Signing Off

   Saying goodbye is a funny thing.  There never seems to be a good time to do it.  If things are going well but you know you need to leave, you won't want to, because you'll want to continue with the party; but if things are going poorly, you will think you should have left a long time ago.  It's a double edged sword and I hate to be carrying it.

   I've shared a lot of stories with you readers here.  You were there when a friend of mine was killed, when I had to say goodbye to a boyfriend, when I said hello to a new boyfriend, when I traveled, when I fought off alligators, and said hello to chipmunks.  I rang in two New Years on this blog and a few Easters.  You all know what my favorite shoe is and the person I kayak with the most; you know how hard it is for me to get up in the morning and why I do what I do.  You know my struggles, my fears, and my loves.  You know my friends have some of the weirdest last names and you know how important family is to me.  You know where my cousin sleeps when he comes over to my house and what my version of a Go-Pro is called. You know a lot.  However, there are a lot of memories that never made it to the blog.  You'll never know about the time when six of us sat out on the water, crooning to Sam Smith; or the time a beach disappeared and Logan and I had a picnic on a patch of grass; or the first time I went and I got lost; or the time we got called out by the border patrol; some things are just for me, and I am sorry those stories will never be shared.  

   When I suggested to my mom that I quit the blog, she said, "Jillianne, you never finish anything.  Everything you do is always so short-lived."  That may be true.  But right now, in my life, I'm in between a lot of things.  I'm not the same person I was when I started this blog, and that's not necessarily a bad thing.  I have changed in a lot of ways, but I have kept a lot of my old habits at the same time.  I am grateful for what this blog did for me; it gave me a creative outlet when I needed someone to talk to, gave me a God to believe in when I wanted it, and always made for an interesting ice breaker.  It made it across 17 countries and was shared with over 6000 people - which is more than I ever would have dreamed.  I just know I am starting to go in different directions and I want this blog to stay true to what it is supposed to be: dedicated to kayaking. And I just can't be that person right now.  I don't think it was short lived... I think it served its purpose and was successful.  

   

   I am not saying this is goodbye forever, but it is for a while.  Maybe I'll come back, and tell you the tales I never told.  But maybe I won't.  You'll still find me out there kayaking, but maybe not writing about it afterwards.  If you see me paddling by, feel free to say hello, I'm not mean.  

   A year ago, my family had its second reunion.  At the end of the night, we all went outside to light some Chinese lanterns and set them free into the night sky.  I was so excited (I had seen them do it in the Hangover and had wanted to light one ever since), I grabbed mine and was ready to make my wish.  It took a little longer than I had imagined.  You have to hold the lantern for a few minutes while it fills up with hot air.  The trick is to wait for it to start pulling away.  You can't release it too early, because then it will just crash into the ground or do a barrel roll into the ocean.  Once it is ready, it will let you know and you have to let go.  So that night, I felt mine tug away from my fingers; so I said a prayer for Tricia and opened my hands.  The momentum had built up, so that lantern soared into the sky as if it had someone to see.  I watched as it became smaller and smaller and soon enough, it had become one of the stars.  

   That's what I am doing here: letting go of the blog because I can feel it tugging away.  It can be a beacon for others.  Know what you want and go and get it, stick with it and let it shape you, and then when it's done, let it go.  Maybe I will see you all again, back on the yak.  But if not, know that is okay.  I am out there doing well, letting dreams shape me.  But for now, this is me, saying goodbye.  

   Thank you for everything, I love you all,

   Jillianne Montomgery-Larson 

   #backontheyak

   

The New Year

   When I logged on to this blog, I wasn't expecting much.  The last time I had checked I had around 4800 views, so I figured that number wouldn't have changed much considering the fact that I have been off the grid for just about two months now.  However, surprises are real.  I logged on and was baffled when I saw that #backontheyak had accumulated a total of over 5150 views.  So obviously this blog is not a lost cause and there are still a few of you out there who have an interest in what I have to say.  Thank you for not abandoning me.
   It's January 4, 2016.  How crazy is that? I remember the first time I really realized the magnitude of a New year.  I was on my way to a dance with my YMCA Princess group and the year was 2001, soon to be 2002.  I remember thinking, "2002? That's wild."  I would have to write a different year on all of my papers at school and the teachers would have to erase the pre-set 2001 that had been written on all of the white boards.  One of my friends in the limo said, "Imagine what it will feel like when it's 2010!" I remember scoffing and thinking, "Yeah right, we're never going to get to 2010."  Well here we are in 2016...
   Allow me to have a moment of nostalgia.
   Every year I hear people say how year ____ is going to be "their year." As if they had accomplished nothing and had no source of happiness in the previous year.  Well among all you folks saying that you're leaving everything behind in 2015 and are determined to make 2016 the best year of your life, I'm here to tell you that 2015 was my year.  I kicked the year off by mustering up the courage to attend college.  I did, and I killed it.  Throughout the year I continued to make all A's in my classes, proving to those around me that I wasn't a basket case and I was capable of getting my act together.  Over the summer, I was responsible for maintaining the life of two young boys; they taught me patience and compassion and for once in my life I began to consider that motherhood could be a part of my later adult life.  That job gave me enough funds for me to singlehandedly support my self for the remainder of the year, which felt pretty awesome.  In between acing papers and raising two boys, I traveled alone visiting domestic places such as Austin, Texas and Atlanta, Georgia, along with Washington D.C.  I built a better relationship with old friends and I learned to let go of those new friends who may not have been actual friends.  I obtained a new personal record for the amount of books read in a year, and beefed up on all sorts of walks of life.  I flooded my room with French vocabulary in an attempt to become more literate in a foreign language.  However, somewhere between all of those lines, I also found myself in another personal mental crisis.  I wasn't unhappy, per se, but I wasn't necessarily happy either.  Instead of pulling the plug on my own life or running away to India, I learned the importance of relying on my support system.  I found my footing in the eyes of those who truly loved me.  During the turbulence, I realized that maybe art wasn't the path I needed to live on, but rather a side path that I could find joy in when needed.  The path that I needed to live on, the path that was always in my life but I had never considered building a home on was English.  It has always been something I can be passionate about and it is a subject in which I have always thrived.  I realized that I don't need to be different or peculiar in order for people to find me interesting.  Rather, someone taught me that I am perfectly capable of being loved if I remain 100% true to myself.  This person also taught me that the world isn't always out to get you, and that everything that comes out of a person's mouth isn't always a lie.  This person is my precious Logan and he has given me more than either of us thought possible.  I am able to live with my past and the mistakes that I have made, but I am also able to see a future, which is a new thing that I find... pretty amazing.  There is some goodness and kindness left in the world, and for once in my life, I feel safe and secure and beautiful and loved.
   This was my 2015.  Like most years, I exited the year a much different person than when I entered it.  Honestly, I am exiting the year as a person I never planned on being.  That is not a bad thing; it is actually the greatest blessing I have ever been given.  I entered 2016 in the arms of someone I love under a sky full of colors and blasts, and I am excited to see what the rest of the year has to offer.  Obviously, I can't speak for the rest of the year, but today, I am happy.  I feel myself sliding back into that yak and that puts a smile on my face.
   So thank you to those who haven't given up on my blog.  Thank you to those who abandoned me.  Thank you to my boys for naming me the Battleship Queen and for telling me that you love me.  Thank you to my mother and my father for remaining patient and supportive while I adjust to myself.  Thank you to my sister for coming to me when I was in a dark place and bringing me light before it was too late.  Thank you to my Schloemer family for providing me with a home when mine was not an option.  Thank you to Logan for exceeding all expectations and for constantly sweeping me off my feet and for holding me and kissing my forehead whenever I have a breakdown.  Thank you to everyone who participated in building this stronger and wiser Jillianne that is leaving 2015 and entering 2016.  You are worth more than you know.

