I did manage to stand up twice and even got back down onto the board without falling off. But frankly, the most fun was the first run, where I just got up into a kneeling position and stayed there. Whee!
It escaped my notice that, when you surf, you have to paddle the surfboard out to where the waves are. Then you surf in. Then you paddle out. Then you surf in. Then you paddle out. It's not as bad as having to climb the mountain after you ski down it, but I ended the lesson early because my upper body told me it was going on strike.
My instructor was Uncle Billy, an extremely sun-browned person of indeterminate ethnicity. He has been surfing since the year my father was born, and will be 69 on Monday. He is in better shape than I have ever been in my entire life. He rattled off instructions with a mixture of matter-of-factness and consideration that was perfect; I felt neither intimidated nor condescended to.