When I was a kid, I was only interested in hobbies I was good at. I guess most people have more fun doing things they are good at than otherwise, but I was actually afraid of things I was bad at. I have since discovered that this is a typical Pennsylvania Dutch trait that somehow wormed its way into my childhood psyche although I had not a drop of German blood in my veins.

I was afraid of new experiences, afraid of looking foolish, afraid of not being good at something. In team sports, I was afraid of the ball coming my way. When I skied, I was afraid of not being able to buckle my boots and terrified of going too fast. In math, I was afraid of not getting the concepts immediately. So I avoided team sports, skiing, and math. Problem solved.

In high school, though, I sort of accidentally learned how to run a mile in gym class, slow but without stopping, and in a fit of optimism totally unsuited to my character, I signed up for the cross country team. I was terrified. I was afraid of being out of breath, afraid of getting too tired, afraid of being last. I was an untalented runner and I was breathless, tired, and last pretty often. But this was one sport I didn’t quit. (Must have been the endorphins. ) Instead, I discovered the joy of sucking. No one expected me to be good, so I could do it just for fun, and I was free to compete against my own fears instead of other people. This was exhilarating, because competing against myself, I sometimes won.

As time wore on I decided to try some other things I was likely to suck at, just for fun. I started talking to strangers, playing tennis, taking photographs. I learned how to play guitar, took a course in statistics, changed careers. Success was elusive, but almost everything I’ve tried has been fun. I am now officially 75% less Pennsylvania Dutch.

Recently, I’ve been intrigued by surfing, despite the fact that it’s a sport at which I’m very likely to suck. I am afraid of the undertow. I am afraid of being hit on the head by a surfboard. I don’t relish the prospect of being dumped in the sand by a strong wave. I am not a strong swimmer. I’m not crazy about cold water. I have inner-ear issues that affect my balance and lousy vision that affects my depth perception. I am afraid of losing a contact lens in the water. I don’t have the upper body strength to “pop up” from a prone position to Warrior II even on a stationary yoga mat, let alone a moving surfboard. Hell, I don’t have the upper-body strength to don a wetsuit. I am afraid of looking stupid. Also, I’m afraid of fish brushing up against me in the water.

So last weekend, I took a surf lesson.

Some of my fears were realized. I had to ask for help with the wetsuit. I was hit on the head by my board, twice. I was dumped in the sand, repeatedly. I could not “pop up” to save my life. (I did manage to kneel several times and once even planted one goofy foot on the board. Turns out that even though I’m right-handed, I’m left-footed). I looked very, very stupid.

I also had a ridiculous amount of fun. I can’t wait to do it again. Don’t get me wrong; I haven’t totally overcome my fears. In fact, now that I know what to expect, I have a few more to add to my list. Like, I didn’t know that if you don’t paddle hard enough in advance of the wave, your board will go nose-under and the wave will go up your nose. And who knew you had to worry about other surfers running into you? But I can’t wait to scare myself stupid again.