Melatonin Thoughts: Episode One

   So it's not even 2 o'clock in the morning here on my beautiful southern college campus and I am awake.  I'm not trying to shock you or anything; a college kid and the wee hours of the morning are no strangers.  But anyway, I'm lying (laying? (chickens lay eggs, Jillianne. Humans lie down. (Right?)) I honestly don't know.) in bed, waiting for my melatonin sleep-aid to kick in and I just thought I'd check in with everyone, make sure you're all alive and well.  Also, besides the fact that this drug puts me out *snaps fingers* like that, I am also going in between this page on my computer and the one that is educating me on Italian folklore, so forgive me if my writing is scattered stylistically.  I also have a small stack of Oreos on my bedside table that I'm enjoying while I wait for this medicine to do its job.  Fun fact: Melatonin is also used to treat anxiety along with lack of sleep.  So I find it kind of ironic that Oreos are my vice of choice, because I feel like if there's anything on this world that would decrease sleep and increase anxiety, it would be Oreos.  But hey, whatever.
   Aren't relationships weird?  It's like, one day everything changes.  I am currently in a relationship, with the wonderful Lo who was featured in an earlier post on this very blog in which you find yourself currently.  He is wonderful, he truly is.  He was sick today, so wish him well.  But anyway, every now and again I will look at him and I'll just have this one macro thought that's really a billion things but it only takes a second for me to get the idea:
   Long before I met Lo, I thought I had met the one.  I was much younger and I was in a very different place in my life.  I would listen to those who said things like "The people you meet in high school won't be in your long-term life" and "high school love isn't forever" and I was just like "you have no idea what you're talking about. But me, I know what I'm talking about. I know it. I'm right."  Well, I was wrong.  And I have never found more delight in being completely wrong.  I spent years determined and convinced that I was going to spend my life with this certain person.  Even after we broke up for the last time, I still thought that after many years we would find our way back to each other and be together again (clearly I've watched far too many John Hughes and Nicholas Sparks movies and I need to go read Tolstoy or something).  But then when I decided to take a semester off instead of starting school, I began to realize that maybe that future wasn't in the cards for me.  I couldn't understand.  Why couldn't that work out for me?  I had already been through hell for many different reasons.  When I start school in January, I expect things to turn around.  I'm not saying I wanted this guy to be at my door step, but I wanted a friend.  I couldn't take any art classes so I had to endure everything else.  I had no friends except for the ones I arrived with and my life was numb.  I didn't hate myself, which was refreshing, but I wasn't in love with myself either.  I also couldn't understand why I wasn't being approached with friendship offers; I'm cute, I'm charming.  Life wasn't going my way and I didn't see why.  By the end of the semester, I'm sick of it.  I begin to make plans to transfer in a year or two to a school where I am adored for my charm and cuteness: Savannah College for Art and Design.   Fall arrives.  I have an art class.  I expect to make a friend.  I also expect this semester to not differ heavily from my previous semester.  I still expect to be in bed by 8, watch a movie on HBO every other day, and finish a book a week.  Once again, I was wrong.
   All that time I spent crying and looking at the sky asking someone up there, "WHY?! Why can't I have the things that I want? Why is everything in my life going wrong?!" That same someone was silently laughing back at me, because little did I know, that everything was actually going very right.
   It's crazy how you can be fully independent one day, and then the next you have this other person that you find yourself dependent on.  I'm not saying I need Lo for my survival.  But I am saying that when he isn't with me, I find myself looking around feeling the same way I felt as a child whenever I left my lunchbox at home.  You can live a day without lunch, but the day is so much better with the lunch, and after a few days without it, you just turn bitter and empty and your friends start offering you their rejected carrot sticks as if that can fill the hole.  He has truly become my other half and that is the best feeling in the whole world.  I actually have someone who twirls me around in the street not because I like it, but because he likes it.  I have someone whom I can tell the weirdest stuff to (I'd give an example, but again, it's weird, and he gets the point).  It's more than having a best friend.  Because yeah, I have best friends and they're sensational, but Lo is my best friend and I'm also in love with him which makes it even better.
   So in those heavy moments when I look at him and smile, the gist of what I'm feeling is something along the lines of "I love you. And I'm so glad my life was so shitty because it was all part of the miracle that got me to you."
   That's not really where I thought this post would take me... All I'm saying is that if you're in a bad place right now, keep your head up.  It's around the corner and you have to trust the world.  Good things are coming, and you have to survive in order to see it.  I promise, it's worth your while.
   I'm out of Oreos, I'll talk to you guys later.

This Has Nothing To Do With Kayaking

   Forgive the blunt title, but I don't know how else to say it. And I wanted to make it clear before you read this and say, "What the hell?"  This post is not going to be as linear as the others.  It's going to be more of a stream of consciousness, so excuse me because I'm basically going to be rambling. 

   I am starting to think that I am going to start using this blog for telling stories about things other than kayaking.  I mean, of course stories about the yak will still be told.. but, maybe I could talk about other things, too.  That would make this blog less of a brand and sort of become more of a movement and much more personal than it has been.  I know I have shown emotion in previous posts and written about terribly sad things and such, but I mean I could talk about the real stuff if I wanted to. 

   Maybe I should give you some context here.  Two years ago it was suggested to me that I could have depression.  I laughed at the idea because it was so obvious.  People who don't have depression don't spend their nights begging that spirit in the sky to take them away, and then wake up disappointed when they're still here.  So yeah, I was depressed.  

