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Capsized by co-ordination
Friday August 8 2008
By Tracey Duguay, Random Passages
 
Well, I’ve always suspected it but now I have proof.  I am the most unco-ordinated person in the world, or at least it felt that way on Monday night.
My suspicions about this lack of physical dexterity started in the 80s during the aerobics craze. Music blaring, the instructor calling out to the beat “now take two steps to your right, bend your left leg back, two steps left, right leg back…”
I usually ended up crashing into the people on both sides of me, wishing the floor would open up and swallow me whole. It was made worse by the fact  the instructor would invariably end up next to me so she could devote more time to the “special student.”
My latest exercise in futility came on my first night of a six-week “learn to row” program offered by the Island Lake Rowing Club. I always wanted to try rowing, and being new to the community, figured it would be good way of meeting new people too.
The first night, I was told, is usually spent in the boathouse, learning the lingo and getting familiarized with the equipment. Given the downpour on Monday, I thought I’d be safe wearing jeans, a T-shirt and running shoes.
On top of my lack of co-ordination, I’m also not very smart about dressing appropriately, especially for new experiences. So, of course, the minute we arrived, the weather cleared and the instructors decided we should take a boat down to the dock since it was easier to show than tell. We didn’t actually head out on to the water; the instructors held on to the boat from the dock.
Bouncing around while trying to take off my running shoes standing up on a wobbly dock was the first sign it wasn’t going to be an easy experience. My dreaded lack of co-ordination doesn’t even allow me to do that with any grace. Managing to get in the boat without pitching myself into the lake was a small accomplishment. Then came the rowing and oar techniques.
I’m not even going to try to explain what you have to do because I’d probably embarrass the sport of rowing, but needless to say, there are a series of steps you have to execute with your body while trying to remember the right order in your mind. Need I say more?
As I concentrated on doing that one aspect right, I botched another one, over and over again. With great patience, the instructor worked with me until I was at least only making one mistake per execution.
The two other “students” breezed through it, one being called a “natural” and the other the “star student.” It wasn’t done in a mean way, and despite my being a total idiot savant (minus the savant) in the co-ordination department, I even got a few praises.
Laughing at my own ineptness, my instructor couldn’t help but join in when I warned her she definitely would have earned her money by the time my lessons were over.
Unlike the aerobics classes of yesteryears, I didn’t slink out  with no thoughts of returning. I look forward to my next lesson, dressed more appropriately and with my sense of humour firmly in place.

Tracey Duguay is managing editor of The Orangeville Banner. She can be reached at tduguay@orangevillebanner.com.