It’s official. My head is IMPLODING this week. I know I’m not alone on this, as this time of year is insane if you have kids (I’m convinced the teachers sit down and work out how to torture parents), insane if you work for yourself (must get work booked in before everyone takes the summer off), insane with, well, life.

And yet, I have a weekly non-negotiable, and that is - no matter how busy my life is, no matter how stressed out I am, I will find a way to still have my skateboarding lesson.

My brain currently looks like this:

Must remember to book the kids holiday clubs because they break up in 2 weeks (2 f**king weeks, yes I know. And then they’re off for 9 in total).

Must remember to chase about 50 clients before the summer so I can still pay the mortgage in September after they all disappear.

Must actually deliver 3 months of work in the next month so that I can try and take some time off to actually see my kids this summer.

Must book my son on open days for senior schools, despite the fact that he doesn’t even go to one for 18 more months, but you have to apply in September of this year. Make it make sense.

Must buy my mum a birthday present.

Must sort a plan for fathers day. For my dad, and for Ben.

Must pack because we are camping with mates this weekend. Tonight in fact. F**k.

Must get kids tickets to their bloody school disco. Must reply about x number of school activities, contribute to that teacher leaving, reply to that email about their new teacher next year. Must remember to actually look at the muted parents whatsapp groups to see what I’ve missed.

Must send back the various bits of kids school clothing that were apparently urgent, don’t fit, and now term is almost over.

Must order paint, paint back walls, paint the decking, paint bloody everything in our back garden that was falling apart, because people are renting it this summer and we are permanently half way through these house jobs as our house crumbles around our ears. Must fix lights. Must fix gate. Must fix oven. Must fix blinds. ARRRGGGHHHH.

Must call my parents and check in.

Must call several mates who are having a s**t time lately and just check that they are ok.

Must pick up HRT to keep any level of sanity through all of this madness.

The list goes on and on. And that’s before anything on board women. Or the real detail behind work. And it doesn’t reflect the day to day of just keeping your kids alive, whilst keeping a business going, and the not so small act of looking after yourself amongst it all (which actually I’m pretty religious about).

IS ANYONE ELSE DYING AMONGST LIFE ADMIN INSANITY??

I recognise I write this all from a place of privilege. Of having any work at all in this climate. Of having a house (even though it’s falling apart). Of having the option to pay for kids clubs (although at the moment they are getting whacked on a credit card until my clients pay me). Of having a partner that actually does stuff, rather than leaving 100% to me.

But it is unbelievably overwhelming on your brain. And it feels like even when something falls away from the list, the replacement ‘to do’ swoops in at the speed of f**king light. The list will be with me until I die.

And yet somehow, every Tuesday afternoon I grab my board, drive 20 minutes to a little skate cafe, and I have an hour skateboarding lesson, no matter what.

I’m no stranger to scheduling things like exercise. They are a daily act for me, as I just can’t keep it all together otherwise. I crawl out of bed at six and get exercise in, I make sure I walk too, I’m pretty on it as I know my brain falls apart if I don’t.

But this is different. Because this is scheduling something that for many, is simply a whimsical act. Not essential by any means. Childish in nature.

Maybe if I was training for a marathon people would understand it being a non-negotiable. But I’m not. I’m simply going for a totally selfish, self-indulgent hour of doing something that I love (and hopefully getting a little better at it, although I do question that sometimes). Many would question whether it is ok to see this as essential. I wholly disagree with them.

I rock up. I find out what terrifying thing I’m being asked to try that week, and I get on with it. And without fail I emerge energised. I go in with the weight of the world on my shoulders, and I emerge and that weight has totally lifted.

I am utterly convinced that these moments are not optional. They are essential. We need to let our brain slow down, to escape these to do lists. To hold our focus on simply having fun. No other agenda.

When else does your brain get to escape? When else do you just get to have that playful joy that makes you giggle with happiness? When else do you just get to feel totally and utterly silly? To have no choice but to focus?

I genuinely think it should be prescribed. It’s the same when I get in the sea. It’s the same when I strap on a snowboard.

We weren’t meant to have 50 whatsapp groups flashing at once, each with its own set of requirements, pressures and instructions in life. We weren’t meant to be at our desks all day. We weren’t meant to have this many to do lists running concurrently in our head. Mentally holding it all, mentally trying to keep the plates spinning, mentally convincing ourselves we have it ‘together’. (we don’t)

My Tuesday skateboarding session gives me that breathing room. It’s brief, but my god I need it. And I’ve never once regretted going. And somehow, everything has still got done, despite me scurrying off (and when I say scurrying, its a mental scurry - I work for myself so I’m not escaping from a workplace or a boss, but the mental pressure to just get your head down and get your work done is very real).

Someone assumed the other day that I have ADHD. Every women I know is getting diagnosed. Maybe that is 100% real for everyone, or maybe we’ve just bought into the idea that our lives should be manic all the time, and our brains should follow. Maybe the system has made us feel like it’s all on us, that our brains were made for this.

I’m pretty sure I don’t have ADHD. I wouldn’t care if I did (and I’m pretty sure my son has, hence the conversation), but despite my frenzied lifestyle I don’t fit lots of the normal indicators. I’m highly organised. I have insane levels of focus.

In reality it doesn’t matter, but I’m losing count now of the women my age, in similar life situations, who seem to have a fresh diagnosis. I’m not deriding the people who have any kind of neurodivergence (as I say, it’s pretty present in my family, with my friends, and I believe our brains all work fantastically differently, just as it should be).

But surely, just surely not 90% of my peers brains can fall under this particular diagnosis? Is there a chance that we’ve been sold a system that just doesn’t work for us here? We’ve been sold that our brains should have the mental capacity for it all? That it’s ok to feel so overloaded? That this is how it is now?

I’m questioning it. Wanting to simplify. Looking at what I can offload (ideally not the things I love and that creatively fuel me).

And in the meantime you’ll find me on my board or in the sea. Chasing down that mental freedom again. It’s pretty elusive stuff.

I’d love to hear how you’re feeling, are you drowning from the mental load too? Is your board giving you respite? Let me know below.

And if you’re in need of meeting some other women to find that respite with, don’t forget to DM me on on instagram to join our Whatsapp group, or check out our next even on Sunday 28th where we join forces with Saltdean Lido for a day of skate x sauna x swim, just a few places left here: https://www.eventbrite.com/e/1991920478773?aff=oddtdtcreator

Share

“Dear 15 year old me..who can’t afford the hobbies you want, or know girls to go do them with, struggling to come out, living for the one week a year when I got out of London and got to go to Croyde in Devon and get in the sea..one day your life will contain sentences like this from other people. Amazing”

It was in response to me sharing that Queer Surf Club were hosting a day out at The Wave, and had invited women from our community to join.

The rest of the whatsapp group were quick to cheer this woman on, and it brought an unbelievable smile to my face.

Because, controversial as it may be, I’m starting to think that some of the best mates you’ll make in life come from surprise ones you create through following your passions later in life.

Hear me out on this one (and no offence at all to the fantastic friends I have, some of whom I’ve known since I was 4. That’s a pretty long stint to put up with me).

Share

The first friends you make are when you literally don’t know anything. You bumble into each other at the age of four and it must purely be pheromones. That or they had some lego you wanted.

I have a few childhood friends still in my life, and they are truly excellent. I can pick up the phone to them if something is wrong, and they would 100% do their best to help. And we can be apart for years and come back together and life is exactly the same.

However. In reality we’ve lived about 20 lives since we first knew each other, and whilst our stupid, juvenile sense of humour might still be in tact, nearly everything else about us has changed. For most of us, we haven’t lived in proximity to each other for a lifetime, but there is a perennial tie that keeps us coming back for more.

But for me, most of these friends don’t really share any of my hobbies (and maybe they never did, or I just hadn’t really discovered what my hobbies were yet). And that means there is a connection focused on passion and joy that just isn’t there. I love catching up with these people, they will always (I hope) be in my life, but I think we’d all say that our lives have gone down different tracks. And that’s ok. But it brings me on to the next stages of friendship creation.

University and work mates. Forged within structures that mean you see each other repeatedly. Baptism of fire friendships, the good, the bad, the ugly, and the vodka redbulls. Or snake bite and blacks. Yes, I was classy (don’t get me started on MD 20/20).