   I like to think that I am a rather content person.  I am not fidgety and I don't treat my phone like an IV.  I am more than willing to lie in the grass for hours and watch the clouds roll by.  I do not get bored and I love a companion's company.  I am perfectly capable of being able to just be.  And for a while I thought that meant that I was happy.  Because, shouldn't contentment and happiness be the same thing?  Maybe it is more important to be content than it is to be happy; or maybe you need one to have the other.  I don't know anymore.  

   The thing people have to understand about depression is that it is not an easy fix.  The key to pulling oneself out of the dark is not the same for everyone and it is not the same key every time.  You can get yourself to happy times, but that same trick won't do it for you the next time.  After time and time of doing this, you can imagine how the motivation can disappear.  I was in better days for a while, long enough for me to get the crazy idea that it could stay like that.  Then one day I found myself with my x-acto knife pressed against my leg.  The shear fact that I was doing it scared me and I called my friend at 2 o'clock in the morning to meet me in my car.  We sat there for hours saying things that I didn't even know were inside of me and I cried and cried until I truly couldn't cry anymore.  I had my head pressed against the window and I remember looking over at her and seeing that she was crying more than I was.  I smiled a weak smile at her and said, "Please don't cry.  It's going to be okay."  She cried even more and said, "You're not the one who should be saying that right now."  When I told her I didn't know what to do, she gave the simple answer: Do what you did last time.  Oh, simple and sweet friend.  If only it was that easy.

   Depression is scary because it can morph so easily.  It lies to you and there is nothing worse than having something inside you that makes you believe you're better off dead.  You can be in the clear one moment and then drowning in the darkness the next moment.  Something like that does not have a simple solution.  You can't take a pill and call it a day.  They have medicines, yes, but all they do is compress the feeling.  You can still say "I want to die," but when you try to act on it, it feels like someone or something is holding you back.  Maybe that's not the worst thing, but it isn't good when you actually need to show emotion.  Emotion isn't a bad thing when it's not trying to kill you.  The medicine also compresses happiness.  You can still say "This is so fun, I want to smile," but something is holding you back.  

   Depression is also scary because it can make you feel badly for feeling badly.  It makes you feel selfish and whiney.  I have a wonderful family who loves me, wonderful friends who make me laugh, a wonderful boyfriend who accepts me for the toddler I am, and a wonderful cat who is always happy to see me.  But that doesn't mean I am happy.  I appreciate all of the wonderful things my life has been blessed with, but I do not appreciate the demon inside of me that thinks all of those things would be happier without me.  Depression lies.  And it is ruthless.  And it will spin something beautiful into something gray and lifeless.  

   When I found myself crying in my car at 3 in the morning, I don't know if I was more upset over the things I was saying, or the fact that I was upset again.  After I spent so much time putting myself together again.  Imagine if the king's horses and men did put Humpty Dumpty back together again.  They spent years gluing him back together, piece by piece and shard by shard.  When they finally finished, they rejoiced and celebrated! Can you believe it? They accomplished an impossible task.  But then, someone tripped and poor Humpty Dumpty fell to his death once again.  The horses and men stood, looking at the chips by their feet with their mouths hung open.  The idea of spending all of that time again had no luster at all.  But would it be worth it?  Or should they just go home and call it a day?

   

   Maybe #BackOnTheYak could be a metaphor of sorts.  Kind of like the phrase: Back on the wagon.  I'll post updates: happy ones and sad ones.  The ultimate goal is to get back on the yak.  That could be the yak, literally, or a different one.  The yak being a place of original and pure happiness.  Because I'd really like to get back there.. 

Paddle Lo, Sweet Jellyfish

8:52 p.m. September 12, 2015
Logan: What time do I need to be there tomorrow?
Me: Maybe 9:30-10? The later it is, the choppier the water is
Logan: I'll probably leave my house at around 8:30
Me: Yeah, that sounds fine
Logan: Ugh I'm so excited. I think I'm going to go to bed right now so it will get here faster

My eyes open and I roll over to look at the clock.

9:10

   I blink at the time before I realize.. Logan will be here any minute. *Gasp* He could be here right now! Oh my God.  I leap out of bed and throw on some shorts.  My mother pokes her head in my door and says, "Sweetie, what time is Logan supposed to arrive?"
   I take a breath of relief and say, "I don't know, probably soon." I reach over my bed and look at my phone.

8:20 Logan: Well I'm leaving now
8:20 Logan: I'll see you in a bit
9:11 I'm like ten minutes away

   "Actually, he'll be here in ten minutes," I say with a smile.
   Mom nods and walks out.  I finish getting dressed before walking outside to get everything ready. I hear Mom call to me as I walk out the door, "Paddle and life vests are already in the car!" I turn around and sit in the kitchen with her and Kirby.
   Kirby is talking about the football games we missed last night and how his job "is really cutting into turn-up nights". I'm not paying attention, I just sit and watch out the window, waiting for Lo to pull up.
   I walk over into the dining room to look for my shoes when I see a car pull into the front circle.  A small squeal escapes my mouth and I smile over at my mother and say, "He's here."  She rolls her eyes as I dance out the door to give him a hug.
   "Welcome to my home!" I say as I wrap my arms around him.

   "Jillianne, do not go down Alligator Alley.  It's cold outside so they're probably all out and about enjoying this weather," my mother says as I fill up two water bottles.
   "I think it's the opposite," Kirby chimes in, "They don't like the cold."
   Mom gives him a glare and says, "No, there will be a ton of them, just waiting for a snack to drift by."
   Lo pipes in, "I actually think this guy is right.  They don't like cold. I think they'll just stay at the bottom."
   I laugh nervously as I search for the lids that go with the bottles.
   "Well, either way.." Mom can't finish her argument.

   During the drive to the launch, I give Logan the tour of my town; telling him which bank is mine, the school I went to, where Mom works, Jane Todd's house, and the beach.
   When we finally have the boats in the water, it's about 10:15.  I've been kayaking during this time before and I was nervous when I realized I would be doing it again today.  Normally at this time, the water starts to get wavy, making it difficult during certain stretches of the trip.  But today seemed to have a different aura about it.  The temperature was in the low 70s and there wasn't a cloud in the sky.  There was a nice breeze but it didn't seem to affect the water at all.  The water wasn't still, but it wasn't necessarily rough either, it seemed lovely.  For a normal September day in the South, it couldn't be any less normal.
   I push Logan out into the water and he tries to stay in place.
   "Paddle out into the opening," I say.
   "No, then I'll miss you. I'll sit and wait."
   I laugh and sit in my kayak, scooting along into the water.  Gliding past him, I head left out to the main water.  He trails behind me as I tell him which way the golf course is and which way we'll be coming back from, "Just so you know where you are," I smile at him.
   I look back and see Logan far behind.  I put my paddle down and fold my hands in my lap, listening to the cicadas' humming fill the air.  Normally in Mississippi, you can't see fall coming.  There is no transition, you go to bed one day in the summer and wake up the next morning in the winter.  Trees lose their leaves over night and what was once a lush green area becomes a dead brown spot all within the blink of an eye.  But on that abnormal September morning, I could feel fall approaching.  I looked up at the tops of the Pine trees that line the murky banks of this swamp and notice that the higher branches of needles have been dipped in shades of red and orange.  The majority of the tree is still green, and I think I probably wouldn't have noticed the change in color if I hadn't stopped to look.  Blades of grass that stick out above the water wave and dance as I drift, almost as if they are happy that I am back with them, enjoying this beautiful day in their company.
   Logan catches up with me and says, "I need to up my game so we can paddle together."
   I laugh and say, "I'll try to take it easy."

