Friday, January 28, 2011

Skiing Is Not My Strong Suit

Call me crazy but I think it's kind of ridiculous to strap wooden boards to your feet and go rocketing down an icy mountain side at pants-peeing speeds. But that's exactly what Mark loves to do with his spare time. So for the sake of  common interests I gave it a try.

This is a picture of Mark snowboarding. 

 I went to Sundance with Mark where my older brother Devin was going to teach me to ski. Devin lives in his own little world, where it's okay to pick your friends nose and bunny hills are for whimps. So he took me to the first run and on the way up he told me a little about skiing. When we finally approached the top of the ski lift I got off without tremendous inconvenience and quickly realized that I didn't know how to stop. I called back to Devin asking him  to tell me, but all he yelled was "pizza slice!" In my head I thought, I'm not hungry I need to stop! but I couldn't.  Seconds later I was hurtling down the mountain at a pace that I was incredibly uncomfortable with whilst having an anxiety attack.

I tried to slow my self by going into a powdery looking area but that only put me closer to a cliff and right in the line of a light pole. What could I do? Sitting down didn't seem like a good idea and I couldn't turn, so I decided to dive. I hoped I could just dive out of the way of the pole and then roll to a stop and everything would be fine . . . False. I dove a little too late. Luckily my head didn't hit the pole straight on, instead my shoulder took most of the hit (effectively stopping me from continuing down the mountain and probably plowing over several people in the process).

Laughter in the distance. That's all I heard when I pulled my body out of the snow. Devin was laughing at me. I was not amused. I found out later that I separated my shoulder and had to wear a sling for 2 weeks, but on the bright side, Devin was nicer to me than ever in my entire life.

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