End of Summer Reflections
As always, summer was a busy one.

Athens is surrounded by water on three sides, yet windsurfing only seems to catch people’s attention between June and August. The truth is, the most magical sessions happen off-season—on empty beaches and quiet seas.

This summer, I coached quite a few children. Many of them let me in, trusted me, and opened up. During session breaks, we talked—not just about technique, but about fear. The fear of falling into deep water. The fear of trying and not succeeding. The fear of not measuring up to another child who’s “already got it”.

We talked about the pressure they feel to compete against one another, even in training. About what it means to fail—when you climb onto the board, lift the sail, try something new… and it doesn’t work the first time. Will it ever?

Each child arrives with a different mindset, a different mix of expectations, physical skills, and motivation—some driven from within, some by what they think they should achieve. What determines who makes it through the first stage of windsurfing—sailing out and back with confidence? Is it talent? Coaching? Practice? Understanding theory?
It’s all of those. But more than anything, it’s how each child approaches failure.

Because to learn windsurfing, you have to fail. A lot.
Failure is not a sign that you’ve reached your limit. It’s how you grow.
Windsurfing isn’t something you master by just listening or watching—it’s something you learn by doing. By falling. And by wanting to get back up.

Some things my little windsurfers taught me this summer:

They need a guide.
Someone they can trust and respect. Someone to challenge them just enough—to help them stretch, not snap. Especially when fear or frustration makes them want to give up.

Right gear and conditions matter.The wrong sail, too heavy or oversized, can make the experience miserable. And not all children enjoy the challenge of 14+ knot winds.

They learn by watching—and by doing together.

Children copy what they see. Demonstration is key. So is simplifying technical concepts in ways they understand—often with the help of their peers.
In small groups, progress multiplies. One child might grasp coordination, another understands sail positioning, another explains wind direction better than I ever could. They even have their own “language”!
My role is to make sure the group dynamic stays supportive, not competitive. That no one feels held back by the fear of failing in front of others.

Belief is everything.
Every child can learn windsurfing. But if they believe they can’t—or that their abilities are fixed—they’ll stop trying.
That belief isn’t something they’re born with. It’s something we, as coaches, have to nurture.
Children need more emotional support on the water than they do on land.

What I love about coaching kids is how open they are—about their fears, their frustrations, and how they see themselves. They don’t hide it. They let you in.

And for that, I’m so grateful.
To all the little humans I met this summer—thank you. You’ve taught me just as much as I’ve taught you.

To be continued…
Evi