Back in the Learning Zone: What E-Foiling Reminds Us About Learning
Learning in the Zone
Learning, whether on a foil or in a classroom, lives in that dynamic interplay between challenge, belief, feedback, and perseverance. It’s not a linear progression but a dance—one that requires patience, trust, and a deep respect for the process itself.
Over the past few months, I’ve been learning how to e-foil—essentially surfing on a board with a hydrofoil that lifts you above the water once you reach a certain speed. It’s thrilling, humbling, and for me has been a master class for learning. My instructors have been excellent: they’ve offered clear foundational knowledge, scaffolded each step, and given me targeted feedback to help me progress.
Like many learners, my journey has been anything but linear. Each lesson has brought moments of breakthrough and bouts of frustration. A skill that clicks one day doesn’t always transfer seamlessly to the next.
For example, during one lesson, my instructor, Laura, advised me to stop trying to lift the board and instead focus on speed and control. Once I did, something clicked—suddenly I was flying smoothly across the water. But in the next session, that learning hadn’t fully solidified. I started with several awkward falls and mounting frustration.During this lesson, Brandon was instructing– he carefully observed, offered a few corrections, and then took a different approach. He told me to go back to “planing”—keeping the board just on the surface, which still engages the foil but gives more stability. That adjustment was transformative. The concept clicked at a deeper level, and I was flying again, this time with more control.
This cycle of breakthrough, setback, recalibration, and growth reminded me vividly of what it feels like to be a young learner. As adults, we often forget the emotional rollercoaster that comes with truly learning something new. But on that board, wobbling and falling in the water, I was right back in the learner’s seat—exactly where our students live every day.
What I experienced on the water is exactly what Lev Vygotsky described in his Zone of Proximal Development (ZPD).
My instructors weren’t doing the work for me.
They weren’t leaving me to figure it out entirely alone either.
They were working in the sweet spot between what I could already do independently and what I could do with guidance.
Their scaffolding—the careful layering of knowledge, feedback, and practice—allowed me to stretch just beyond my current ability. Importantly, when my skill didn’t transfer, they backed up a step, adjusted the scaffolding, and re-anchored my understanding. This is exactly what effective teachers do for students who are struggling with a new reading strategy, a math concept, or a social-emotional skill.
Mindset, Practice, and Feedback: The Fuel for Growth
Productive struggle fuels growth most powerfully when it’s paired with the right mindset, feedback, and practice. Psychologist Carol Dweck’s research on growth mindset shows that believing in our capacity to improve fundamentally changes how we interpret those messy moments. Each time I crash on the foil, I face a choice: frustration or curiosity. Choosing curiosity keeps me engaged, turning obstacles into invitations to learn.
Learning something new is rarely linear. As Anders Ericsson’s work on deliberate practice reminds us, real progress happens in the narrow space between comfort and challenge—where attention is sharp, feedback is immediate, and every attempt is intentional. It’s not the sheer number of hours that transforms a skill but the quality and focus woven into those hours.
When I’m e-foiling, the moments that look like setbacks—those inevitable nose dives and splashdowns—are actually when learning takes root. Each fall offers information: a chance to refine my technique, adjust my balance, and better understand how the foil responds. Children experience the same thing when they grapple with a difficult concept. What looks like failure is often the brain’s way of integrating feedback and rewiring itself for the next attempt.
This is where grit, as defined by Angela Duckworth, quietly does its work. Mastery isn’t achieved in one exhilarating ride; it’s built through patient repetition, tolerance for discomfort, and a willingness to celebrate small wins—those fleeting moments of controlled flight that signal real progress, even when it’s hard to see.
Throughout this process, feedback acts as both compass and fuel. My instructors embody what David Yeager calls wise feedback: they pair high expectations with unwavering belief in my ability to meet them. Their words—“I know this is challenging,” “You’ve got this,” “Focus on this one small shift”—land differently because they combine rigor with trust. That blend sustains motivation through moments of frustration. In classrooms, this same kind of feedback can transform hesitant learners into confident risk-takers, willing to stay in the stretch zone long enough for deep, lasting growth to occur.