   We begin making our way through Alligator Alley and Logan comments on the beauty.  I nod but something next to me catches my eye.  At first I thought it was just a fish, but it was too white.  Then I thought it was a trash bag floating along, but when I focus on it through the dirty water, I realize: It's a jellyfish.  "Logan!" I yell. "Look! Oh my gosh! It's a jellyfish! What?! I've never seen one before! Why is it here! Logan, look! Oh my gosh! Do you see it? What on Earth? Can you believe it? A jellyfish, Logan! Look! Wait, oh my gosh, come back! I need a picture. Logan, do you see it?!"  I try to paddle back to find it as I whip out my camera.  It dances along through the water, twirling in circles and pumping up and down below me.  Logan makes his way over and watches it, not exactly sharing my same level of enthusiasm.  "How have I never seen one before?" I ask as I admire it from afar.
   Continuing down the alley, I spot another one. This one is red and much smaller than the last one.  Logan smiles and says, "Would you look at that?"
   As we paddle back around the island towards the house, Logan asks me how I know my way around so well, "Like, how did you find all of these little pathways and stuff?"  I tell him how when I first got my kayak, Trea and I went out here everyday and just took a different route each time.
   "So you mapped it out by just exploring?" he says.
   I smile, "Yeah.  I like it put that way."

   As we get closer to the launch, Logan grabs the side of my kayak and thanks me for bringing him out here.
   "I know how special this place is to you, and I appreciate the fact that you wanted to share it with me.  This has been wonderful, truly," he says with a smile before leaning over and giving me a kiss.  I smile and tell him that I hope he wants to come back sometime.
   We pull up to the launch and take a breath.  Logan sighs and says, "I don't want to stop, but I'm also really hungry."
   I laugh and suggest a good place for lunch.  I grab my paddle and look down into the water before I step out..
   And there, dancing above the ground in the 6-inch deep water that sits in between Lo and I, is a jellyfish.  My eyes widen and I smile, not having any words left to describe my joy.  Logan smiles at it and then smiles at me, saying, "What a perfect way to end this perfect trip."
 

Something Frowned Upon

   A few posts ago, I mentioned a time when Trea had to hoist me up onto a bridge so I could get some water.  As exhilarating as that sentence sounds, I thought that I would go into more detail, because believe it or not there is more to that story.  So here we go.  Trea darling, if I get something wrong, I apologize for it in advance.

   It's 10 o'clock in the morning, Trea and I have been out on this water for two and half hours already.  During the end of May, the sun is ruthless.  It does not hesitate to boil your skin and soul until they have been welded together in some inhumane fashion.  It sends any chance of a breeze running for cover, and rightly the breeze should.  We were the fools who wanted to be in those conditions, asking for trouble.  When we set "sail" into the water I realized that I had left my water bottle, my lovely one liter iced filled water bottle, in the car.  I being the fool thought that it wouldn't be that bad without it, we wouldn't go too fast and we wouldn't go too far, I could make it until we made it back to the car.  Yes, I know, I win the award for biggest fool.  Two and half hours later I quickly realized that.  Trea had water, but it too had been damaged by the cruel sun hanging maliciously in the sky, and there was no way I was about to drink after him.  When we paddled through the golf course I spotted a small shack just off the bank.  It housed two bathrooms and a water fountain that from my perspective seemed to be blessed by the Gods themselves.  I quickly looked around the edges of the water, searching for a place that would sit my kayak comfortably while I could easily step out onto firm earth.  Unfortunately there was no such luck, all edges in that area are covered with thick tall grass that grows out from the muddy bottom of the water making it impossible to pull a kayak into it never mind trying to step out.  I already had a death wish with the sun, I wasn't about to up the chances by battling a water moccasin.  After deliberating, I sheepishly look over at Trea who was fishing for golf balls.  "Trea?" I call out to him.  "Hmm?" he responds curtly.  I stutter, "Could you help me?"  He sighs and points his kayak in my direction.  As he gets closer, he reaches out for the side of my yak and grabs hold of it, pulling us side by side.  "What?" he smiles.  I gesture up towards the bridge, "Could you maybe give me a lift?"  He shields the sun away from his eyes with his hand as he peers upward.  "I'll hold your kayak steady.  You stand and pull yourself up."  That sounded as good a plan as any so I didn't object.  He reached his arm over so he could hold the other side of my kayak as well.  Finding my balance was the tricky part, my kayak was not made to be stood upon.  I reached up for one of the beams in the bridge before I really found my footing and hoisted myself onto it.  The kayak wobbled beneath me as I pulled one leg up after another.  Just as I had both feet up, we hear a golf cart approaching.  We had no idea if trespassing was.. well, trespassing, but we didn't think these golf members would take too kindly to two kids kayaking and then busting up in their club to use their facilities.  Trea yelled quietly at me as I leaped across the bridge into the grass to the water fountain, "GO! Go go go! Act like you belong! If someone says something, say we just paddled in from New Orleans! Go!... Don't run! Calm, Jillianne, calm!"  Anything that happened after that was a blur, because I had water.  To be honest, I don't think I have ever had anything that tasted sweeter.  It was by far the best thing that had ever graced my lips in a very long time.  I pulled away and held my head to the sky as I took a breath and then took a few more gulps before running back across the bridge.  Now, due to the extreme euphoria that had just entered my life, the next few actions probably didn't happen exactly the way I remember them happening.  What I remember is me flinging both legs over the railing of the bridge while holding it with one arm and balancing with the other and placing both of my feet just so in my kayak that all I had to do was just sit down and take the paddle from Trea.  I remember all of this happening in one quick fluid movement that I felt like I needed to be cast in the next James Bond movie.  I'm sure what actually happened was me landing in my kayak like a sack of potatoes, Trea laughing at me for five minutes, and my outfit becoming completely soaked by my lack of grace, along with multiple bruises and scrapes appearing from getting too cozy with the wooden bridge.  But I am going to go with the first one.  On the way back, Trea paddles next to me and says, "Oh!" as he reaches for something in between his feet, "While you were making a fool out of yourself, I got you this."  He opens his hand and reveals a bright yellow golf ball with a small shell pattern printed on it.  I smile and take it, "Thank you, Trea!  I will keep it always."  He scoffs with a smile, "Yeah, whatever," and paddles on in front of me.

