On Saturday mornings I work out at the gym. As you're reading this, I'm most likely doing my regular weight-lifting class, sweating through the routines that prevent my muscles from turning into the mush they long to be.

But last Saturday, now that was a glorious workout. I skipped class without an ounce of guilt. I ended up bruised, scraped, sore and aching — and ready to schedule another lesson. Last Saturday is the day I learned to surf!

I know, I know. Surfing is for teenagers. For buff beach dudes and lean, tan girls with super-blond hair.

What can I say? I crashed the party.

Learning to surf is something that's always been on my unwritten list of cool stuff I'd like to do before I die. So when I was invited to join a group lesson for about $70 with some female colleagues (yes, they were quite a bit younger), I couldn't say no.

I was nervous the night before, but so were my friends. Hurricane Irene had kicked up far out in the Atlantic, so we knew we were getting a much better surf than August has any reason to expect. I decided not to worry if I never stood up on the board; I just wanted to refrain from injuring my body in a permanent way.

But here's what happened. All six of us totally got into it. The fun factor far outweighed our fear. It was such a thrill to paddle as a wave rushed up from behind, so amazing to catch it and speed along as it crested, so exhilarating to get your feet on the board and try to find your balance, that we all quit

worrying and were won over by the sheer joy of the sport.

Seth Shepherd, who works for Florida Surf Lessons, walked us through the mechanics onshore near Jupiter's Coral Cove. He showed us the routine for popping up to our feet from a prone position, and while the process looked deceptively simple on dry land, he then had the grace to say, "I know it seems like a lot to keep in mind, but after a while it becomes natural."

Thankfully, he never said, "Here, just watch me and I'll show you how." Instead, he took turns monitoring our boards and helping us each catch our initial couple of waves, but then we all began getting the hang of it. I maneuvered myself into a squat position on just my second wave, but finding my way from there to an upright stance took a bit longer.

I must mention that between each "ride" was a nothing-short-of-heroic trip back through the breakers. Our foam-like, beginner boards wouldn't let us duck under the waves, so if you're not willing to get repeatedly smacked in the face, this isn't the sport for you.

Just who does surf? Geoffrey Schmidt, school director of Florida Surf Lessons, said his clients are 50 percent adults over the age of 24, 50 percent under. And surprise — more and more women are showing up for classes and getting into the sport.

"Surfing was perceived as a male sport some years back, but there's a major movement with women getting into it. They realize they can do it, too," he said. "The movie Blue Crush and MTV's Surf Girls show helped get the word out."

Age-wise, Geoffrey said a bell curve for his adult clients between ages 25 and 65 would show the peak at around 36 or 37. "I don't think we've taught anyone over 65," he said.

I can understand that. Mastering a physical sport is bound to become harder as the years take their toll. But the effort is worthwhile. I found it immensely satisfying to ask my body to learn a brand-new skill and then have it come through for me and deliver the goods. (Those gym workouts paid off!) I also felt grateful that the time for learning to surf hadn't passed me by.

And now that I'm such an expert, allow me one observation about surfing as a sport. Battling Mother Nature is not like battling someone on the other side of a tennis net. Maybe it's because there's nothing personal. The wave that slaps you in the face or churns you into the rocks on the ocean's floor isn't trying to score points. And neither are you. You're just channeling your energy into watching the pattern of the waves, figuring out how to keep your balance while you wait, and then making the most of the next good wave you're in position to catch.

That freedom from keeping score or considering an opponent is remarkably relaxing, which is good because I needed every ounce of physical energy I had just to stay in the water after about two hours.

But I persevered for the full three-hour lesson because once I stood up on my board, I was hooked. What a feeling! I paddled back out through the breakers again and again, hoping for yet another wave where all the right elements came together.

My euphoria mirrored that of my friends; as first-timers we were all elated, even those who didn't make it upright on their boards. We were unanimous in our newfound love for surfing.

It was only later, when we returned home for showers, that we discovered a not-so-pleasant byproduct of being churned around in the ocean for hours.

Comparing notes on Monday, it all came down to two words: embedded gravel.