I’m trying to book a flight to Canada to visit one of my best friends, but the flights are really pricey! I’ve got to get there soon because winter will be here before we know it, and I’m not going to Canada in the winter. My friend promises that the winter skiing is wonderful, but I don‘t care. Besides the fact that I don’t leave my home when it’s cold and snowing to travel to places where it’s also cold and snowing, I don’t ski terribly well.
I went on a New Year’s Eve ski trip fifteen years ago in Michigan. I had never skied before, but I wasn’t even concerned. I was naturally athletic and assumed that I would pick it up quickly. I assumed wrong.
Things started out bad right from the start. I couldn’t even walk in a straight line with those skis on. I took one step with my left ski. And then the right ski, attempting to step forward, would actually cross over the left ski. I had to tell my brain to pick up my foot and move it off the left ski. I took another step and then the right ski crossed the left ski again. I felt like I was learning to walk all over again.
After what seemed like an hour later, I finally reached the bunny hill, where my friend and her fiance’ were patiently waiting for me. They said a few trips down the bunny hill and I would be ready to go – great! I wasn’t looking too graceful on any of my runs, but they assured me that the best thing to do was to “Just Do It“. Ohhhkay!
We make it to the ski lift and the three of us jump on a seat together – me in the middle. As we make our way up the hill I realize that this ride never stops. If I don’t jump off this seat at just the right time, I’m going to get stuck on this ride, so I needed to be ready to jump. As we neared the top, I anticipated the perfect moment to dismount. Unfortunately, I pushed off against my friends so hard in my attempt to get out, that I literally pushed them back on and they were unable to exit the ride – oops!
So, there I am – standing at the top of this hill with only one way to get down. “Just Do It” they had said. So, I pointed my skis toward the bottom of the hill and off I went. WOW! I picked up some serious speed, which kind of freaked me out. I suddenly realized how moronic this whole idea was. “Just Do It?” Just do what? Fly down a mountainous hill at lightening speed wearing shoes that are longer than I am tall? Or, throw myself on the ground in an attempt to lessen the impact I was about to have with a pack of innocent “real” skiers waiting in line for the lift? OR, lose a ski in the middle of this joy ride and be forced to crawl up the hill one fingernail at a time to retrieve it, as ski lift riders enjoy a bird’s eye view of my natural athletic ability? I was exhausted. Was it time for lunch yet? Little did I know, that was just the beginning of my long and embarrassing day in Michigan. I’ve said many times that I lost all my pride on that mountain – and it’s true.
I gotta get to Canada NOW while it’s still warm, so I can go hiking and and have lunch with a grizzly bear!
( I did go skiing again a few years later in Colorado and took some lessons. Who knew lessons could be so helpful?)