Off The Yak: In College

   First things first (I'm the realest), I apologize to anyone who comes to my blog and expects to find every post be about kayaking.  I realize that nowadays each entry gets a little further away from that and becomes more centered about my schooling.  But my readers need to realize that I am not back on the yak as much as I would like to be.  Last year it was my reality because it was what I had time for.  Now, school is my reality.  I've traded my paddle for a paper.  It's harsh and I wish it weren't true, but unfortunately we can't always get what we want.  But I will make this promise to you: For every lousy post about college, I will post two about a previous kayaking excursion.  How is that? I hope that is sufficient enough.  Don't fret and don't leave me.  More is to come.  Announcements to be made.  Each day that goes by is one day closer to warmer weather.  The kayaks will come out of storage soon enough.  I promise.

   Now, to business.  I realize that I have only been in college for two months, but I pay attention and stay aware so I have already concocted a list of tips that up and coming collegians should have under their hat:

• Cover the walls
• Go to Target, buy a fair share of Command hooks (buy the ones that can hold a hefty amount of weight, 3lbs) Bring pictures, paintings, posters, anything.  Buy a cheap chalkboard decal, stick some on the wall or on the door to draw pictures or leave notes for your roommate.  Hang a bulletin board, dry erase board, a calendar.  Every space you cover makes your room more and more homey.  If you have your own bathroom, bring pieces to hang up in there.  Have some things by the door and by the vanity.  Any wall space is an opportunity.
• Take out the trash
• Do not wait until you are playing a game of Jenga with the trash.  The trashcan will win, and you will have a monstrosity of a mess to clean up.  Once a week.  It's easy.  You leave for class 7 minutes earlier and bring the bag with you.  
• Stay on top of everything
• Homework is a given.  You get an assignment on Monday.  "But it's not due until Wednesday."  No.  Do it Monday night.  Do not wait until 10 o'clock on Tuesday night to do it.  Something could go wrong, the printer could decide to throw a fit, you may not understand something, you may have something else you really want to get to.  
• Plan ahead, at least a little
• Dish out time accordingly.  The other night I had a club meeting to go to.  I looked on their Facebook page to find that they would be watching a movie.  How fun!! I love movies!  Unfortunately I had a huge history exam the following morning.  I couldn't justify going to see a film when I had studying to do.  If the meeting had been a discussion or planning an event, I would have gone.  But it was actually the perfect meeting to skip.  You can't be too prepared for anything, especially a test.  And there is no worse feeling than that sinking feeling of I shouldn't have done.. I should have studied.
• Read
• Instead of watching TV in between classes, read a book.  You feel much more productive and satisfied afterwards, plus it gives much more knowledge than any TV program.  Reading is a skill, you get better with practice.  Each time you read you get a little faster and you retain a little more, which is a wonderful tool to have in college.
• Go to the cafeteria for food
• It's free, it's hot, it's not all bad, and someone else makes it.  While having a few snacks in the room is nice, don't waste all your money on instant food when you have a plethora of food you are already paying for waiting for you in the Union. 
• Don't just stock up on cookies.  Visit the salad bar, get some chick peas, load up your plate with strawberries.
• Attend class
• I know it's tempting.  Believe me.  You're all snuggled up and cozy in your warm bed, the last thing you want to do is walk across campus in 20 degree weather to your 9 am class.  But go anyway.  Most classes have an attendance policy and you are only given so many days to miss before your grade is lowered.  Don't say, "Screw this, I got 4 more days I can miss.  I'm sleeping in."  No.  Go to class.  Save those days for when you are sick or it's the last couple weeks of school and you were up all night tweaking a paper.  
• Also, teachers love to give random attendance quizzes.  One day in my psychology class, about 18 out of 200 people showed up.  My professor smiled at us and said, "This looks like a great day to take role."  
• You don't need Starbucks everyday
• It's right there, you pass it everyday, and the line is so short right now!  I get it.  But your wallet does not.  And after three or four weeks when all you have is spare change, was it all really worth it?  Last night I asked my roommate if she wanted to go to Chick-fil-A with me, she sighed and said she couldn't because she had already spent all 275 dollars worth of her Bonus Bucks (if you have a meal plan, it normally includes something like this to spend at restaurants on campus).  I was shocked, "HOW?"  She laughed and said that after her English class she always goes to Starbucks and gets a venti ice tea. sigh
• Don't be afraid to switch roommates
• She's a slob, she's rude, and she snores.  No hard feelings.  Go to your RA and tell her.  This is about you.  Your dorm room should be a sanctuary of sorts, it should be comforting.  If your roommate is scary or you dread seeing her in the room when you get back, that's not good.  Be with someone who is comforting, or at least doesn't sleep in your bed when you're gone.
• Start a long lasting relationship with water
• Buy a case for your room each month.  Carry one in your backpack at all times.  Trade in your Sprite for it at lunch.  Always have one with you in class.  
• Go to the gym
• People, it's free.  You're paying to be there, the gym is at your disposal.  And it's so nice!  Just go for a little bit.  Take a Zumba class! Or yoga! Or CrossFit!  It's FREE!  When you're an adult, you'll be wishing you had a free gym right down the street from you.
• Don't buy a printer
• It only costs 5 cents a page to print.  Let's say you buy a printer that costs 35 dollars.  Just for the printer to pay for itself, you would need to print over 700 sheets.  That's just to cover the cost of the printer.  What about paper? And INK?  Ink is the most ridiculously overpriced item on the market.  I don't know what you're printing, but I can take a guess and say that it's not more than 700 pages.  I know having a printer in your room is convenient, but it is so not worth it.  

