They're fast and they look like they're going to tip but they lean way back and they don't.

I spent yesterday with Sherry and watched her coach her kids. She teaches them to go fast in little tiny sailboats and man, I don’t know any piece of that world. It’s a good world, though, with lots and lots of jargon. She’s all confident too. She does things like steer our boat with her knees or her hips while watching the telltales and telling her kids things like “more vang”. She doesn’t notice that is an impressive thing to do. She knows things, like how the wind moves between the sails on your own boat and how you can create still spots that will stall out a boat from another team. She can feel the difference in turbulence through the bottom of the boat when you switch from point to speed mode. She also thinks it is normal and comfortable to do things like stand with a leg on two separate boats while talking to someone else about something, or throw a granola bar to students in their little boat, who can scoot around like waterbugs and be in place to catch it. That was neat to watch, although I can’t even imagine how it would feel*.

So in lots of ways it was completely foreign. But some of it was wholly familiar. Those loose-limbed kids, joking around, hungry all the time, beautiful in any old mismatched gear, hoping for a workout where their moves come easy and they use every last muscle. I’ve seen those kids before. I’ve seen big ol’ bruises before, and I took pictures of mine too. I know what it is like to walk out at the beginning of a day, knowing that it will be long, long hours of all-you-got, and that you chose to do it and you would choose it again. The listening to your coach and trying to fix that thing. The love for that space, your gym, your field, your boat. The cheating when you’re worked and you stop reaching all the way out or making the hard push and your hands get sloppy. The winddown, when you gather your crap and think about food and the whether you’re gonna get that technique and the way your thighs and belly feel empty, no spring at all, but you have no other worries, nothing to think about but what you’re gonna eat and when you have to be back in the morning. Those were are all the same.










*I also realized I can’t imagine what it would be like to do an equipment sport. TKD was just me, one other person and a lot of ritual. Ultimate was a huge stretch. Me and lots of other people to keep track of and one fairly simple moving object was baffling for about a year. I had no real field sense for a couple years, and even after several years I can tell that lots of people see plays developing faster. Adding in very complicated equipment? I’m impressed.