I look back on this period, and whilst it was bloody fun, in reality I’m not even sure I’d grown into who I was supposed to be yet. Life was for living, working hard, playing hard, and whilst I always knew I loved the outdoors, and I spent a fair bit of time chasing down my hobbies, I just didn’t know anyone else who did them. Surfing was always me going off solo on a retreat somewhere. Or the occasional trip out to Kent from London, only to find flat waves.

Snowboarding was visiting my brother (who lived in switzerland at the time, and had mates who would teach me via chucking me down red runs, one coccyx injury at a time); or later with boyfriends who snowboarded (and were always better than I was, which made for some frustrating mountain trips). I didn’t skate at the time, but if I couldn’t get my mates to surf or snowboard, imagine me trying to get them to throw themselves down ramps.

My new mates were lovely, and I still know many of them, but they were friendships forged in circumstantial ways. We hadn’t sought each other out, we’d accidentally found each other (and yes, I’m the better for it).

And now I’m in the era of friendships based on things I love. Friends also seeking freedom. Friends who are prioritising joy. And it is bloody lovely.

This era of friendship feels entirely different. I’m just coming out of the end of the friends you make via your kids at school, kids at playgroup (an era I found hard, but I did manage to find a few keepers amongst the women who just wanted to talk about their kids. All the time.) These friendships are choiceful. If I make room for them in my busy life, it really matters.

Now I’m ready for a different kind of friend. A friend who prioritises their own joy and knows it makes them a better mum, friend, colleague. A friend who is just up for the simple act of getting outside. A friend who wants adventure. A friend who doesn’t care about looking silly. A friend who might be drowning from perimenopause & family responsibility, but has decided to fight through. A friend who has chosen to throw their pride out the window and jump on a board and fall on their ass. A friend who is likely to then see that bruise as a badge of honour and show everyone their ass with renewed sense of pride about their body. A friend who has decided what their body looks like is suddenly far less important than what it can do. A friend who joins a whatsapp group and chooses to meet up with a bunch of strangers just to roll around on concrete and chat shit.

These friends I am so here for. They are a wonderful addition to the friends I already have (who I do appreciate!), and I didn’t even know I needed them.

And when I get messages from other women who are clearly feeling the same way I am, for whom Board Women has given them access to that kind of friendship, well. This all feels kind of worth it.

Thanks for reading, have a fab weekend all

Caroline

Board Women Founder

One thing was incredibly calm in this whole experience, and that was Gilly McCarthur: climber, snowboarder, now author, but most importantly, cold water swimming expert. She led the swim, encouraging everyone to slowly dip into the lake, step by step until our shoulders were under, deep breaths all round. I’m a regular cold water swimmer, but this particular swim was so cold it took my breath away.

Gilly’s calmness emanates from her when in conversation. Her soft, lilting scottish accent helps you slow down, and be in the moment, and I can imagine this has put her in good stead in many of the sports she is passionate about, as well as the cold water courses she runs with the NHS. You get the sense that she runs at life at a different pace to the rest of us.

Her route into swimming bears this out. She experienced burn out in a corporate job in America, left her job, and moved to the mountains in Chamonix. Her crossroads moment led her to learning to snowboard in her early 30’s, alongside some of the best snowboarders of the time; and learning to climb.

When she moved back to the UK, she found the climbing industry lacking in female focus and wanted to address this gap, launching ‘Trad Festival’ in the Lake District. The festival had majority female instructors at a time when the industry average was 10%, and embraced women of all ages. Tickets used to sell out within minutes, there was such demand for an environment that showed women that they belonged in this world.

Years later she suffered a series of set backs. Her daughter was still born at 40 weeks. Six months later she had a climbing accident in Utah, breaking her back and several ribs. She had moved to Cumbria to be closer to climbing, but was unable to be part of her beloved sport. Her recovery did however lead her back to wild swimming, something she grew up with as a child.

“It was barely double digits, and I stood there, and I was like, okay, I'll just give this cold water stuff a go again as an adult. And dipped my toe, and it was like, my god, this is just so hard. And there were some women on the shore beside me that sidled up to me, and they were a little bit older, and they were all wearing these really tiny swimming costumes.

And I honestly thought they were going to put goose fat on. They were they were off, and they were swimming, and they were having this amazing time. And afterwards, I went over and I chatted to them, and they explained that in these temperatures they're just going for this connection with the water, and that your body does adapt, and it gets you get used to it.

That night, I googled ‘death by hypothermia’ and ‘do pike bite?’. The next day, buoyed with this new information, I shelved the wetsuit.”

Our conversation on this week’s podcast comes at at timely moment of Gilly’s book launch, ‘The Beauty of Cold’. A photographic guide for anyone that wants to experience the joy of cold water, it is based on the belief that being out in nature and near water more broadly will bring you back to yourself. That we all need a way to block out the noise and feel more human.

Interestingly, the book almost didn’t happen. Despite having contributed to most of the top 10 swimming books for sale in recent years, when Gilly received an email from her publisher enquiring as to her interest in writing a book, she thought it was a prank, or mistake. Lucky for us, they followed up, and now we have this beautiful tome in our midst.

My favourite passage in the book perfectly expresses how I feel about the experience of cold water swimming:

“I’m swimming, surrendering, the edges of myself and the water merge. I’m at one with the water. In this moment life falls away.”

Cold water swimming is clearly a very different experience from surfing, snowboarding or skating, but there are parallels and this paragraph, for me, conveys them perfectly.

The need to simply escape and switch your brain off. The need to not do something for attainment or performance, but simply, to be. I truly believe it is why so many female surfers or skaters I know in their 40’s also seem to have a love of cold water. Feeling the power to overcome your fears is intoxicating.

Our interview covers:

• Gilly’s route into snowboarding, climbing, and cold water swimming

• Why cold water provides the ultimate reset

• The process & story behind her new book, ‘The Beauty of Cold’

• Her climbing accident and the role of cold water in her recovery

• Finding ways to be in the moment (and off screens)

• The shift from corporate America to working in board sports

• Bringing women into extreme sports

Catch it on spotify or apple podcasts, or search Board Women on your favourite podcast platform

I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think.

Caroline x

Board Women Founder

Host: Caroline Keylock

Producer: Selma Chalabi

In reality, I was never even intending to start a podcast. I had discovered skateboarding at the age of 45 (amidst some serious peri-menopausal, ‘blow up your life’ kind of turmoil), and realised quickly none of my friends wanted to join me on this new journey. Most of my mates don’t surf or snowboard either, and it felt like time to rectify that.

And so the idea for Board Women was born. Not a podcast. A way to bring together women who wanted to try these sports, and to have a crew to support them as they fell, and got back up again. A pretty selfish pursuit in reality, I needed skate mates.

I run my own business day to day (a business and marketing consultancy called LOOK UP), I have two small kids, and very little time. And yet, this idea of Board Women kept niggling at me, and to bring it to life I thought I needed some help, and I explored someone coming on board to help me with the social media side of things. In reality that never worked out (turns out talking to the community you are building first hand is actually the secret sauce, and social media is the way to do that at scale), but in the process of finding a social media ‘do-er’, someone mentioned the idea of starting a podcast.

I knew, literally, nothing. I didn’t even really listen to podcasts. This was three years ago, and they’ve blown up completely since then, but they were still something that were the preserve of certain people I knew, but by no means utterly mainstream. I spoke to some people. Did some research. Got a brand done with a creative I knew. Found my fantastic producer, Selma Chalabi, who was ex BBC radio, and actually was kind of a podcast newbie too, but we learned together, and the sound has always been awesome.

It’s been a steep learning curve, to say the very least. At times (mostly when I sit down again in the evening, like I am now, realising that I have what could be a full-time jobs worth of stuff to crack after my kids are in bed) I’ve felt like throwing in the towel, wondering if it will ever become something that pays, or that is influential in any way.

And yet, it keeps growing. I go to new skateparks or surf spots, and people have heard of it. Guests quickly agree to come on. It’s gaining traction, and at meet ups there are genuine fan girls (and sometimes guys, which I didn’t expect).

Who knew?

So, as I come up to launching the 51st episode, I thought I’d delve deep and give you my top 5 learnings after 50 episodes. There’s actually probably 100’s of learnings I could give you, so if this post is popular, maybe I’ll follow it up with a 50 after 50. Let me know. If you’re starting out in this arena, or you’re just curious, maybe you’ll find it helpful. Enjoy.

