Kayaking

One super hot day in Destin, we went and claimed one of our well deserved hour-long kayak rentals. I’ve wanted to try it, but was unsure I’d be able to hang, much less an hour. Some cute little skinny young surf girl set us all up while I confessed my worries of it being too much. She smiled politely and said that if she was a betting girl, she’d give me about 15 minutes before I was ready to come in. Malibu Barbie had unwittingly laid down a dare, and she’s never met me. I once tread water for 45 minutes when I was 13 years old because my brother told me I couldn’t make it a half-hour. I would have gone on another hour if he hadn’t admitted he was wrong. Telling me I can’t do something only means that I will, and I may or may not rub it in your face when I’m done. Scott explained that I didn’t have to paddle my ass off, I could just leisurely paddle and get great results. Uh, no. If I was paddling, and granted I did NOT paddle the entire hour, but if I was paddling, I meant business. I had a great kayak partner.  He steered and paddled, and I only had to boss him around a couple times. Scott’s partner was a big help, too. Usually he’s just kayak eye-candy, but this time he had a paddle. I don’t know how much help he was, but I do know he used that paddle occasionally.

We kayaked all over. We went under the bridge and came back to the beach at Jolie Island. Then we paddled out into the middle and Christian jumped in to cool off. Finally we headed back. We pulled back onto the beach exactly an hour after we left. It took everything I had not to rush over to Malibu Barbie and spike my oar on the sand in front of her while hollering, “Now bitch!” Don’t worry, I controlled myself. I will concede on one point. This was the only night that I went to bed before 10, and got my best night’s sleep of the entire trip. Kayaking is hard, but I want to go again!