We met with some rough waves on our trip to the beach this year. Even when trying different spots along the beach, the high winds meant choppy waters that threatened to shred you up. I had to boogie board, especially since previous years have sometimes been too calm to make that activity very rewarding. At one location, close to the point where the ocean meets the inter-coastal waterway, the waves were ripe for getting on top of and riding the crest until it dropped you in a rush to get to the shore. I managed to catch a few sweet rides in before a menacing wave forced my board into a vertical position and then threw me down into the surf. I was forced through a somersault, after which my back hit the shell-coated shoreline.
Getting up quickly, I rubbed down my wounds and walked back into the waves, wanting to redeem myself after such a heinous slam. My sons were watching from the tent I had set up on the beach. They didn’t spend much time in the water. My youngest took a pretty hard hit and decided that was it for him. My oldest just thought the waves were too rough to begin with and opted out early on.
When I waded back into the surf, I kept thinking about my days skateboarding when I was the ages my sons are now. After failing to make a trick, unless you were really hurt, the expectation was that you would get up and try again. The activity built resilience as, most often, when you were learning, you would fail more than you would succeed. That was understood as part of the process.
At first, when I realized my sons weren’t interested in skateboarding, I wasn’t too concerned. It’s a tough sport, and I honestly wasn’t thrilled about the prospect of injuries that comes with it. Now, though, I wonder if it would have been beneficial for them.