Keep Calm and Paddle On

   The other day someone asked me, "Oh, you still kayak?"
   I was a little stunned.  I had no idea kayaking was such a fad to this ignorant person.  Of course I still kayak you moron.  Why would I not kayak?  You ask as if it's a parallel to playing with Polly Pockets or flipping the light switch on and off nine times before leaving a room.  Why on Earth would I not kayak anymore?
   I respond with a puzzled, "Yess..?"
   The person takes a sip of a drink and says cooly, "Why?"
   "What do you mean?"
   Is this a trick question?  I feel like I'm in a beauty pageant and I'm obligated to respond with an answer along the lines of, "For world peace, of course,"  followed with the audience applauding me for my profound yet pompous answer.
   My actual response could be one of the following two:
   
1)     "My God, tell me again how many times you were dropped as a baby?  Of course I kayak.  It's hard work and something I thoroughly enjoy.  And I'm extremely fortunate to have something that qualifies as both.  It seems a chore until I'm out on that water, when all cares melt away under the sun.  Actually working towards my destination using only the paddle in my hands.  Listening to the birds as they tell me about their lives through song.  Watching the mullets as they fly out of water not once, not twice, but a remarkable three times!  Hearing the waves as they ripple past me.  Waving hello to families sitting on their porches enjoying the day with me.
     "Kayaking is almost a religious experience for me.  It leaves me feeling the same way a devout feels when they leave Church, Temple, Dhyana, or any other religious ceremony in current existence.  I don't always believe in a celestial being, but when I do, it's when I'm out in that bay.  My eyes are closed, my head is back, and my face is head on with the boundless sky.  Nothing moves, there is complete silence, and everything is in alignment with each other.  I feel like I'm floating while watching my body sit on the water.  In that moment, I can feel the higher power kissing me on the forehead in approval.  And then I'm jolted back to Earth.
     "So yes, I "still kayak" and I do it because I have yet to find anything quite like it."

2)     "Because it's awesome and I love it and you have no idea."

   You can decide for yourself which one I said.
 

Up There

   "The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away"
                                                     Job 1:21


   It's day 3 of the perfect kayak week*.  Trea is the best partner to have while trying to accomplish something like this.  He's right down the road, he has a kayak, and he loves it as much as I do.  This week was tough though.  Our friend, Tricia, was in the hospital after being in a terrible car accident.  She was one of three passengers in the vehicle.  The other two, her brother and her boyfriend, had died earlier in the week.  She was in a coma and the doctors were doing their best to relieve the pressure from her brain.  That's another reason why Trea is the best to have around.  While others would say it's incredibly selfish to think only of myself while my friend of four years could possibly be dying,  Trea wouldn't.  Kayaking was the escape.  It took our mind off the terrible and focused it on to something beautiful.  While Tricia was still on our brains, we couldn't help but think that everything was going to be okay as we watched the sky flood with pinks, oranges, and purples, as the sun set over the water.
   We paddled out into the bay.  This was actually my first time going into the bay.  Before, I hung back as I watched Trea's bravery take him farther than mine would.  But this time was different.  Carpe Diem really seemed to have much more meaning this week.  So when he told me to follow him out into the bigger water, I didn't protest.  I stayed by his side.
   The air was warm but it had a cozy feeling about it.  I took a swig of my water and watched the sky.  Yellow's blending into pinks while the sun peered in from behind.  This was always my favorite part of the kayak trip. Wide open waters with a view consisting of only waves outlined with the distant trees.  Boats scattered about, some zipping circles around themselves, others sitting peacefully enjoying the same sky I am.  Every now and then the clouds would move in such a way creating a hazy overcast pink glow.  The setting sun peering through at odd angles so one could actually see the rays beaming down over the water.  Completely romantic, it seemed as if two total strangers found themselves with each other out on this water, that was it.  Instant love.  A scheme that only Cupid himself could be to blame.  Each ray of sun one of his arrows in disguise.  It was a scene that belonged only in a painting, but I got to see it for free.  It's in these moments, with the boats, the sun, the water, that made everything seem worth it.  As if it were an omen telling me that things really are okay.  How could they be bad when there is something as perfect as this moment?
   "See how fun it is to try new things, Jillianne?" Trea smiled.
 
 
   I'm snuggled up in my bed, fan blasting, cat sleeping on my feet, music playing, when my phone lets out its alerting whistle.
   I have a message from Trea.
   'Jillianne' it reads.
   I respond with the obvious 'Trea'
   He quickly answers 'She's gone.'
   'What are you talking about?'
   A moment goes by before my phone whistles again.
   'Tricia, she's dead.'


*The perfect kayak week is when one tries to kayak at least a certain distance every consecutive day for one week.  It seems easy before one actually starts.  After the third day, you really start to feel it.  And your poor legs have given up on the concept of "sunburn".

   This event happened in late May, and it's taken me a while to be able to write about it.  This was before I had the RunKeeper app so I don't have the stats from this trip.
   RIP Tricia, I love you and thank you for being my friend at school when no one else was and for always being able to crack me up.  Also, thank you for coming to my rescue in Econ when I didn't have a colored pen to grade Trea's paper with.  It sits on my shelf still.

The Wolf

   This kayak adventure is not a new one.  Instead, it's a throwback, a homage if you will, to dear Trea.  He was featured in the first story on #backontheyak.  Sadly, that was the last time I saw him.  He's out doing his thing at college.  On his way to becoming a very successful doctor, I'm sure.  I miss him, of course, but we had our time.  As short as it was, it was still pretty rad.  So here's a story of one of the many times he accompanied me while kayaking.

   I pull up to his driveway and sit for a minute.  I don't even have to get out of the car.  The garage door grumbles open and he emerges.  He doesn't wave at me or smile at me.  Instead he smirks, walks right up to my window, and presses his phone against it.  I stare at it blankly.
   He points to the time and mouths, "7:31."
   I roll my eyes and laugh, "Oh my gosh.  God forbid, I'm one minute late.  You'll be alright."
   He just shakes his head out of disappointment.
   "Just get your kayak and c'mon."
 
   Trea and I have mastered Mallini's.  No shocker there.  After 7+ times of going in and out of the bay in every which way possible with each other, we decided the two of us are ready to graduate to bigger and better things.  The Wolf River.

   I turn onto the dusty gravel road and park next to some fishermen.  There aren't any other kayakers or paddleboarders, just some teenagers tossing the fishing line in the water.  So really we have the place to our selves.  That's always nice.
   We help each other put the kayaks in the sandy water and strap on our life vests.  Trea asks which way we should go.  Without thinking I say right.  We pass under a bridge and paddle by a few logs that Trea first thinks are gators.  It's fourth of July weekend so every now and then we play chicken with boats and jet skiers before eventually merging to the right so they can zip by.
   Now, as great as it was to get out of Mallini's and get some new scenery, the scenery on the Wolf didn't have much variation.  It consisted of only bush, tree, bird, log, bush, tree, bird, log, bush, tree, bird, log, bush, tree, bird, log.  After a while, that gets old really quickly.  There's no way to tell how far you've gone or how fast you're going.  You look back and think, "Is that the bush I just passed? Or the one I looked at 30 minutes ago?"  There were no houses to admire or people to wave at.  Just bush, tree, bird, log.
   After a while, Trea speaks up, "Oh Jillianne! You'll appreciate this.  I started a journal."
   I laugh, "Why?"
   "I just write about my day."
   "Alright, groovy.  How long have you been doing this?"
   He grins, "I started yesterday."
   "Okay," I smile at him, "you've got to start somewhere."
   We come across a fork in the river.  Trea continues on to examine a log that looks like a pipe that looks like an alligator.  I turn around.  I don't bother telling him, he'll figure it out, he's smart.  And if that fails, I have my phone.
   The way back is nice. Me and myself, as they say.  I try to get a grasp on how fast I am going.  Sure I have my app telling me my pace but that doesn't help.  I look for something in the distance that I can use as a reference point.  Alas.  I look back every few minutes or so to see if Trea has caught up to me yet.  Again, alas.  Still just me and myself.
 
