The Story of the Skateboard

Today I went out for a ride on my skateboard and Torrey asked, "How long have you had your board?"

It was a sunny day in Rio and I had signed up for a race called the Rei y Rainha do mar (The king and queen on the ocean). Even though I lived in Rio for five and a half years, I never got over my fear of swimming in open water. It's one that has settled into my entire being, and getting past it is work, work, work. Every Sunday in Rio, the main strip parallel to the beach is closed for runners, cyclists, skaters and so forth. I really wanted to be the girl who skirted up, put on some colorful running shoes and cruised down the strip with a playlist in tote. But like many things in my life, I also had the I'm not good enough to do that, I should't, I could't, I don't fit in ... bla, bla, bla that played out.

The race was from one end of the beach (In Leblon) to the end of Ipanema, and my heart was thumping, fast. BoOMp-BOOmp...BOOMP-BOOmp. In order to rid the mental chatter, I made a deal with myself. If didn't panic during the swim, I could reward myself with a skateboard. It was something I felt needed to be earned.

I didn't panic.

So, that Sunday afternoon, I set off to the local skate shops - but they were all closed. I finally found one that was open, and as I recall, they only had one board I was interested in. Go figure - the picture on the bottom - a tidal wave.

So I spent way too much money and bought it.

Now I have a skateboard. I'm no Kelly Slater but I managed an 8km trip today. I hopped off the board twice and luckily landed on my feet when balance got the best of me, but I sure do love sucking at a sport. So much room to grow.

There you have it ... you can teach an old dog new tricks.

Next time you are afraid to do something, do it anyway. And don't forget to pat yourself on the back - with a new toy.