Share

(1) You will hate your voice, get over it

The first episode I listened to was one of the most cringe-inducing experiences I’ve ever had. You can’t escape this inherent feeling of ‘I sound like a news reading wanker’, particularly for the intro sections where you’re talking to yourself. The first sentence of every episode is the hardest at the start, and even now I feel like my voice during the interview is how I actually sound, but the start is slightly higher pitched, slightly more ‘I’m on the radio, look at me’, and I find it hard to listen to.

I have managed to get over this a bit, and I try to listen back to my episodes now. I’m normally pretty happy with them, but most of that is due to the fact that I’ve worked hard for them to be led by the interviewee, for it to be about their story. I am no Stephen Bartlett (and that’s a good thing).

(2) Chase the big guests, and the interesting stories

I’ve been so lucky in getting some fantastic guests on the podcast. Lucy Adams. Kimmy Fasani. Jenny Jones. And they were just as good as I’d hoped they would be, generous with their time, down to earth, phenomenally articulate women.

At times people have come on and I won’t lie that part of their appeal has been the size of their audience that they bring with them. I’m trying not to fall into that trap again, as without fail, those drivers have led to less interesting interviews, and less growth for the podcast. More fool me.

I chase the interesting stories where I can now, and don’t stress too much about whether the women are known or not, it’s the blend of both that works (and I constantly have a list of bigger names that straddle the fame/interesting story divide, it takes time).

Which leads me to..

(3) Lead with curiosity

You can get super analytical with your podcast (and I probably need to do this more). Understand whether you’re in the right categories. Understand what your name and description convey to people (my description 100% needs an update as we’ve evolved over time). Understand if your cover art brings people in. Are they staying beyond the first few minutes. Do they stay to the end of the episode. Are they coming from where you’re marketing the podcast and what’s working?

Get curious about all of it (especially if you then want to make money out of it, as you’ll need to be super familiar with the value you bring the brands you partner with).

However, the main curiosity I feel you need is curiosity in your own subject. Are you super interested in the person you’re interviewing? What is it in particular about their story that draws you in? What works specifically for your podcast and your audience? Rabbit holes of curiosity can only make the creative output more interesting, and most importantly, keep you interested too (see the top of this article about how to keep going..)

(4) Relationships are everything

I like my podcast to sound like I’m chatting with a friend. And I’m always aiming for a sub 1 hour (ideally 35-45 minutes) interview, because I’m targeting people like me, busy women who are listening on the fly, and much as they would love to have 2 hours to delve deep, their lives don’t really allow for it.

That means preparation is your best friend. I always have a decent pre interview chat with my guests to find out more about them, ensure they are at ease when it comes to the interview itself, but most importantly so that I can think of the angle about their story that works for this specific podcast.

And then I go and research. Yes I could probably outsource this part, but for me it’s the bit that makes the interviews work. I go deep on their background, what they’ve talked about in their social posts, the causes they believe in, the quotes they’ve given. You name it, I find it, and I work super hard to make sure we can deep on specific angles to make for an interesting interview.

All of this goes to show why it is SO frustrating if a guest then just doesn’t show up, which I had recently. So much of the work has been done at that point, as that work also guides the edit later, so the frustration is real. It’s only happened once, hopefully not again.

(5) Get ahead, get a plan

At the beginning I was most definitely winging it, learning on the fly, making mistake after mistake, but most importantly, I started. 50 episodes in, and there is finally some kind of rhythm to what I do.

It’s a fortnightly output, so I have a constant schedule of contacting new guests, setting up first chats, researching those guests, recording the interview, setting up the social quotes & creating reels, setting up the marketing of the episode etc. It’s a rhythm on social that I stick to pretty rigidly, and the processes are finally getting to the point where someone can take over part of them, and AI is starting to do its work when it comes to the admin part, leaving me to focus on the creative part.

There’s so much still to do to optimise the way I do it all, it’s a constant learning process, but my most important out-take is GET AHEAD. Record episodes ahead of time, have at least a few in your back pocket, get a cycle going so that you’re not waiting at the end for assets from someone that screws up your release cycle (yes, this happened multiple times. No, it won’t happen again).

It also means that when the rest of your life goes to pot (I’m a business owner and a mother of young kids, that’s what you sign up for), your passion business doesn’t too.

50 episodes, and 5 big learnings feel like it’s barely touching the sides

Just writing this has made me realise the learnings I’ve made over this period are rife, so if you do fancy a read of the top 50 things, let me know in the comments.

Maybe my biggest learning is taking a moment to celebrate the wins and how far I’ve come in that time. When you’re reading this I’ll hopefully have been for a (potentially rainy) surf, and be tee-ing up for our next London event, so I’ll be doing just that.

And to finish, a massive thank you to all of you who have taken the time to listen. And if you haven’t yet, what are you waiting for? Get yourself to spotify or apple or your favourite podcast platform, and wrap your ears around our last episode with the epic Hannah Bailey - writer, producer, photographer and all round inspiring creative who surfs, skates and snowboards. What’s not to like?

I had my own experience of this recently in Nicaragua. I’d travelled there with my family, and we rocked up to a beach at a small town near San Juan del Sur, and I tried to hire a board. I was with my family, and my son was ribbing his dad. The guy chastised him saying “you don’t know this yet, but your dad is important. Mums are soft, Dads will teach you to be strong and tough”.

Woah.

My son luckily knows better. He explained that both parents can be tough, and supported the argument with “my mum skates and surfs and snowboards”. I’ve taught him well.

The underestimation continued on my first lesson. Before the guy had seen me surf, swim, or paddle he set off into the sea saying “this is cardio, paddling is tough, you’ll have to work really hard”. Now my surfing isn’t fantastic, but I am fit. I’ve worked out daily for as long as I can remember, and I’m probably fitter at almost 49 than I was in my 20’s (especially as I don’t really drink now). The patronisation levels were high.

I had to almost force myself back to go for a lesson, because annoyingly, some of the tips the guy gave me were really good, but the delivery of most of his chat just got my back up. I decided to take the high road, and just go about proving him wrong, and somehow over the days that followed, we managed to come to some kind of understanding that worked. But it felt like exactly that, work.

Let’s be clear, on seeing his and the other instructors with the younger girls who came for their lessons, the dynamic clearly wasn’t in effect with them.

I had a similar conversation with the woman who runs the weekly surf fit class I go to in Brighton. Marianne (ex lawyer with the BBC for 30 years, turned endurance athlete trainer) is known to be a bad ass by all of us in the class. She’s in her 60’s, is supremely fit, and she surfs and snowboards, both of which she started later in life. She is wiry, strong, and you would never look at her and see anything but someone who is incredibly physically capable.

And yet, she recently had a surf lesson in San Sebastien and her young male instructor had clearly mentally written her off. Despite her assurances that she could surf, he was trying to push her onto waves; and when a decent set finally came in, he spent half the time chatting to his mates. It made her feel like she wasn’t worth the effort, not a great vibe from the person who is supposed to be inspiring you to do more in the sea.

She has similar stories of male snowboard instructors, one of whom announced to her “you’re brave at your age” at the start of the lesson. Perfect conditions for feeling your most confident and not self-conscious. Not.

These instructors clearly don’t recognise the influence this kind of behaviour has. One lesson from someone who makes you feel small, makes you feel incapable, makes you feel like you actually are too old to do this (a voice many of us have lurking in our heads) can be enough to put someone off trying at all.

The counter is also true. One fantastic instructor can be the make or break for your relationship with a sport, particularly in the more risk based world of board sports. Marianne was lucky to have a fantastic instructor in Devon, one who got her to venture out in bigger waves than she had surfed before, gave her great technical skills in assessing the waves, and built her confidence, rather than decimate it.

Interestingly I’ve never had this experience in the skateboarding world. I’ve had a mix of instructors, many of them male, and each and every one of them has managed to Mr Miyagi me in building my confidence. They have a knack of finding the positive in the mistakes I make, of getting me to try things I never thought myself capable of, and somehow embracing scarier tricks to revisit the ones I was previously scared of; only to find myself capable of making them. Wax on, wax off.

Maybe it’s because the world of skateboarding is simply more accepting of beginners. Maybe it’s because it’s a world that embraces the misfit in us all and welcomes us in, but surfing and snowboarding could learn a thing or two, that’s for sure. And in the meantime, instructors please temper your prejudices when you’re taking someone out in the sea or slopes. That one lesson could be the difference between the next twenty years of them loving the sport, or it could be them ditching it and deciding, incorrectly, that they are indeed, too old.

