Also, fishing was terrible. I went fishing three times, none from a boat, and dipnetting once. I caught nothing those three times, and then only caught two with my net. Oh well. Fortunately I was able to keep busy with working 4 tens for the borough (Monday through Thursday. Great schedule.). Thursday night the sun started to peak out and of course I couldnt' help but get my longboard out. I used it twice this summer. It was neglected along with fishing. A game of ultimate frisbee was being formed and I used my long board as my chosen mode of transportation to get there. Proving to be a true Alaskan, I wore shorts and a t-shirt simply because the sun was thinking about showing itself. It was 54 degrees. By the time I arrived at the fields, I had warmed up to a survivable state. We played a few games of frisbee and I decided to leave early because I knew I had to board back home. There was a headwind. The temperature had lowered and I was miserable. I just wanted to sleep. A truck full of hooting men honking the horn drove by and I ignored their obscenities; however, as usual, trying to ignore them never works. My foot snagged under my back wheel and I tumbled. Awesome. I composed myself and returned to boarding against the terrible headwind. Trying to ignore honking vehicles and complete embarrassment gives one a lot of time to think. I mainly thought, "Why the heck do I long board?" Long boarding is humiliating. To go out and board in public takes guts for a socially awkward girl.
1. You have to be okay with looking like a complete idiot.
2. You have to come to terms with the fact that you WILL look like a complete idiot. It's just impossible to avoid the occasional (in my case, frequent) fall.
3. Whether or not you're okay with looking like an idiot doesn't matter. You got on that board. That's how you're getting home.
I decided that the reason I return to the board isn't merely making use of a financial investment, but it helps me feel a sense of accomplishment. IT may have been humiliating and miserable, but I survive each time. Another example of this masochism: this last month my little sister and I attempted the Lost Lake trail. 15.75 mile hike (run, walk, whatever mode you choose). It was slightly raining at the bottom, and we thought that running shorts and long sleeve shirts were appropriate attire. We packed our coats in my backpack and headed off. To even explain what happened would take too many tears and too much time, so, in summary, 5 hours later we arrived at the end of the trail. Our fingers were so frozen we couldn't unzip our coats, untie our shoes, or take off our wet clothes. The sight of other mankind made us cry. We couldn't believe we survived. The thing that makes this story at all relative to the above story is that I would do that hike again. The feeling of surviving self torture is so satisfying, it makes it hard not to return to.
A short list of thing with the same principle applied:
-Going in public without makeup and shower. People think you're butt-ugly. You do it anyways.
-Eating bad foods. You'll feel like crap after. You do it anyways.
-Watching sappy movies that you know will make you depressed. But you watch them anyways.
Posting terrible pictures of yourself. :)Anyways. Those were my thoughts for the day. Cheers.
-Donica