   Finally, as I'm crossing under the bridge again, something rams into me.
   Trea.
   "I thought for sure you'd be asleep in the car by the time I got back," he laughs, "Or worse, that you'd just straight up leave me here."
   I punch him in the shoulder, "I'd never do that to you."


Distance  3.55 miles
Time  1:18:39
Min/Mile  22:09
Calories  319
 

It's KAYAK PLAYLIST 2, y'all

As promised, more music to jam to while hitting the yak.  There's something for everyone.  Whether you're a Disney fan or a Christmas fan, I've got you covered.  Enjoy.

Cum On Feel the Noise - Quiet Riot
In the Summertime - Mungo Jerry
Blurred Lines (feat. T.I. & Pharrell) - Robin Thicke
Interlude: Holiday - Paramore
Ribs - Lorde
I Don't Feel Like Dancin' - Scissor Sisters
Ev'ry Time We Say Goodbye - Lady Gaga
I Wan'na Be Like You (The Monkey Song) - Louis Prima & Phil Harris
Below My Feet - Mumford & Sons
Till Kingdom Come - Coldplay
I Sill Haven't Found What I'm Looking For - U2
I Lived - OneRepublic
Blue Christmas - Michael Bublé
Everything Has Changed (Remix) [feat. Ed Sheeran] - Taylor Swift
Stubborn Love - The Lumineers
Kingfisher - PHOX
I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles) - The Proclaimers
Song for Zula - Phosphorescent
Alligator - Paul McCartney
Happily - One Direction
Sweet Disposition - The Temper Trap
Interlude: I'm Not Angry Anymore - Paramore
Something I Need - OneRepublic
Temperature - Sean Paul
Take a Walk - Passion Pit
Si tu vois ma mère - Sidney Bechet

THE KAYAK PLAYLIST: Part One, of course

Each time I go kayaking, I gather together a hand full of songs and play them during the journey.  Each time is different, but there are always some repeats, only the best of the best.  The following list is just a few of the songs that I have found create the perfect mood while paddling across the murky waters among a flock of baby ducks.  There is no certain order, straight through or shuffle, makes no difference.  These are some of my favorites, feel free to share your own! 

Spirit In The Sky - Norman Greenbaum

Another Story - The Head and the Heart

He Mele No Lilo - Kamehameha Schools Children's Chorus & Mark Keali'i Ho'omalu

Too Much - Elvis Presley

Just Around the Riverbend - Judy Kuhn

Shower - Becky G

Family Tree - Kings Of Leon

Nirvana - Sam Smith

Hawaiian Roller Coaster Ride - Kamehameha Schools Children's Chorus & Mark Keali'i Ho'omalu

Stuck On You - Elvis Presley

Joy Of Nothing - Foy Vance

Somewhere Over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World- Israel Kamakawiwo'ole

Come to Me - The Goo Goo Dolls

Just One Yesterday (feat. Foxes) - Fall Out Boy

Closed Hand, Full of Friends - Foy Vance

Suspicious Minds - Elvis Presley

First Day of My Life - Bright Eyes

I Will Remember - Train

Next Year - Two Door Cinema Club

Blue - Beyonce Feat. Blue Ivy

Runaway - Ed Sheeran

Do I Wanna Know? - Arctic Monkeys

Burning Love - Elvis Presley

Better Days - Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros 

Gonzo - The All-American Rejects

Hook - Blues Traveler

The Weight - The Band

Dust To Dust - The Civil Wars

If It's the Beaches - The Avett Brothers

Pops

   As some know, I'm taking this semester off.  I will not start college until January.  I needed time to think and I needed time to do things I should have done in high school.  Read books, not magazines.  Work seriously on my art.  Keep up with the world, not just the Kardashians.  And it's been going well so far.  I've completed over six novels, I'm putting together a show at a local art gallery, and I got a totally rad job at BCBG Max Azria.  Taking these five months off was one of the best decisions I've ever made.
   The only down side.. all of my friends are gone.  Well, all three of them.  Nonetheless, my options for kayak partners has dramatically decreased.  Patrick is still here of course, finishing up his last year of high school, but he hates kayaking.  So that's a dud.  My sister is around, but she's too glued to studying her precious notecards.  There's mom, but she's too tired, too busy, and far too grouchy.  So that really only leaves one person.
   My father.
   When I asked him if he would like to go, he responded with ample enthusiasm.
   "OF COURSE!  I've been telling you since you bought it that I would LOVE to go kayaking with you!! Thank you so much for asking me, sweetie!"
   It would be good.  He's a triathlete and an Iron Man so I knew he would be able to keep up with me and that he wouldn't complain.  I asked where he wanted to go and naturally he said, "It doesn't matter to me, Jillianne.  I'm just happy to spend time with you."  So I took him where I take all new-comers, Mallini's.  It was the perfect place for beginners.  Great sense of scenery, surrounded by houses, plenty of wildlife, all while having an easy compact route.
   The morning of our adventure, I check the radar and see that we may run into some rain.  I put heavy emphasis on the word "may", strap up the kayaks, waterproof my phone, douse myself in bug repellent, and drive on over to Dad's house.
   He comes down the stairs and meets me in his gravel driveway.  He had a long sleeve quick dry T-shirt that he no doubt acquired for free from one of his past triathlons, a pair of long khaki cargo pants that looked like they belonged to one of the members of Duck Dynasty, and a green Tilly hat.  He opens the car door and takes a seat next to me.
   "What on Earth are you wearing? It's like 90 something degrees outside," I ask.
   He looks down at his pants, "It's all breathable.  I don't want to get sunburnt."
   I make a gentle scoff and put the car in reverse.