I’d love to hear what you think. Have you been made to feel too old in your lessons or more widely as you’ve begun your journey into boardsports? drop me a note below.

Have a good weekend all,

Caroline x

Board Women Founder

Hannah Bailey is one of those people, and when I first started this business, her name came up again and again as someone I should interview for the podcast, initially from a mutual contact in the agency world (it turns out we both spent time at this same agency, narrowly missing each other, small world).

“I wanted to be part of working in the industry, because if I could work in that space, I could push it to other people who’d not tried [these sports], and they would get the same benefits that I found. Because I really quickly found this connection to people, to community, to nature, to outdoors, to sport. It was just so fulfilling.”

Hannah has independently carved out a pretty enviable niche in the industry, chasing down female led stories across different mediums and sports, and highlighting the people and issues that rarely get coverage. It’s led her to create films like Thrawn (featuring Lesley Mckenna) for Patagonia, Wandering with Huck, Land of Skate with Skatistan, and more recently showing at Kendal Mountain Festival, ‘A Land for Everyone’ with Lyndsey, of Neighbourhood Skate Club. The latter involved a tour of the highlands in Scotland on boards and with hiking boots.

Outside her pretty illustrious film, writing and photography career, Hannah works with Lesley to provide access to the mountains and make it feel like an accessible space for all, through the guise of ‘Wandering Workshops’.

“People feel like they don’t belong. My job is to tell them I’m a kook too. On the last one I went a bit far - we were going to hike into a glen and we were packing our packs - peopel weren’t sure if they were doing their bag right - so I said “no-one knows how to use their pack properly” and half an hour later my helmet went flying off my pack down the glen”

Hannah clearly loves mountain life in Scotland. Whether it’s trail running, snowboarding, or split boarding, she’s out there, but things have been more challenging since having kids, and like any of us who are mums, it’s a battle between doing the things that make you happy (and arguably a better mum); and feeling guilty about taking time away, from work or from family:

“I’m quite an all over the place creative. I like to dip my toe into lots of different projects all at once, and I love that. But since becoming a mum I’ve learned to compartmentalise a little bit and that’s helped me a lot. Today I need to work on this project in the time I have. Today I need to be mum and I want to have fun with her, not looking at my phone. I try to find that balance where I’m working and can be financially ok, creatively fuelled, and then I’m not working.”

I love this interview for its honesty on what it takes to be a creative in a competitive industry; for the frank discussion on feeling like an imposter, and the general upbeat nature of talking to Hannah as someone who has so much enthusiasm for her work, and life.

We cover:

• Why falling should still be fun as an adult, and we should do more of it

• Giving up a job to work in Cambodia with Tony Hawk (and him not turning up) - and how it all worked out later

• First experiences of a snowboard season in the Alps

• Opening up the industry to others, particularly women

• Documenting the women’s skate scene

• Finding your priorities as a mum (and always getting outside)

This one’s a good one! Let me know what you think & please do share if you enjoyed it.

A few bits of news before we go:

• We have our next Culture Skate event in London on Saturday June 6th - 2 hours in a private skatepark, lunch and then visiting the Southbank 50 exhibition - come join us!

• It’s episode 50 (how did that happen?) We’d love to hear from you about the podcast. Who would you love to hear from in future? What would you love us to discuss? Feel free to DM on here, or on instagram - and remember to subscribe to the podcast on your favourite platforms - Spotify here and Apple here - so you don’t miss an episode

• If you want to join our whatsapp groups for meet us - DM me on instagram. We’ve got lots going on in the south east, but we have tons of people joining from other areas of the UK, and from many different countries - so we are looking at a model with chapter leaders in different markets and locations. DM me if this is something you want to be part of.

See you next time for an interview with Gilly McArthur - cold water swimming coach and expert, snowboarder, and author of soon to be released Beauty of Cold - see you then!

Caroline x

Board Women Founder

That’s all set to change with the launch of the latest Do Lectures book, co-written by Abby and Nick, ‘Do Blue’, an uplifting guide to the power of blue, arguing (as many of us in this community would agree) that being in or near water has tremendously positive effects on our lives in a myriad of ways.

Abby isn’t a surfer, a skater or a snowboarder, and traditionally may not have found her way onto the Board Women podcast. However, she’s been instrumental in bringing women’s communities to the wave, starting the now iconic Sister Sessions, and ensuring that diversity continues to be a focus for the business with their impact strategy.

She’s also, like so many of us, a midlife woman who sought something to keep her sanity during covid, and for her dipping in cold water was the solution. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: cold water swimming is the gateway drug for so many women coming to board sports. It’s an activity that helps you realise you have the control to make your body do hard things. More on this with our interview with Gilly McCarthur in the next couple of weeks.

Abby is incredibly articulate, and just good fun, and this episode is warm, self deprecating and honest.

We cover:

• Her journey of becoming involved in The Wave, and her long-time friendship with Nick Hounsfield, The Wave’s founder

• The fractious closing of The Wave last year and how they bounced back

• Do Water and how the book came to life

• Abby’s journey into wild swimming & how it supports her day to day

• Her own connection with water & how it has helped her through grief

It’s a good one! I hope you enjoy it x

___________

Presenter: Caroline Keylock
Producer: Selma Chalabi

I met Zoe at Kendal Mountain Festival, listening to a Yeti hosted panel that she featured on, she spoke about the balance of being someone who has always chased adventure and risk, and then has to find a way to make that work as a parent. Zoe’s take on it? ‘Disaster Style Parenting’ as evidenced by the intriguing documentary series she produced on behalf of Patagonia about her own family and how they are navigating living in the outdoors lifestyle that their base in Chamonix affords them.

I listened to her talk with great interest, not least because some of her experience marries with my own - as someone who has always loved to travel and be outdoors, and then spent 3 years travelling round the world with our first child, we are continually trying to find a way to balance our own needs with those of our kids. It’s not easy.

“I think it was just like a visceral, emotional thing, where this idea of managing risk and controlling fear felt like such an awesome process before I had kids, and then when I had kids, I was just scared all the time. I would get into these situations and be like “wow, I don’t want to be here”. It was not longer enjoyable in the way it was before”

But what really intrigued me was hearing about Zoe’s journey into skateboarding in her mid 40’s, and more recently starting snowboarding. Her comfort zone is the mountains, but it doesn’t make starting something new any easier.

Her new foray into skateboarding started from her kids skateboarding, but now her husband is in on the act, and she’s found a crew locally to share her journey with. It was so refreshing for a world-acclaimed climber and guide like Zoe to echo the same fears I hear regularly from the board women community:

“There were ups and downs for the first couple of years where you’d be able to drop in, and then the next week you couldn’t. There are proper slams in the bowl in front of like teenage boys, where you just gotta suck it up and walk away and pretend you’re totally fine. But I feel like I’ve hit a groove where I”m improving and I come back at a certain level. I don’t take a ton of risk, but I have learned some stuff and feel proud of myself.

We cover:

• Zoe’s journey into living and working in the mountains

• How she became a Patagonia ambassador

• Balancing parenting & adventure

• Women’s community and beginner skateboarding

• Learning to be kind to yourself

• Navigating ageing and feeling good about yourself

Let me know what you think! See you in a couple of weeks when we have Abby Richardson, Head of Impact and Communications for The Wave; and co-author with of the latest in the Do book series, Do Blue, talking about the power of water. Make sure you subscribe to the podcast on your favourite platform so you don’t miss out x

Have a great week all

Caroline x

Board Women Founder

A working life of creativity can feel out of reach for so many of us, the type of thing that the lucky few get to do, whilst the rest of us have ‘normal jobs’. But there is another way too, and that’s to just go out and create, and see if that can somehow become your job over time. Clare Ventham is one of those people.

I went to the premiere of ‘Hotpipe Hillbillies’ in Brighton, UK, the other week - a film about a motley crew of surfers in my local surf spot, The Hotpipes, so named because it’s next to a big industrial pipe in the sea (The Shitpipes are its second most used name). Sounds idyllic? Not so much, but it has an extremely loyal community and people come to love it. Even the conditions are often pretty poor, but the community are so grateful for a good day it somehow makes it even more magical.

