I throw on my swimsuit, quickly rustling through the mess of clothes on my bedroom floor. “I’m late! Where is my lifejacket?” I shout down the hallway towards my mom.

“On the hooks in the front hall!” She hollers back at me. “You better have sunscreen, Elaine Christine!” 

Running out the door, I snag my lime green sunglasses from the cluttered dresser in our entryway, and my vibrant blue lifejacket off its hook. I toss a towel over my shoulder and hop onto my bike. The wind tousles my hair as I soar down the hill, refusing to brake, just to test my speed. As I reach my neighbor’s house, I throw my bike aside, barely avoiding getting wrapped in the chain. I sprint down the muddy grass hill, clobbering onto the pier where a rusty whaler awaits my arrival to buzz me across the lake to the island. Today is the first day of sailing school. 

As the boat slows down on approach to the island, I leap the 5-foot-gap, rope in hand, to tie a series of knots around the post of the pier. Still rushing, I jog up the desolate, wooden stairs, to the main portion of the island and greet my classmates. My instructors, Alex and Greta, begin overviewing the day, demonstrating various drills on a rickety whiteboard with some sail-boat-shaped magnets. I absolutely abhor the “figure eight” drill, which, of course, is on the agenda today. Oh joy, I think to myself. 

As their demonstration concludes, the class relocates to the pier and begins rapidly setting up our Optis (little bathtub-size sailboats made for children). My boat is one of the first ones out; I have mastered the quick setup, while the more novice sailors still struggle at the task. As I begin sailing upwind, I glance at the flag—its fabric is whipping wildly in the wind. Today is a windy day, but we continue on our drills as planned. Bright orange buoys line the designated “figure eight” path as horizontal from each other. The first buoy is directly upwind from me, and the other directly downwind. So, to complete the drill, I must sail upwind first, before tacking around and continuing to the downwind buoy. Seems easy enough. 

After a couple of laps around the two buoys, coaches continue to round the entire course, checking on each sailor, especially in these heavy-wind conditions. Everything seems to be working as the paradigm demonstrated. But, on my downwind leg, the boat’s nose begins dipping into the lake, splashing immense amounts of water into the boat and creating a pool around me. I manage to reach the buoy, and begin to perform a “jibe” (a downward tack where the sail flies over your head at a fast speed). But, as the sail whips to the other side, my lifejacket gets caught in the hooks on the boom (bottom of the sail), and it smacks me in the head. The boat begins steering itself in circles as the sail flails in the wind. I have lost complete control of the boat. 

My coaches speed over in their inflatable boat and grab onto the side of my Opti, checking to make sure I am okay. Although I can feel my head throbbing from a recent attack of the sail, I manage to compose myself and rearrange the contents of my boat.

“Can we just go in? I am too scared to get back out there,” I beguile the coaches by begging incessantly to make today a “fun day” instead of sailing. Finally, they agree to let us go in. Thank god, I think to myself, I guess all it took was getting smacked in the head to cancel class!