February 22nd: The Day I Finally Flew — Celebrating My First Real Foiling

February 22nd. For days, the forecast had been screaming, "Heavy winds in the afternoon." We were looking at 8–9 m/s—a pattern where it jumps from a calm 3–4 m/s in the morning to a full blast later on.

To be honest, my sweet spot is usually 5–6 m/s. Anything over 8 m/s feels a bit overpowering for me. But this time was different. "Today is the day. I’m going to lift. I’m going to fly. I’m going to master this." I had this unshakable conviction. I felt that once I could foil steadily, my muscle memory would take over, just like riding a bike. I headed to the beach with enough intensity to "graduate" from lessons today.

Starting with the 5㎡: Still Keeping My Cool

When I arrived, the wind hadn't fully kicked in yet. My instructor suggested preparing both the 5㎡ and 4㎡ wings since the conditions were expected to ramp up. We got both ready. The wind was coming from the south—slightly onshore—and the waves were still small. Low risk. I rigged the 5㎡ and headed out.

I went through the usual routine:

- Climb steady upwind.

- Turn downwind to accelerate.

- Try to initiate the lift with pumping.

I kept repeating the motions, trying to recall that "almost-lifting" sensation from last time. However, the wind was still a bit light during the first half, making it tricky to sync my wing pumping with the board’s movement. I felt the board get light and airy once, but I stalled immediately. "I’m so close," I muttered.

The Wind Picks Up: Reaching the Limit of the 5㎡

Before long, the wind surged. Suddenly, I was just hanging onto the wing for dear life. Simply controlling it took everything I had; pumping was out of the question. I had entered "overpowered" territory. My instructor called out, "Want to tough it out with the 5, or switch to the 4?" If I pushed too hard, my arms would be finished. I made a calm call: "Switching to the 4."

Heat and Dehydration

Back on shore, it was about 15°C. Even in a semi-dry suit, it was sweltering. I was drenched in sweat and parched. I polished off my water bottle in one go. "Mistake... I should have brought way more water." Regardless, I re-rigged the 4㎡ and headed back out.

Into the Foiling Zone with the 4㎡

Switching to the 4㎡ made a world of difference. The wind was strong, but now it was manageable. I climbed upwind again and prepared for another downwind run. My instructor was circling nearby, effortlessly gliding on his foil and giving me tips over the radio. He made it look so easy and fun. "I want to be like that soon." Even as I struggled with the wing, my goal was crystal clear.

The First "Sustained" Flight

A few more tries. —I lifted. And then I dropped. But on the next attempt, something changed. The board rose smoothly and... it stayed there. Five seconds. The foil was unmistakably clear of the water’s surface. "I’m flying!" It wasn't stable yet, and eventually, I came back down. But this was clearly different from the "split seconds" I’d experienced before.

The Decisive Moment During Solo Practice

The formal lesson ended, but I could consistently make it back upwind on my own, so there was no risk of drifting away. I decided to keep going solo. Climb upwind. Turn downwind. Pump. Weight on the back foot. —I lifted again. And this time, it was even longer. About ten seconds. A clear, undeniable flight. The control was still a bit shaky, but there was no doubt about it—I was flying.

An Anniversary

I’m calling it: "First Foiling Accomplishment Achieved." It wasn't perfect, and it certainly wasn't stable yet. But it wasn't just a momentary fluke, either. It was a sustained, deliberate flight. Today is a day to remember.

Harder Than It Looks

I’ve already mastered stable flight on an e-foil, so I thought, "Once I lift, I’ll be fine." But reality hit hard. Wing foiling is a different beast entirely. Getting it to lift is hard. Staying up is even harder. But today, I definitely broke through the wall.

A Day for a Toast

Today was the first day I flew. Tonight, there will definitely be a toast. Next step: stable, consistent foiling. Today was the day the game truly changed.