The premiere really brought this sentiment to light. Filled with locals I’ve only previously glimpsed in wetsuits, the laughter and warmth in the room was very real, because the film captured these emotions about our local waves so brilliantly.

The film was followed by a panel hosted by Matt Barr, of interviewing the producer, Clare, director Stephanie Hubbard and Director of Photography Alex Boundry. The discussion quickly brought to light that this was infact Clare’s first film experience, and her traditional ‘day job’ is as a SEN teacher. I thought this was incredibly inspiring, and here we are, one podcast interview later.

Clare has clearly had a fire lit inside her since the experience (despite it being a harrowing 2 years that coincided with the team balancing their day jobs, Clare being pregnant for the second time and much more); and is keen to now translate this experience to new films and storytelling (one of which we are partnering on which is incredibly exciting).

We talk about:

• The origination for the film & how it connected her to the surf community when she couldn’t surf (she was pregnant when the plans began)

• The importance of inclusivity in the sea

• The transition from teacher to producer

• Her first surf experience (and why it was a shocker)

• Motherhood & surfing and the supportive mates who make it happen

• Hobbies like sea fishing & why surfing & fishing both provide a reset

• Having a kick ass mum as a role model

It’s a lovely interview, showing that you can pursue any creative goal you choose, as long as you’re willing to work hard at it.

I hope you enjoy it, let me know what you think,

Caroline x

Board Women Founder

P.S Listen on Spotify here and Apple here

Events News:

In other news, we are hosting our next Culture Skate event on March 21st in London. We’ve run a few of these now, and they are always epic, think:

• 2 hours private hire of Hop Kingdom (no more than 15 of us)

• Tips from the amazing Sarah at YellowHat Skateboard School

• Lunch at Vinegar Yard (food cost not included)

• Exhibition tickets (we are heading to MOCO to see their contemporary exhibition)

• An amazing crew of women / non binary individuals to cheer you on for the day!

Come join us! Tickets are here, but they will go fast:

Bella epitomises that lifestyle. She is a surf photographer, producer, editor, a multi-lane creative who is now most well known for being the first female editor of Wavelength magazine. Her first issue was in February 2025, putting in six months of hard graft, an uphill learning curve for someone who hadn’t done the role of editor before. She didn’t let her lack of experience deter her from going in hard on the first issue, and she’s continued in the same vein since.

“It needs to have really strong representation of women and nature and issues. I was like, I’m not fussed about just having a magazine about people riding cool waves, that’s not interesting to me. And so I thought I was like, fudge it, I’m just going to go as deep into controversial stuff as I can. And if it doesn’t go well, and I don’t get to do the next magazine, at least I’ve got the creative license of this one.”

Supporting women in the surfing space isn’t new to Bella, she saw the issue of a lack of visibility of women at all levels of surfing early on, and she’s sought to re-address the balance through her photography and beyond (and if you take a listen to the interview, there’s a reveal about a big leap she’s made at the magazine which will become public shortly).

We talk about this inequality and much more in the interview:

• Bella’s journey into surfing & finding her people

• Getting her break into publishing

• Burning out & talking openly about mental health

• Developing boundaries as a freelance creative

• Living an unconventional life and her future plans

Bella is truly inspirational, but one of the things I like most about this interview is that she shows the counter side of the perfection that we so often see on Instagram:

“Every time someone said to me, you’re living the dream, it was like someone punched me in the stomach. Obviously that’s what it looks like on Instagram. When you’re not feeling like that, you’re just like ‘why? why does someone think I’m living the dream?’ And then you feel guilty, because you feel like you should be grateful that everyone’s allowed to be having a great life and a bad one at the same time. And so I said, you know, I’m just going to be really honest on Instagram. And every time I am honest, I get messages from other people saying ‘thanks so much for putting this up, I’m also feeling really shit about myself, and this really helped”

It’s the kind of honesty and transparency that’s pretty rare in this space, so I respect that. She also talks about the financial compromise working in creative roles in this industry involves (aren’t the most aspirational creative roles often this way?).

I hope you enjoy this one!

Caroline x

Board Women Founder

Presenter: Caroline Keylock

Producer: Selma Chalabi

Lindsey is an ex dancer, turned physiotherapist, turned part-time fashion influencer, turned full-time (very successful) fashion influencer. And then everything changed on one retreat, a retreat she’d gone on to get over a relationship ending, and a new love emerged: surfing.

I think we all recognise that feeling when we first fall in love with a board sport. It’s genuinely like meeting someone new, you can’t get enough of them, they take up your every thought, you re-organise your life around that new relationship. And so it was for Lindsey as she began to travel around the world to learn to surf in new destinations, bringing her significant instagram audience on the journey with her.

That new feeling of love with the sport ended up being the essence of her business, Marnie Rays, a surf lifestyle brand that hosts retreats all around the world, bringing women on that same journey into the sport (albeit in fairly luxurious surrounds).

“I think the collective thing that people search for is freedom. It’s like a tap out of normal life into something and into a space where they can be free and be themselves and nobody knows. you, so you can just show up exactly as you are and be accepted exactly as you are in that moment. That’s a really special thing that we don’t often get in normal life”

Everything about Lindsey looks glamorous, effortless, but what I love about this interview is that she is super self deprecating, and actually a closer look her instagram feed quickly shows that she is seeking a more realistic representation of this surfing journey so many of us find ourselves on.

We cover:

• Lindsey’s multi-lane career landing in the world of surfing

• The founding journey of Marnie Rays

• Why surfing is such a release for mid-life women

• Moving to cornwall and hosting global retreats

• The importance of positive self-talk

• Surfing and anxiety and being humbled by the ocean

I hope you enjoy this one! Let me know what you think!

____________

Producer: Selma Chalabi

Presenter: Caroline Keylock

Whilst Inessa’s films on Instagram show the beautiful waters of Hawaii, she’s actually originally from Ukraine, an unlikely surf girl destination. What feels more unlikely is that she spent 8 years in Hawaii before turning to surfing, an event that came about after she was divorced and seeking new freedoms.

Sometimes all it takes is the suggestion by a friend to try something new, and barriers that seemed to be there before disappear. Inessa wasn’t someone who grew up being active, and it was only later in life that she discovered things like hiking and cycling, which were her were the access points to thinking that she could give surfing a go.

She didn’t find it easy, but she stuck with it, describing it as ‘opening up her life’. She started a facebook group with Lisa, as a way to seek out people who were surfers in the same age bracket, and the two were surprised that it grew at pace. The group is closed, if you’re not 50 you’re not coming in, but the Instagram account @sassysilversurfers has acted as a route for surfers who aspire to be surfing in their 50’s, but who aren’t there quite yet, to find a route into the community.

Inessa is now hell bent on demonstrating that women in their 50’s and beyond an do anything they want, through the lens of the inspiring stories of the women in the community.

We cover:

• The story of Sassy Silver Surfers coming to life

• Why prioritising yourself is an essential practice

• Surfing post Divorce

• Why 50+ women are so surfing obsessed

• Belonging in the line-up

I hope you enjoy this one! Let me know what you think in the comments x

Producer: Selma Chalabi

Presenter: Caroline Keylock

I LOVE fitness, so apologies for being a total geek in this area. I am that annoying person who crawls out of bed daily at 6 and does some type of movement, from weights to running, to barre, to yoga, to swimming. Unless I’m getting to surf regularly, I don’t regard my board sports activities as my main fitness, I embrace fitness to keep me doing these sports, to feel great, and to prevent getting injured.

I recognise this kind of enthusiasm isn’t for everyone (my family think I’m a bit insane), but I do think training to be able to do the sports you love, for as long as you want, injury free, is a pretty strong incentive to focus on your fitness.

However, the advice you’re given is often conflicting, and it’s hard to know what really works to support your body for these sports. We got 3 experts together to help you do just that (and apologies to our experts, as we filmed this a little while ago at one of our live online sessions, but we haven’t put it out to the world before now). All of them are board sports enthusiasts themselves, and they tailored their advice to the worlds of skateboarding, snowboarding and surfing for you.

Meet Our Experts

Emily from @moceanfit

Emily wants to get more women moving, adventuring, playing and learning, and giving new sports a go. A surfer, skateboarder and snowboarder, at 40 Emily understands what it means to embrace these sports later in life. She’s a trained fitness instructor, mobility coach and breathing practitioner, and it’s all tailored to the sports we love. She also has some seriously enviable mountain views from her new home in switzerland, where she moved to be nearer to the mountains.