   I'm disappointed to see waves when we pull up to the edge of the boat launch.  Clearly spoiled from my last kayaking trip..
   I give Dad a push out into the water and he rocks back and forth trying to find his balance.  We roll out and the thought of taking it slow doesn't even cross my mind.  After a while I look back and ask Dad if this speed is okay, is it too fast, too slow, what?
   "I don't know, you've got a nice little clip on you," he laughed.
   We make it around the bend and come to the area right before the opening to the Bay.  The waves pick up and I hesitate to keep going.  The worst thing is to get caught in the current, you end up kayaking on a treadmill going absolutely nowhere.  So we sit.
   The sun gleaming down on us, rain clouds threatening, waves rocking, mowers mowing, the usual drama in Mallini's.  After about 15 minutes of lounging in the yaks, I ask Dad if he wants to turn around.  His head pops up and he smiles, "Oh, I almost fell asleep, it's so peaceful out here."
   That makes me happy.

Distance  2.65 miles
Time  1:13:45
Min/Mile  27:50
Calories  275

Sae and the Sea

Where's Brutus?

   Okay, so, this post isn't about a kayak excursion.  Instead, it's about the blog's new mascot. 

   An alligator named Brutus.  

   He is a 5 foot stuffed animal alligator that Sarah Anne got for me as a I'm-Sorry-I-Have-To-Go-To-College-While-You-Stay-Here-Without-Me gift.  Pretty darn sweet of her, I know.  

   He's one of the best things anyone has ever given me.  Partly because it was a complete surprise.  And I love surprises.. especially ones that are almost as big as I am.  He's life size and even better than a real alligator because I can hug him and he won't snap at me.  And the best part is, now I don't have to wait to get back on the yak in order to see a gator! There's a nice soft one chilling in my bed 24/7.  

   Also, the name Brutus, if you're an avid Disney fan, you may already know, but he's named after one of Medusa's alligators in The Rescuers. 

   So look out for Brutus, maybe one day I'll even take him out kayaking with me.

The Loop, Part II

   Sarah Anne and I put the mud cookies away and turn the kayaking playlist back on, bracing ourselves for the four mile trek ahead of us.
   The whole scene had a very spooky feel to it.  Yes, it was breathtakingly beautiful, but it was also very frightening.  The neighboring houses had no members sitting on their porches, there were no birds serenading us with their song, the lawns had no lawnmowers erupting over them.  The only sound was the occasional mullet that would hurl itself out of the water and flop back into again.  The water was the stillest I've ever seen it and the air was crisp with warmth.  Just sitting there, I could almost see my previous worries evaporating up into the empty air.  I sort of didn't want to move.  It felt like time was frozen and I had found myself in an Edward Hopper painting, but if I moved, reality would strike and the waves would assume their place.  That's what it felt like anyway.
   I took a deep breath and began to gently pull my way forward.  Sarah Anne followed as we traveled along the shore, under and around piers that had been destroyed by past hurricanes and abandoned by their previous caretakers.  Leaving them alone in the water, each post jaggedly poking out covered in barnacles and slimy moss.  We passed an eerie post that hung horizontally, and atop it sat about a dozen pelicans, eyeing us.  Some would fly away and head for further ground when we passed by and others would remain, their eyes sitting in their fowl head following our every movement.  Sarah Anne and I quietly came to a stop in an attempt to snap some pictures of the flock.  The sun was blinding causing my phone's screen to appear black, but I went on capturing the moment anyway.
   We drifted on by silently and once we passed the herd of birds, Sarah Anne asked if I would play some of the Pocahontas soundtrack.  I don't think there is any music more appropriate for a kayaking excursion.

   We make it to the Bay bridge and rest in its shade.  I pull out my phone and tell Sae that we should make a fun video.  We film each other paddling around, trying to be sneaky, and when we're finished I put the footage to the Pink Panther theme song.  Just something fun for the Instagram followers..

   Mallini's other opening was right next to the bridge, so we knew we were over half way there.  We paddled on, we were both beginning to feel the strain in our shoulders, but as Sarah Anne put it, "The faster we go, the sooner we get home." Wise words.
   This side of the loop was far more livelier than the other side had been.  Fishermen lined the docks, they tipped their hats when we passed by and we veered to one side or the other to not get caught in their fishing line.  One even suggested that we do circles around the fish and herd them towards the men.  Sarah Anne and I would just laugh and continue on our way.
   We passed the small harbor where Trea and I had seen the boat from New Jersey and then we passed Alligator Alley and I told Sae that we were getting closer.  She sighed a sigh of relief as the house got more and more in our reach.  To continue with the Pocahontas theme, I said, "The house is just around the river bend."
   Arms burning, water bottles empty, collars drenched with sweat, we landed.  My foot thudded against the ground and I wobbled when I stood.  I checked the RunKeeper app to see how far we had gone.. 4.93 miles.
   Sarah Anne hung her head when I told her.  "We could just go right back out and do a few spins to put us at 5," I suggested.
   She got out of her kayak, "If anyone asks, we did 5."


Distance  ≈ 5 miles
Time  2:06:08
Min/Mile  25:38
Calories  485

A Little Answer

   There is a question that everybody seems to ask me.  My friends, family, colleagues, even my doctors, all ask the same question, "Jillianne, what made you want to get a kayak?"
   So here we go, it's short, I promise.
   It wasn't because I went kayaking or because I saw it in a movie or I heard that the cool kids in school had one.  It must have been the fates, divine inspiration, two objects destined to be together: me and kayak.  Because in all honesty, I just woke up one morning and I knew.  The thought flooded every bone in my body, my heart ached from longing.  I needed a kayak.
   I would constantly be looking for one online, scavenging through eBay and Craigslist, searching for that perfect kayak.  Whenever Patrick and I went to Academy, we always stopped by the kayak aisle so I could just look at them.  At times I would even take a picture of them for my phone's background.  My parents' emails were full of links and coupons that I had sent, hoping they would start to get the obvious hint and put their heads together to get me one.
   Some say I was obsessed with the idea; I like to think I was in love with it.  In love with the thought of being out on that still water with the sun beaming down on me, the sound of the water being paddled past me, the birds' chirps surrounding me, the canopy of trees casting its cool shade over my legs and face.  It consumed my thoughts.
   Until finally, after begging and pleading to anyone within earshot and my mother actually banning the word "kayak" from the household (me being the smart aleck that I am, whenever I said it and mother would yell at me, I would simply claim that I was saying the word backwards, which, coincidentally is still kayak), graduation and my birthday rolled around, and I received more than enough generous funds to buy everything I needed for college.  Which meant that my dream was in reach.  I took my wallet down to Academy one morning and purchased the love of my life.
   And I tell you what, seeing my beautiful bright orange yak strapped to the top of the car.. there's not a feeling quite like it.  And anyone who argues that are the ones who haven't been out there with me.