From Struggle to Automaticity: Launching to the Next Level
With time, focused effort, and repeated feedback, certain foundational skills begin to settle in and become automatic. In e-foiling, this is the moment when balancing, controlling speed, and engaging the foil stop demanding constant conscious attention. That automaticity isn’t the end of the learning journey—it’s the leverage point. Once the basics become second nature, new layers of complexity open up: carving tighter turns, managing faster speeds, and staying composed in choppier water. Automaticity frees up cognitive bandwidth, allowing performance to become smoother, more adaptive, and more creative.
The same principle applies in the classroom. When children achieve automaticity with fundamental skills—like decoding words or recalling math concepts—they can redirect their mental energy toward higher-order learning: comprehension, problem-solving, and critical thinking. Automaticity is what allows them to elevate their learning, moving from mechanical effort to fluid expression.
Resetting and Rehearsing: Breathwork & Visualization
Of course, the path to automaticity is filled with moments of turbulence. When I find myself rattled after a string of falls, one of my most reliable tools is breathwork. A few slow, deliberate cycles—often a cyclic sigh (two inhales through the nose, one extended exhale through the mouth)—help regulate my nervous system and bring me back to center. This reset allows me to approach the next attempt with focus instead of frustration.
Another strategy I’m bringing to my next session is visualization. I’ll mentally rehearse the components that led to my last breakthrough—steady acceleration, balanced posture, subtle shifts in weight—picturing each element with clarity and control. This isn’t wishful thinking; it’s deep cognitive rehearsal. Visualization strengthens neural pathways, primes performance, and builds confidence so that when I step back on the board, I’m better prepared to fly.
For students, these same self-regulation and visualization strategies can be transformative—whether calming before a presentation, tackling a tricky problem, or rehearsing a new skill. Breath and mental rehearsal help them return to a state where learning is possible: present, regulated, and ready.
Lessons for the Classroom
Lessons for the Classroom
Learning to e-foil has been a vivid reminder of how students experience the messy, exhilarating, non-linear process of learning:
They thrive when guided within their Zone of Proximal Development (ZPD).
They benefit from structured, deliberate practice that builds confidence and skill step by step.
They need space for setbacks to become breakthroughs, learning to regulate their emotional state as they persevere.
They respond powerfully to wise feedback that blends high expectations with deep belief in their potential.
They gain clarity and composure when they use breathwork to steady their nervous systems—especially in moments of frustration, fear, or transition.
They build confidence and accelerate growth when they use visualization to mentally rehearse skills, bridging the gap between intention and action.
Whether on the water or in the classroom, learning is less about perfection and more about progression. As educators, when we create environments that scaffold, stretch, support, and believe in students—while equipping them with tools like breathwork and visualization—we help them regulate, refocus, and ultimately discover their own capacity to “fly.”
The Brain Benefits of Being a Beginner
When adults challenge themselves to learn something new, remarkable changes occur in the brain. Dr. Andrew Huberman has highlighted how engaging in novel forms of learning as adults has profound cognitive benefits. These experiences stimulate the mid-cingulate cortex, a region involved in focus, effort, and adaptive behavior. When activated regularly, this part of the brain supports what Huberman calls “super-aging”—the preservation of cognitive flexibility, resilience, and vitality as we grow older.
In this light, stepping back into the role of a learner isn’t just good pedagogy; it’s good brain health. By challenging ourselves—whether through mastering a foil, learning a language, or developing any new skill—and pairing that challenge with intentional tools like breathwork and visualization, we keep our neural circuitry sharp, responsive, and adaptable.
Perhaps just as importantly, these experiences keep us deeply connected—not only to our students’ learning journeys but also to our own ongoing capacity for growth. They remind us that learning isn’t a phase we leave behind; it’s a lifelong practice that continually shapes who we are.
When adults approach learning with curiosity, perseverance, and presence, we don’t just become better teachers, coaches, or mentors—we become better learners ourselves. And in those moments of wobble, effort, and exhilaration, we tap back into something timeless: the feeling of being a kid discovering the world—sometimes unsteady, often breathless, but always growing.