Hey Internet. I’ve recently come to the conclusion that my sense of self-preservation is completely haywire. Why, you ask? Well, because recently I went skiing for the first time.
Now, skiing is fun. Don’t get me wrong. But as far as activities with low risk of injury go, you’d best look somewhere else. A sewing bee, for example. (On second thought, maybe not. Needles are stabby.) In fact, if there’s anything that I took from this whole experience, it’s that it’s best to learn to ski while you’re a kid. This bit of wisdom is of course garnered from the fact that 6 year-olds were whizzing past me on the slopes while I floundered about like a beached whale.
My skiing experience got off to a rollicking start when, less than 5 minutes after I first strapped skis to my feet, I went sliding down a slight incline straight into an old man. Well, I didn’t hit him, but I did run over his snowboard a little (he wasn’t riding it at the time). He helped me up, and I somehow made it to the bunny slope, thanks in large part to a couple of more experienced skiers who were with my group on the ski trip.
Once I was off the ski lift (a miracle in itself) I proceeded to fall down a lot. As I made my slow and laborious way down the bunny slope, this time under the patient tutelage of another couple of people from my group. I was about a quarter of the way down, laying in the snow on my side because I had fallen (again) and was having a time of it trying to figure out how to get up, when another novice skier from my group went streaking past me at top speed. “I don’t know how to stoooooopppppp!” she cried as she sped, completely out of control, to her certain doom. Fortunately(?) before she ran into a house or off a cliff, she completely wiped out near the bottom of the slope, losing both skis, both poles, and her hat, although thankfully no limbs.
From my position near the top of the slope, I whimpered softly. However, this was basically the low point of my learning-to-ski experience. Well, until that afternoon, when my friend convinced me it would be a good idea to try a couple of blues. Exhausted by the ordeal of the morning, I failed miserably. I mean, I eventually got down the mountain. But it took all afternoon and what little dignity I still possessed.
That morning, though, I eventually figured out how to stand up after falling down on skis. As anyone who skis can tell you, this is no small feat. I followed this achievement by figuring out how to actually ski, and I got down the bunny slope a couple of times without falling… very much.
The second day out, I found my equilibrium and went down some of the normal non-bunny greens. I didn’t even fall! Well, a few times. But still.
Next time (assuming I get to go skiing again at some point in my life) I’ll be skiing blues. DUN DUN DUNN.