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VISUALIZE CHOOSING TO start tennis, only to discover that moving from the pro shop to the initial marker—not gripping a club, never pitching or rolling or hitting out from a hazard, only moving—requires more muscle power than you have mustered in your complete mature existence.

It’s wave riding. I will afterward learn that what makes propelling a board so exhausting is not just the amount of strength demanded, but the reality that the necessary muscles are pressed into service by wave riders and essentially few others. Take the levator scapulae. They link the upper spine to the deltoids; were they to weaken, you will notice. But these are supposed to be the stage managers of the anatomical system, instead of the leads. Pulling a hand and lower arm through the ocean while lying on a surfboard is a handful of movements that propel them into the limelight.

I rapidly realized, during my introductory surf lesson, was that my upper back were ill-equipped for the challenge. Neither were my neck flexors (that join my thoracic area and vertebrae) or erector spinae (extending vertically down my back). I took several movements toward the coach, and then fell into the water.

“Well,” she responded cautiously, once I made it over. “Let’s . . . endeavor to ride a swell?” Even though I engaged in athletics in high school, and working as a presidential writer batted leadoff on the softball team—which was Sports Squad of the U.S.—I never expected I would find myself on a wave craft. I once strained my lower body lifting a package of cat litter; wave riding required degrees of both coordination and madness that I didn’t have.

Additionally, my age was 35 years old, that is, in wave culture, old. But following the most difficult year of my existence, a span characterized by after COVID sloth and melancholy, taking surf lessons appeared as a way to break free from my decline. Additionally, it was a moment to prove to myself that I still was even strong, hardy, equipped of recovering at a time when the universe appeared keener than before to pummel me.

What I hadn’t factored in was actually catching waves. Katie gripped the underside of my beginner surfboard and directed me toward the shore. For a minute, she maintained grip of the craft and made small talk. Then, all at once, she snapped to attention. I looked over my shoulder, following her vision. A swelling mound of ocean had materialized behind us.

“Row row row!” she yelled. I pushed.

“Pop up rise rise!” she yelled. I leapt to my stance, swung my upper body as if losing balance on slick surface, and toppled into the sea.

How come rising to my feet on the beach had felt simple, I now understood, is that it was easy. A young child can get upright on ground. On the ocean the most fractional misstep—a hand positioned an inch too far front; limbs stretched a moment late; one foot planted somewhat off balance—sent me flying. On good attempts, I dropped into the sea. If I was unlucky, I bounced off my board onto my lower back (or sometimes), to mix it up, my joint and subsequently my tailbone), and kerplunked into the sea.

“Quick question,” I posed. “Am I particularly unskilled at this?”

Katie thought for a while.

“Well,” she finally said. “Each person is varied.”

That was exactly as I suspected: I wasn’t strong enough for this. I stopped aspired to realize I might be a undiscovered surfing prodigy, or to catch a wave. All I wanted was to quit and go home. Once only fifteen minutes to go in the class, I commenced procrastinating for the end.

“So,” I said, “you mentioned you owned a kitten. Could you share her moniker?”

“Woochee,” my instructor said. An ocean roller passed calmly alongside.

“What color is her fur?”

“Ebony.”

“And what type of designation is ‘Woochee’?”

“It derives from a Mandarin expression, really. It represents ‘emptiness.’” A second roller passed below.

“How old is the kitten? Was she rescued from a rescue center or a adoption agency? Is that your first cat?”

Our lesson would quickly be completed, and with termination approaching, I kept the queries flowing. “How much time was required you to learn to pop up?” (A few tries. That felt impossible.) “Family member rides waves in cold months. He is crazy, correct?” ({She didn