Lizzie from @lizziebirdmoves

Lizzie is an Osteopath, Movement Specialist and author of the book ‘Move’. A keen water woman, after breaking her knee in 7 places during Covid, and being unable to access the operation she needed, she learned how to self rehabilitate her injury and learnt a huge amount in the process.

Louise from @louise_beyondthemat

Louise is a fantastically calming and energising yoga teacher (helped by the french accent), and she used to run the yoga at our Board Women events. She’s also a qualified surf instructor, and more recent convert to skating and snowboarding. She tailors her yoga practice to the needs of all three sports, setting you up to be strong, flexible and recover well. Since this session she’s moved her life to the beautiful coast of New Zealand, surfing and teaching yoga and pilates (yes we hate her sometimes).

The format: an interactive session

The session was a 90 minute interactive session, with movement demonstrations and Q&A with each of the experts. So, grab your kit, and a yoga mat and get ready to find the secrets of staying fit and injury fee for the board sports you love!

P.S This isn’t a high production film as it was a live online event, and we were all in our lounges taking part, but the advice is still brilliant! If you like this kind of content, let us know and we’ll bring you more and think about hiring a studio.

The first woman to stand up paddle from coast to coast in the UK, Jo first came on the Board Women podcast two years ago, talking about how this challenge had transformed her life at a time when she needed it most. She described periods of being on the bathroom floor crying, her relationship having ended, and how paddle boarding had brought her joy, challenge and a new found confidence, which she later applied to learning to skateboard in her late 50’s.

Two years later, Jo’s coast to coast challenge has proved instrumental in changing her entire existence. She is now a 3 x author, having released two SUP guides, but more recently launching her book ‘Adventures on The Water: the Power of Paddleboarding to Change Lives’.

It’s a collection of stories from people talking about their relationship with Paddleboarding and the water more generally, and it spans from aspirational adventures like Brendon Prince navigating the entire British coastline, to Caz Dawson’s amazon expedition, to Karthy Marston’s SUP yoga classes.

Jo has also released short films, the latest one having debuted at Kendal Mountain Festival, ‘Skinny’ charting her first experience of skinny dipping outdoors, in her sixties.

Whether planned or not, Jo has become the poster child of embracing joy in later life, and a key theme to our conversation is the need for more positive stories of this chapter. The interview covers:

• The life changing influence of her adventure

• The story behind her new book

• Why taking care of yourself in menopause is essential

• The need for a more positive view of our next chapter

• Why more accessible role models are important

• Skinny Dipping in your 60’s (and being on the big screen naked)

• Finding freedom in the idea that no-one thinks about you

Jo also talks about two amazing women that we’ve been lucky enough to interview before on the show - Gemma Palmer Dighton, and Sam Metcalfe, so make sure to take a listen if you haven’t heard their interviews.

I hope you enjoy this re-visit of one of my favourite board women as much as I did. Listen on your favourite podcast platforms here for Spotify and here for iPlayer. Let me know what you think!

Caroline x

Board Women Founder

However, more recently Eliza has become known for covering her own journey into the world of skateboarding, and translating some of that analysis of gender barriers to this new space. I’ve really enjoyed following her content about visiting new parks for the first time, and highlighting some of the internal narrative we all have that can, at times, get in our way.

What I didn’t know was that there had been a blip in Eliza’s journey. She had been called out by someone who was a well known male figure in the skateboarding scene, who stitched one of her social films, and eviscerated her in the process. The content went viral, but not only did it affect her in the online space, it started to creep into the real world.

It resulted in Eliza beginning to question whether she should create this type of content at all. In some ways it positively reframed her relationship with the sport, and rather than professionalising her journey, running events and creating content, she embraced the pure joy of the journey. However, it’s clear the impact is still relatively raw, and it’s frustrating that anyone has to deal with this kind of harassment online.

We cover this (the first time she’s spoken about it online) and so much more:

• Her journey into skateboarding (and more recently surfing)

• Finding a more mindful relationship with skateboarding

• The journey of building Cheer Up Luv

• Photographic Essays with collective Transkaters London

• Developing positive self talk and your own journey of progression

Eliza is super self deprecating, but I really recommend her skateboarding content when it does appear, it’s doing a great job of breaking down barriers in this space. Her social accounts are below if you want to find out more, as are the links to listening on your platform of choice.

—--------

Host: Caroline Keylock

Producer: Selma Chalabi

Board Women

We are rewriting the narrative of what women in midlife and beyond are capable of, all through the lens of board sports (skate, surf and snow)

https://www.instagram.com/elizahatch/?hl=en

https://www.instagram.com/cheerupluv/?hl=en

Despite all of that, it’s her role as a vocal ambassador for women in the sport that really stands out for me. She has created events and platforms to accelerate women in snowboarding, but that focus peaked in the last year with the release of her film, ‘Butterfly in a Blizzard’.

Initially created to chart her journey into motherhood as a professional snow athlete, the film resulted in covering five years of Kimmy’s life as she navigates the birth of her first child, the death of her mother, childhood trauma that came to the fore as she embarked on motherhood herself; and later (as if this wasn’t all enough), advanced breast cancer resulting in a double mastectomy.

It’s a film that makes you question just how much one person is capable of overcoming, but what really connected with me was that it is the most honest portrayal of navigating parenting as working parents that I’ve seen on screen. Kimmy is articulate and humble, and I loved talking with her.

In this episode we cover:

• Being at the peak of her career and finding out she was pregnant

• Choosing to stand up to sponsors to ensure they supported her contractually

• Deciding to publicly portray the real story of parenthood + being a professional athlete

• The film evolving to cover more than they ever expected as a family

• Why she chose an all female crew to bring the film to life

• Navigating cancer & family & choosing to come back to snowboarding

And so much more. This one is searingly honest, and it sucker punched me more than once as it chimed with my own experiences of parenthood, I hope you enjoy it.

—--------

Host: Caroline Keylock

Producer: Selma Chalabi

Board Women

We are rewriting the narrative of what women in midlife and beyond are capable of, all through the lens of board sports (skate, surf and snow)

Find more on Kimmy here: https://www.instagram.com/kimmyfasani/

Watch the film here: https://www.butterflyinablizzard.com/

They had me at the soundtrack, the brilliant ‘Violet’ from Hole a once forgotten song of my youth, the heady days where Courtney Cox and Kurt Cobain were the real King and Queen for everyone I knew. We would head to a local club on a Tuesday night called Club Art, buy pints for £1, and spend the evening head banging on the dance floor.

More than that, the programme brings to light the feeling that we are invisible in mid life. Studies show anywhere from 40-70% of women feel this way as they age. And I can relate. About two weeks ago, I made what I thought was quite a drastic change to my appearance. I chopped half my hair off. I’ve had super long hair for about 12 years, and so it felt like a big deal.

And no-one noticed.

My husband knew I was getting my hair chopped, and made the comment ‘it doesn’t really look that different from the front’ (spoiler: it used to be past my boobs, and now stops at my collar bones..and this was said to assuage my sadness because I wasn’t sure I liked the end result). My business partner (male) self admitted that perhaps he was a stereotype, but genuinely asked what the difference was when I said I’d had a chop. I saw numerous clients over the two weeks who I’ve worked with for ages, and again, nothing. I saw family at the weekend and no-one batted an eyelid.

This might have sent me into a death spiral of fully feeling my 48 year old self. No longer worth noticing.

Except.

What if this cloak of invincibility I find myself with is actually a superpower?

Hear me out.

There’s a freedom in the thought that no-one really notices what you’re up to.

Of course the concept of women becoming invincible as they age, in the workplace, at home, with their loved ones, is a serious one, and it’s one we need to address in society. More respect for experience, and a re-writing of the narrative of ageing to one that matches the reality: older women are badass.

They can be beautiful. They’ve seen it all. Most of my peers look better now than they did in their 20’s having come into their own in their style and understanding what works for them.

But on the flip side, many women I know my age, myself included, have spent years people pleasing, showing up for others before ourselves. Which means we are painfully aware of others opinions. And this is the biggest block I know to joy.

We worry about what others think when we step outside their definition of us. We worry we won’t be good at something.We worry we’re too old to try, because someone else’s perception of what is acceptable for our age holds us back.

Well, worry no more. It turns out no-one will notice.

