February 11, 2012
COMPLETED! (kinda)
Photo Credit: Snowshoe Mountain Resort
I can’t remember everything I put on my original list back in high school but I do remember that “Learn to ski” was featured prominently. At that point in my life, it was one of the more ambitious and adventurous goals I planned for myself. Funny to think now that I’ve done so much more than the 16-year-old version of myself could have even ever dreamed of.
In the weeks leading up to my big ski trip, as I told people about my plans, the conversation often went as such:
Person Not Me: “Oh, so you ski?”
Me: “Nope! This will be my first time!”
Person Not Me: “Oh. Well. Good luck!”
Suffice to say, my excitement began to turn to nervousness about exactly what I had gotten myself into.
As a bonus, the day before we were set to leave, I managed to get food poisoning, dropping 5 pounds in the span of 12 hours and meaning that the next few days’ meals subsisted of saltines and Gatorade. But you know me. I’m not going to let a little food poisoning get in my way!
We set out for Snowshoe Mountain, WV on Monday, with the plan to hit the slopes Tuesday and Wednesday. Everyone in my group had skied before so Tuesday morning, while they set out to get started, I headed to the Bunny Slope to take a lesson. After a 2 hour group lesson, I could: get in and out of my skis, use the “snowplow” method to stop, get off the chair lift with a 50% success rate, and almost turn. After lunch, I returned to the Bunny Slope and after a couple of hours, had completed mastered it. All 200 yards of it.
Further down the mountain offered night skiing and members of my group wanted to try that out. Feeling good about my progress in the day, I decided I would accompany them. Which is where I discovered two things very quickly: 1) skiing on ice is difficult; and 2) I still didn’t know anything about skiing. After falling all the way down the first green slope I tried, I was fighting back a lot of frustration and disappointment. Worse, it seemed I was surrounded by 7 year olds that were zipping down the mountain with no fear and complete confidence. One precocious youngster even stopped at one point while I was struggling to get back up after yet another fall and helpfully observed, “You look as if you may be having trouble.” Thanks kid. I hadn’t noticed.
Adding to any emotional pain I may have been feeling, falling on ice was doing quite a number on my rear end. I slunk back to the room with my tail between my legs.
I woke the next morning to a constant drizzle of rain and fog so thick, I could barely see 20 feet in front of me. With the purchase of a lesson the day before, I was entitled to an additional group lesson for free and decided I definitely needed it. With the weather being what it was, my instructor was visibly disappointed that I even showed up. As it was, I was the only one that did, meaning I got a private lesson instead!
We headed down the mountain and we worked on my form and posture. I tell you: Skiing is the most counter-intuitive sport I’ve ever tried. I spent the entire time trying to squat down and lean back and the instructor spent the entire time yelling for me to “Stand up! Lean forward!”
Although we were obviously on the green slopes, we came to an especially steep part at one point and, as I gingerly started down, I managed to begin to fall, this time face forward. I slid for what seemed like forever and after a long time, finally got my skis in front of me to put on the brakes. My skis went one way, my poles went another. After I had reassembled myself and had become upright again, I guess I was pretty visibly shaken. My instructor, sensing my hesitation to continue, said this: “Ok. That was a big fall. But we all fall. We’re all just between falls. You’re ok. Let’s keep going.”
I continued on but liking skiing a whole lot less.
I met back with the group at lunch and when they were ready to head back out, I wasn’t too excited about joining them. But I knew if I didn’t go back out and try again, I may never try again at all. I would let that big fall get bigger in my mind and would convince myself skiing was too dangerous and wasn’t for me. One person in the group stayed with me, babysitting me as I slowly made my way down the mountain a few times. I managed to successfully go down twice without falling and even got off the ski lift without falling too. But I felt bad that she was being held up by my slow progress and after a couple of hours, decided to call it a day so she could enjoy her last day on the slopes.
So that was my first experience skiing. And I did have a good time. I didn’t think about taking photos until the last day so there isn’t any “proof” of my smiling face on the slopes but I want to go again. I want to try to get better. I guess I can say I’ve “learned” to ski but like so many things, it will continue to be a learning experience for the rest of my life.
Who out there is an avid skier? Or are you the type to just stay in the lodge and drink?
