Falling Down in the Snow AKA Skiing

My face of apprehension and how do I do this? at the beginning of the trip.

Last weekend, my fiance took me on my first ever cross country skiing trip.  On the days leading up to the event, a large part of me felt quite apprehensive--and rightfully so.  I mean to say that the last time I attempted a winter sport, it was less than graceful.

The last time I partook in a winter sport activity was when I went snowboarding in 8th grade with my middle school.  While I don't remember the specifics of those middle school snowboarding trips, I do recall a little bit of it.

For instance, I remember falling.  More specifically, I remember falling almost every time I got off the chair lift.  Nobody else did that.  If you have not been skiing or snowboarding before, you should know that there is a tiny hill off of the chairlift.  I mean tiny.  Well, that tiny little bastard of a hill got me every damn time.  They had to slow down the entire chair lift for me on more than one occasion so that I could stand up and get the hell out of the way before the next chairlift bench came along, causing the skiers on that bench to crash into me.

Not only did I fall getting off of the chairlift, but I also fell getting on the chairlift once.  I don't know how it happened, but I am guessing my footing was off and I somehow tripped over the snowboard, causing me to fall in front of the moving benches of the chair lift.  So there I was, on the ground and trying to stand back on my two uncoordinated feet, and in the meantime, the moving bench had no intention of slowing down.  It smacked me right in the head as I was flailing my limbs around trying to get back up.  Call it adding insult to injury, adding salt to the wound, or whatever other clever sayings you can come up to describe what was happening.  Let's just call it like it was:  a complete fiasco.

It should go without saying that I was more than relieved when those 8th grade ski hill field trips came to an end.  For F sake, it is awkward enough being an 8th grader, but adding that experience to the mix made me feel like there was way too much awkward happening.

Perhaps now you have a clearer picture of just how athletically challenged I am.  Trust me, I could have also discussed the painful time in 6th grade when my best friend, Tiffany, talked me into joining the basketball team.  (Obviously there were not tryouts).  Or, that time that I was on a soccer team when I was 6 and thought that stopping to tie my shoe in the middle of the field mid. game would be a great idea.  The list goes on, but nobody has time to read about all of my ridiculous athletic attempts in just one post.  I think you get it now.  I am no olympian, nor do I pretend to be.  See my previous post Just like riding a bike...or not. for even more evidence of my large motor delays.

Now that you have the back story about what a stellar athlete I am, allow me to tell you about last weekend's cross country skiing trip.  Perhaps you're wondering if I fell, if I am now in a wheelchair, or otherwise made an ass of myself.  To answer your question about falling:  Yes, I fell.  Maybe you're wondering how I could have possibly fallen while cross country skiing.  "Isn't that all downhill?" you ask.  Well, it turns out there were, in fact, some sections of the path that consisted of tiny hills.  After wiping out on the first few tiny hills, I realized that I did learn how to get myself to move in a forward motion with the skis, but I did not learn how to slow down or stop properly.  Luckily, I was able to somewhat figure this technique out by the end of my skiing trip.  Thank God.

Despite my clumsiness, I genuinely enjoyed the skiing trip.  For one, the views were gorgeous.  I am thankful that I was able to stop staring down at my skis and the path directly in front of me for long enough to take in the beautiful scenery.

We may be going again next weekend, and for the first time ever, I can say that I am actually looking forward to the next skiing trip.