It’s time for our fuck-it era.

So we have the freedom of invincibility, what exactly are you going to do with it? My first advice is clearly going to be, jump on a board.

Ever dreamt of getting on a piece of wood with four wheels? Now is your time.

Ever dreamt of cruising those waves? Now is your time.

Ever dreamt of carving that mountain? Now is your time.

Because if anything put two fingers up at society’s expectations of what women can or should be doing in their 40’s, 50’s and beyond, it’s embracing these sports. Sports with sub cultures that have been inherently male, young, and centred around risk and adventure.

And that’s the very reason we should be doing it. Without fear or abandon. Without worrying what people think.

Share

Invincibility disappears when we find our crew.

The brilliant thing about overcoming what people think of you, and embracing these sports is that they make you feel seen again. The skate community in particular is one of the most accepting I’ve experienced (but my surf and snowboard crews make me feel the same). Meet ups welcome people from all backgrounds, no-one cares what you do for a living, where you grew up, what you’re into.

We come together around one belief. That skateboarding makes us feel great. Even if we’re terrible. Even if we aren’t improving at the rate we’d like. We cheer each other on. Bang our boards when someone makes a trick.

We feel seen. By people who share our passions. And that is a different superpower altogether.

Have a good week all,

Caroline x

Board Women Founder

The last thought is the killer. I have no place here. I don’t belong, and I never will.

WOW. I would literally never talk to someone else like that, but that little thought process goes through my head in the space of 30 seconds when I’m not progressing in board sports how I would like to.

Last week that experience came to light again in my surf journey. I’m relatively recent in my return to the sport after my wrist break (not surfing, snowboarding this time) earlier this year, and it feels like I’m starting over. I was lucky enough to spend a week in Portugal, near sunny Sagres, with my family, and despite being the only surfer amongst us (although my plan for them to become a surfing family is in full effect) they indulged my passion and we tried to find a surf spot most days on the trip.

It all started off pretty well. They did lessons, I surfed out back, some good, some bad, lots of fun was had by all. And then big swell hit the west coast, lighting up the south coast for a change, and whilst conditions were fantastic for some surfers, they weren’t exactly fulfilling my ‘baby wave’ criteria I was looking for.

But, nothing ventured, nothing gained, and I’ve surfed bigger waves prior to my break, so out I paddled. After some significant effort, I found myself out back, gave my nervous system a chance to calm down after finding my way past some pretty big waves, and then thought ‘WTAF do I do now’. Because, clearly, getting out there is just half the battle, but then you’ve got to surf it back in. And it’s busy, etiquette seems to have gone out of the window, and everyone’s taking off on everything.

After letting a fair few go past, feeling quite literally, out of my depth, I decided to go for one that looked doable. I take off, and would have been successful, but guys either side of me decided to do the same just after me, both crashed, and whilst tumbling under the water, I felt their boards whack me in the face and the leg.

Luckily under water I generally feel pretty calm, so I sorted myself out, caught a wave back in to my family and checked I wasn’t too damaged. A bit of a fat lip and an eggy lump on my leg (now seriously attractive) but I was ok. I didn’t want to end it that way, so I went out to the mid section and caught a couple before it got dark and that was that.

Share

Or so I thought. Then the negative self talk set in. I’m never going to be any good at this. How have I been doing this for so long and yet I still feel like a beginner? How will I ever get any good if I can’t do it consistently? Do I even belong here?

And so it goes. On repeat. The ability I have to tear down my own self esteem is pretty spectacular, and its got worse as I’ve aged.

And so, I find myself the next day, seeking out a smaller set of waves at a different beach, but this time it’s a waiting game. So many of us, sat out in the sea, each eagerly wanting to catch these baby waves when they do appear. But my confidence is a little shot, and the sea is filled with glamorous younger women who crucially, can actually surf well. I watch them glide from the small point break emerging near the rocks, making their way up and down their boards, lithe bodies popping up effortlessly, and again I think the same. I’m not sure that’s ever going to be me.

It stops me being in the right position, or as close to the action as I should be. I’m feeling in the way, and the waves on the shoulder have so little power they are almost impossible to catch. It becomes one of the most frustrating surfing sessions I’ve had, endlessly paddling for waves that can’t quite do the job, and not feeling like I deserve to be in the right position, incase I can’t catch it.

I go back to the beach after hours in the water, deflated, snappy with my family, despite them being utterly distant from being the cause of my frustration.

Segway to the last day of my trip. I’m determined to get one last good surf in, one that will remind me that I can actually surf fairly decently given the right conditions, that I’m just getting my timing and judgement back, that this is all supposed to be fun after all. It’s the last day of my family’s holiday, and I (shamefully in hindsight) drag them to multiple beaches hunting down the right conditions. The swell is big in many places, so we hit the usual suspects that might be smaller, and in contrast, they have next to nothing going on. There’s no happy medium, but eventually we settle on heading to Beliche, a pretty cove that looks like it has a break I can actually surf. At this point the kids are frustrated, hungry, so they decide to drop me off so I can surf and then we can all hook up after.

I get set up, head in, and it suddenly gets MASSIVE. I kid you not, two minutes after I’m in the water, the waves are way overhead, I just about make it out back and genuinely am wondering how I’m going to make it out of this ok. I spend a decent amount of time tumble turning under waves. More time simply trying to get out back, eskimo turning endlessly and getting crashed back to shore. I try three times in total, giving myself breaks on the beach, and heading back in, frustrated with my fear and not wanting this to be the last surf experience of my holiday.

I give up eventually, but can’t even get hold of my family because I have no phone signal, so I sit on my board, and the negative self talk begins again.

The irony is, I look back on my week, and I realise it’s not that negative at all. At the start I had some lovely waves, and my kids and husband were enjoying surfing (a big win). I paddled out in some pretty big surf and I survived. I practiced eskimo rolls, something I’ve never done that much of, and actually I wasn’t that bad at them, and it made my paddling out feel a lot more manageable. I’m pretty convinced I can still surf ok, it’s just fuelled me to get more time in the water and get my timings and technique better.

But what I do need to get to the bottom of is how I talk to myself in these situations. I’m sure it stems from never being the kid who was brilliant at sports. I was always OK at everything, and I always worked my ass off. I loved staying fit, but I wasn’t the girl who was good at gymnastics, or felt like I had control of my body. As I’ve got older, the fitness part has stayed, I’m outdoorsy as hell, and I love feeling strong and capable. But I’ve never seen myself as that girl who has balance. Who has that kind of finesse that these sports demand. The image of the surfer girl, the skater girl, the snowboarding girl just don’t seem to fit the image I have of myself in my head.

But maybe, just maybe, that’s ok? Maybe that’s why I’m digging into these sports so hard as I near the age of 50? Maybe it’s time to tell myself I can be whatever the hell I want to be, I just need to work at it, and it doesn’t have to look like the cali-sun streaked version of these sports that I’ve grown up with, and is still perpetuated in the media?

Maybe, just maybe, I just need to be a board woman. And that can look any way I choose. See you back in the ocean, I’ll be the one out back working out which wave I can ride in without killing myself, and I’m pretty happy with that x

I’d love to hear about your experiences of self talk - let me know what you think below - can you make yours positive? Has it got worse as you’ve got older?

We are socially pre conditioned to glide along like swans, while endlessly kicking beneath the surface. Anything else feels like failure.

And it fundamentally holds us back. This quote from really struck me this week:

“If you can look back at who you were three years ago and feel nothing but comfortable recognition, you’ve stopped moving. The absence of embarrassment is not evidence of wisdom. It’s evidence of stagnation we’ve been calling consistency”

Stepfanie Tyler talks in her piece about the power of ‘cringe’ and how important it is to see that feeling as part of the process. But most of us feel deeply uncomfortable about that feeling, and it needs to change.

Two other events this week brought this quote to life.

The first was a woman new to our Board Women whatsapp group, talking about her journey into skating, wanting to find places to skate and practice. My local area has notoriously horrible ground to practice skating on (no smooth seaside prom here, it’s like gravel), and so my suggestion was actually to head to the skate park (just go early). Her reaction? I’m not ready for that yet, not until I’ve had some practice.

This marries with nearly every beginner I’ve seen come into our sessions. They apologise for their lack of prowess before they even begin. “I don’t have any balance”. “I haven’t been doing this long”. “I’ve had a big time out and I’m finding my feet again”. We are so in fear of judgement that we’ve talked ourselves out of succeeding before we’ve even begun. I’ve never yet heard a male beginner do the same thing.

