Since I’ve been slacking and only posting pictures on the blog lately (which I hope you’ve enjoyed) I thought I’d write a bit. Grab a cup of coffee…it’s one of those posts. 🙂
Yesterday (Friday) was Day 6 in Maui. The boys went golfing – beautiful course overlooking the ocean, I’m sure Rob will be posting about that experience and maybe throw up a picture or two.
While the boys went golfing the girls had a really rough time of it – went to get a massage. It was beautiful. That is until my good friend Debbie Bresina set me up with “Helga”. This woman was bound and determined to get every knot that I had in every single muscle out within the hour she was working on me. She barked orders, taking control of my legs and arms and putting them in “yoga-like” positions I didn’t know existed! Who knew my little toe on my right foot could bend around my head and touch my left earlobe? Just kidding, of course, but that’s what I think she was trying to accomplish! She used her arms like rolling pins down my back, breathing with intensity that was definitely too audible. She kept saying, “Just relax, Carol Ann, just relax.” “I’m sure trying!” I meekly responded. “Carol Ann if you don’t relax you’ll hurt both of us.” What in the world? How does pinning me into fierce ancient Hawaiin wrestling/yoga moves hurt her? The more she asked me to relax, the more I thought about it and couldn’t. I kept telling myself, “Self, this is good for you! Just breath, pretend you’re in labor!” Are massages supposed to be like this? The ones I’ve had previously never were. (Actually when it was all said and done, I did feel better.)
Then, since this is certainly a good remedy for post massage treatment, and, since the guys were still conquering the golf course, we headed to Big Beach. What a gorgeous place. Blue, blue water, long sandy beach, almost perfect until we saw some European women apparantly enjoying it a little too much – they were enjoying the breeze on their, ahem shall we say torsos without the much needed bathing suit tops. Ew! We found a spot on a sandy slope to hang out (not like those women, however, just to clarify! Ha!). What should have happened is that we should have just rested – remember I’d just been worked over by Helga! Instead the waves were calling my name. Now, here’s the thing, every book you read reminds you to observe the ocean patterns before getting into the water. Oooops. Yeah, I didn’t do that. I dragged Debbie Stier into the water with me. We’re happily trying to body surf the waves when we realized, these were not your grandmother’s waves! They were huge and fierce, at least to us! (The little children playing in the waves had no problem.) We rode a couple when looking in horror over our shoulder there was this ginormous wave coming upon us! “Swim, Debbie, swi….” is all I got out of my mouth when the wave spanked me, threw me into the fetal position, whooshed me into a tumbling summersault roll, and then corkscrewed my head into the sand. I stood up with my bathing suit facing backwards – just kidding – but seriously disoriented. Tender-hearted Debbie just laughed her head off. Well, fine, I thought, if she can be that tough so can I. I looked back at the next wave with determination and managed to overcome it’s threatening tendencies. Looking around for Ms. Compassionate I couldn’t find her – until…the wave spit her out of the water with the force of a volcano erupting. She staggered to her feet, and I wish I could have captured her face on camera, the look of sheer terror was priceless. Who’s laughing now? 🙂 Sadly, Debbie’s sunglasses became a victim of this adventure – some shark is probably looking cool with shades on.
It’s the next day and I’m still laughing over this adventure, as I am sure everyone else who was on the beach is who was entertained by two Colorado girls trying to master the ocean.