, figuring he’d up the speed when I sat up.

I finally let go.

Round two was better, I sat up and moved over the wake and Andy picked up speed.  I had Judy Myer’s, Keith St. Onge’s and Joann O’Conner’s advice running through my head as I placed my feet on the water.

Three point!

Heels toward your butt!

Feet on the water like you’re dropping an egg!

This is how I spent the rest of the evening:

On one start, it was the perfect storm.  I sat up and hit the stern roller just as Andy added more speed.  I popped up and lost the handle.  It snapped into my foot.  Can you say, “Ouch?”

I took a break and pulled Andy water skiing back to shore and I decided that it was time to hit the kneeboard so that I could actually get some footin in:

Being the stubborn gal I am, I decided to try the deep start a couple more times while the sun was setting.  Bad move.  As soon as I put my feet on the water and attempted to stand up, I felt my hamstring go “Pop!” and then:

The next day, my old footin buddy, Marty and his sister Michele picked me up.  Marty purchased a new, 100-foot Barefoot International rope and I decided to take Joann’s advice to stay behind the boat and plant my feet there.  After another gazillion tries, I knew I had to embrace the kneeboard again if I was going to see any barefooting time.

After that run, I gave Michele the kneeboard and said, “I gotta try one more time with the deep start to see if I can end this on a successful run.”

Let’s just say that if there was a butt-riding contest– I’d win.