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.