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Windsurfing

KK's 40 and a light has gone on in his head: He wants to re-live his Olympian days. First it was the cycling to and from work which has been going on for six months, and is still going strong, rain or shine. 

Then suddenly, as we approached the end of the year, he announced that he is going to start windsurfing, a sport which he had stopped oh, maybe seven or more years ago to replace with golf. 

I ask: “Are you not going to golf anymore?” He says: “No. I’m still going to. When it’s off-season I can play golf.” These days, I am of universal benevolence and as long as he is happy, I am happy. (in other words, I don’t care!) 

Honestly. I like that he is going to windsurf again. I have always thought of my husband as a windsurfer than a golfer. Operation Windsurf is short and sharp. When KK makes up his mind, he doesn’t stop to consider options. In two days, he installs a roof rack on the car and gets his hands on a board, a mast, a boom, a sail, surf shorts, harness, life jacket. My mother and brother Teng see the equipment on the car and they are slightly numb with surprise, that a golfing father of three young kids has so much time. 

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D-day arrives. Saturday, a blistering hot day, our whole family drive out to a little corner of Changi Beach which is peopled with windsurfers and kitesurfers. Me and the kids spread out our picnic mat under the coconut trees – thank God for good shade - and tear into our usual ham-cheese-cucumber combo.  

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KK suits up and waits. Once the wind starts blowing away our hats and food, he steps onto the board and sails off. To my great surprise, he doesn’t fall once. Day is curious, for a while. 

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The girls do not pay attention. After a while, we go back to making sand pits and hills, burying odds and ends (slippers and food wrappers) all over the beach and taking photos. Which is what we end up doing for over three hours. 

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The man doesn’t stop. While is mildly disconcerting because the wind is gusting and for a 40-year-old to be planning up and down, exercising parts of his body he hasn’t used in seven years on a brand new set of equipment, is not kosher. But he goes on. It’s too damn thrilling.

  

* KK manages a gybe (at about 15 seconds) Everytime I see people windsurfing, I wish I could do it. The thrill is something else. But the pain and the work and the skill required (yes I tried) is ridiculous. We ask the kids, all tired out in the car, if they want to windsurf. All three instantaneously shout NO! Pui. 

Aftermath: For the rest of Saturday, he hobbles, his arms and back and abdomen hurt, his face and arms are brick-red, he’s wasted! But he’s OK on Sunday. Now we need to find a way to make the entire beach experience a better one for the waiting family. A tent, perhaps. Board games.

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