Ski Day

Is this a blue run? Why is it so steep? Did I do this one last year? Why can’t we just do Easy Rider all day? Crap. God I hate this part. Okay okay okay just turn and breath. Turn and breath. Oh crap! Damn, Gina, that was close. You are too close to me, Sir!! Shit! You got this you got this. Holy shitballs that’s fast. Oh shitballs I am going really fast. Fooooocus. It’s fine.  Ohhhhhhh shitballs. Oh my god please don’t hit that kid. What the HELL!!!! Who let these goddamned snowboarders on here??  I hate them! I hate you!!! HOLY CHRIST STOP SNEAKING UP ON ME! YOU ARE CRAZY PEOPLE! Where are my kids? Good god they are fast. Whoa whoa whoa which way are they going? Why are they going two different ways? YOU GUYS!!! WAIT FOR ME!!! Holy shitballs what the hell crap crap crap why are there so many people here? LOOK AT MY TURNS PEOPLE! STAY FAR AWAY FROM ME!  Can we please drink beer now???

This is me skiing.

This is me skiing each time I ski, which is only one or two days a year.

This is me skiing after learning how to ski as an Adult-which from watching the experience The Children are having- is a very different thing than learning how to ski as a Child. As an Adult I understand that it is unnatural to be moving at such an undesirable speed down a mountain covered in snow, ice, twigs, and Asshole Speed Demons. As a Child, moving at such an undesirable speed down a mountain is like super fun and only goal is to become Asshole Speed Demon. Also-as an Adult, skiing is fucking expensive and as a Child-skiing is free. It’s a compelling argument to begin skiing as a Child, isn’t it? 

Although it’s sad to admit that Son is by far better than me and Daughter will soon be on her way, there are a couple things I excel at over The Children when skiing. First-I am aware that although ski boots are highly uncomfortable and can be challenging to put on, I will not die while doing so. This is the opposite opinion of The Children who both do their damnedest to win Best Dramatic Performance by a Child at a Ski Lodge while inserting foot into boot. 

Second-I am better at Carrying All The Shit. So much shit. So so so so so so many things to carry up the two flights of stairs to the lockers to put on the murderous boots to then only be raped financially by Whitney from Nevada as she gleefully takes my credit card to charge me $300 for lift tickets for ONE day as I stand there hoping I’m hallucinating but quickly realize, nope, I’m totally lucid. Beginning to wonder how skiing is such an elitist sport…yet such a pain in the ass at the same time?  And why don’t I have a flask in this jacket? That’s what all the pockets are for….right? Flask would be so superior to this Fiber One Bar I must have left in my jacket from last year….

I don’t love skiing; I don’t hate skiing. I enjoy it. It’s challenging for me; in fact it challenges me in almost every way. My patience. My strength. My patience. My balance. My patience. My courage.  But what I appreciate most about it is how it forces me to be extremely present, moment to moment. How I can feel every muscle in my body working and hear every swoosh sneaking up behind me. All of my five senses are are high alert, ready to prevail. Each detail surrounding me is amplified; even the quiet is thunderous. Skiing reminds me that I can do something even if scares me; I can settle into the discomfort and figure it out. I can do it, me alone. I can do it and I can even enjoy it. I appreciate that sense of satisfaction, at the end of the day, releasing my feet from those barbaric boots, unzipping and stripping a jacket that suddenly seems to warm, my face flush with cold and sweat alike. I appreciate that I get to share this experience with The Children; that they see a Mama who is a little scared but she is The Adult and The Adult must lead and even though they got down the mountain faster than her, she is there, right behind them, keeping a close watch. While yelling Holy Shitballs. 

And also-the beer. I appreciate the beer. 

Happy trails.