Charles has such unpredictable wind pattern - we all Bostonian knew it just from a regular rainy day. But not until you're sailing in it, in the middle of the turmoil, that you realize how every minute nuances affects you, and what your reactions are toward changes. Fear was one thing, but I should be glad that the fear of mediocrity has brought me over fear of physical inequity. After being alone on the Charles for an hour, I finally found my boat and myself reacting to wind like how a cat would land on unexpected fall over.
The adrenaline rush was priceless. The peace that came the few seconds you find yourself at the right angle upwind, sailing at the right tension, even more profound. Something easier said than done actually took place - let out and tighten at the right moments, and go out of your way to do something wild.
