What happened to my surf gene?
My Dad surfs. My uncle Charles surfs. My uncle Henry is a famous surfboard shaper. Heck, my parents met on a beach.
You would THINK I would be a natural, right?
Um, not so much.
And I’ve got the bumps and bruises to prove it, including a tennis ball sized goose egg behind my ear from when another surfer’s board slammed me in the noggin. Ouch!
I tried and tried and tried to get up. After seeing everyone else in the class streaming into the break, I was getting very frustrated, which I’m sure didn’t help. I switched my lead foot. I tried starting off with one leg up. I tried it all. The only thing I got was some extra attention from the instructor. Which wasn’t all bad. 
After TWO HOURS, and much embarrassing encouragement from the WHOLE class, I finally managed to stand on the board, only to fall into the ocean seconds later.
My frustration soon faded as I reminded myself, “I’m in friggin’ Australia, in the Indian Ocean, attempting to surf.” This ain’t Galveston.