Even worse, I have friends who won’t come and try a board sport because they’re out of practice. They talk about getting fit and having some practice before they come out to a surf session. You know what would be really good practice? Surfing! But we talk ourselves out of it, because we don’t deem ourselves to be good enough, not good enough to be a beginner (?). Does it make logical sense? Absolutely not. But it’s a common trait in so many of us late starters to these sports, unsure of whether we’ll be accepted, unsure of whether we can perform, unsure of whether we have a right to be here.

Share

The second event was my wonderful Monday night interviewing the great Kimmy Fasani. Yes, that Kimmy - icon of the snowboarding world, and producer of the film Butterfly in a Blizzard, a film that set out to chart the journey of a professional athlete new to motherhood, but diverted due to a series of real life events (childhood trauma, parental loss, cancer, sickness of her child - you name it, this woman has been through an unimaginable amount).

There’s a scene in the film where Kimmy has come back to a Burton sponsored shoot for the first time after having kids. The trip involves her being on a boat with her family & crew in Svalgard, sailing to spots where they can climb mountains and snowboard back down again. The team are climbing up, you’re struck by the beauty of the scene, and then the voice over from Kimmy reveals that she has shit herself in her trousers on the way up.

Yes you read that correctly, she shit herself. An unavoidable post pregnancy symptom, yet she tells no-one. She continues to climb, and then snowboards down, and has to find a way to change her only pair of snowboarding trousers and make them smell ok again, whilst the crew are milling around the crowded space. And all the while, she smiles. No-one has a clue what has gone on.

In the podcast we are laughing about this story, and comparing notes about the many side effects of pregnancy (and let’s face it, life) that we don’t tell even our life partners, for fear of not being the perfect version of ourselves that we’ve manufactured. Heaven forbid that they realise the full, devastating physical effects of what we have gone through. Piles? yep. The occasional wetting of your pants because you can’t quite get to the loo in time? yep. Cracked nipples? yep. All of that and more.

We’re laughing in our conversation, because it’s so physical, it’s so gruesome, it’s so real, that it’s depressingly funny. But it’s not funny, is it? Why have we set ourselves up in this way? To feel that we’re not going to be accepted in the warts and all version of ourselves? I for one, am a little over it.

So how does this apply to our respective journeys in the world of board sports? To navigating being beginners in worlds that celebrate the impossible skills of the very few?

Well, at the very least, we start! Not coming to a session, not trying, because we haven’t got the skills yet belies the very point.

Everyone was a beginner once. In everything in life.

It’s the central thought we have to come back to. We don’t have to be good to start. We don’t actually have to be good at any point (if we’re enjoying it). If you’re starting one of these sports (or anything new and a little more daring) in mid life, you’re already ahead, because most wouldn’t even consider it.

Stop holding out for being perfect. How boring would life be if that’s our filter for anything we try? Surely life’s thrills lie in the messiness, in the mess ups, and as we always say, in the falling.

Come fall with us, it’s fun, I promise x

House? tick (by the sea, I am genuinely lucky on that one). Supportive Partner? tick. Beautiful kids? tick. Run my own business? tick.

On paper I am seriously lucky (and I recognise that privilege for anyone reading this thinking ‘how self centred is she’, especially given current world events). So why, like so many women of my age, do I feel so dissatisfied at times? Were we sold something that just doesn’t quite deliver? And if that model is defunct, what are we seeking instead?

I propose a definition of success that is far more bound up with spontaneity, with joy, with child like adventure. A big two fingers up at the aspirations we were taught to have, and the embracing of risk to feel alive again. Are you with me? Let me break it down.

When progression dies, so do we. Reaching the end goal is somehow dispiriting. Having it all can feel like having nothing.

If you were born in the 70’s, you were born in the era of ‘what do you want to be when you grow up’, bound up in the very clear perception that you would have one job, and that would be your life. Marriage, kids, they were all connected to that point of view: you work hard, you have a family, you retire and finally enjoy life.

It meant that my 20’s were firmly about having fun and my career. Work hard, play hard. My 30’s were still about those things, but having a partner suddenly seemed to be on the agenda too. By my late 30’s I was late to the party when it came to having kids, but I found myself on that ride too (I wasn’t forced by any stretch, but it was also never something I saw as being on the cards). In my 40’s we spent 3 years travelling and working around the world, kids in tow, and it was the happiest and most free I’ve felt.

Through all of these stages there was a constant goal that you were chasing. A feeling of progression, a supposed clarity on ‘what’s next’.

Literally none of those goals make as much sense in the world we find ourselves in (aside from the travel, that always makes sense to me, but it’s harder to do now financially). Buying a house is out of so many people’s reach (and when you have one it’s a money pit that doesn’t give back). Marriage is increasingly questioned as the end aspiration (and if you’re like me, we are now in the era of multiple divorces and co-parenting, luckily not me personally). We were the generation that spoke out for the first time about the numerous downsides of having kids, a streak of honesty that accompanied a rise in social media. It means that most of my younger friends have no interest in having kids at all, we’ve officially put them off.

We find ourselves having achieved these goals we were brought up to believe in, and now there’s a collective cry of “WTAF is next?”

Share

Having it all means thinking about it all, and man, our brains are tired. Life jenga has literally given us brain rot.

I spend my life trying to escape whatsapps (which is ironic given I’m about to start one for Board Women, but that is pure joy, which is an altogether different thing).

Parent group whatsapps telling me I’ve got to remember £1 and no uniform for the next day. School whatsapps directing me to the new school app which directs me to a different app altogether to pay for the multitude of school trips in the lead up to Christmas. Work whatsapps with communities of people all trying to hustle to get work in a tough market. Family whatsapps with updates on what everyone’s kids have got up to, and attempts to find time in the year to catch up.

It is truly endless. Add a full day of being on a laptop, and a social media habit on top, and it’s no wonder our brains are fried. I read a book over the summer called ‘The Mental Load Diaries’ by Cat Sim’s, talking about why women in families tend to carry the load for everything. Spoiler: it’s not all men’s fault by any stretch. It’s also because we’ve been brought up to expect that we carry so much, we almost demand it, lean into it. The perfect house, the perfect life, we’ve bought into a narrative of success that we don’t know how to escape, and we’re drowning.

However, there is hope in sight. I’m watching people drop out of this treadmill, one by one. Friends are ditching social media, or becoming almost uncontactable on whatsapp. Others are walking away from big careers to more hands on (far lower paying) roles that keep them close to what they love. The focus for many has been on bringing down their living expenses in any way they humanly can to give them choice, and ultimately freedom.

Freedom has become the new currency, and I am absolutely here for it.

Board sports are providing the mental escape that our generation is crying out for: freedom through flow

I can have had the shittiest day and if I head out for a surf, or a skate, my mood is transformed. The sea in general does a similar job, but it’s more a case of working through a problem, rather than literally switching my brain off for a couple of hours. If you’re dropping in, or navigating a break, you can’t think about anything else. That is both enticing and addictive if you’re a woman in midlife desperately trying to escape the to do list.

Women all over the world are picking up boards. Surf, skate and snowboarding groups are emerging in every country, filled with women deciding that they want to lean into the kind of joy and adventure they had as kids, that their life needs, no, deserves that feeling at its centre. The Board Women community alone has almost 4,000 women spread across more than 20 countries in it.

Escaping the brain jenga makes you better at every other area of your life. Filling my cup in this way makes me a far better mum (less snappy, less frustrated), partner, colleague, person. That sense of ‘WTAF is this all about’ seems to dissipate when I get on a board. I’m not even very good at it, but in some ways these sports reward me to an even greater degree, because the learning curve of a beginner is steep. There’s always something more to reach for.

So this is my cry for a new measure of success. One with spontaneity, joy, and freedom at its heart.

We have so many plans afoot as a family to achieve this goal, not least the fact that our house is up for sale, as we experiment living in some different places with our kids, unshackled by some of the financial responsibility we have now.

But as I turn 48 this weekend, alongside the appreciation I do feel every year, that I am lucky to have my kids and my partner, lucky to have somewhere to live, to have a good life - it will 100% feature some time on a board to feel that joy and freedom, even if it’s just a taste of it. I hope you get to do the same.

Subscribe now