Today minus 9 years, on November 22, 2015, my beautiful bride, and I interrupted our afternoon schedules, whatever they were, whatever they were *supposed* to be, and headed down to Rosslyn’s boathouse. At 1:17 PM we pulled waterproof dry suits over our long underwear and fleece. We zipped up neoprene booties and Velcroed on neoprene beanies. We gathered gloves, lifejackets, harnesses, sails, and headed out to the beach for a wintery windsurf.
Not winter, per se. That was still a month out. (Though I’ll admit we’ve windsurfed in December and January too.) But if you’ve spent any time at all in the northeast, you’re familiar with those late autumn days when the air is damp, the temperature is cooold, and the wind picks up. Wintery!
And that, of course, begs the question why. Why would a wintry windsurf entice us? Why in the world would two intelligent adults bundle up on a blustery day in late November to sailboard Lake Champlain. Too cold for biking, and no snow for skiing. Lake might be freeze soon and we’d have to wait a couple months before we could go boating again. To see if we could!
Late autumn, winter, and early spring outings on the water are enticing in part simply because boating is out of season. We have the lake to ourselves. And, to be candid, there’s just a little extra excitement fueled by the slightly riskier circumstances. The challenge. How long can we endure before freezing our neoprened butts off?!
But that’s not the whole equation. A wintery windsurf, especially when instigated by my bride, is affirming in a less obvious way. After the death of her father, Susan endured a trying time when her characteristic confidence and hunger for adventure faltered. Unbeknownst to us for quite some time, she was concurrently in the throes of Lyme disease (and multiple co-infections). Her intrepid temperament faltered. She became anxious and wary, pulled back from risky endeavors whether the risks were real or perceived.
She struggled.
We struggled.
Windsurfing at all, even in the heat and relative safety of summer, provoked too much worry to feel inviting. And if I wanted to head out for a windsurf, she insisted on joining me because it made her even more anxious to think of me being out of sight. 
I’ve described this period before, and I will revisit it again. It’s actually an important part in our early years at Rosslyn. And it’s a part that Susan moved through with determination, a chapter of our story that informs decision making even today. And one of those choices is to seize the opportunity for a wintry windsurf if it presents! When Susan interrupts me to say that the conditions are perfect for windsurfing – even if it’s on the 22nd of November – I’m all in. Let’s go!
What do you think?