Okay, for those of you with twisted minds, I am not speaking of the drug. I am referring to my first time skiing. Zach and I went up with the youth group to Afton Resort in MN this last weekend. We had about 21 people - 8 sponsors and 13 kids. All but 2 kids skiied. No one died either or is currently wearing a cast or renting a bed in the local hospice.
Now Zach is a huge lover of the snow and skiing. He went all out and bringing out his skis and making sure the outfit didn't clash. I usually never have to redo an outfit for him (though I did ask that he never go back to the sweater vests stored in the closet from college). He has pretty good average taste. Well, I didn't expect such detail on his skiing outfit though. He did look professional and pretty dudish coming down the hills. I have my own personal hot ski instructer. Bonus!
We found waterproof swishy pants for me, ski gloves, and some cheap sunglasses. No goggles for us. Thankfully, my green, white, black coat is easy to match...ya just look for black stuff. We borrowed some very nice skis from Zach's boss and his wife and after a few set up and step out lessons in the apartment, I was as ready as I could be before hitting the bunny hill.
Actually the lessons started as soon as I stepped out of the van in the ski boots. You cannot walk like a normal biped in those things. I felt like a clone storm trooper with slightly bent knees. The worse thing was walking down stairs. I prayed before each step that I wouldn't land on my face. I made it through every step that day thankfully.
Next was the bunny hill. I wasn't sure what to expect since just getting across the flatter terrain was so much work even with ski poles. My armpits and sides are still sore. Since Zach and I had brought skis, we were able to have about 15 minutes to get me to get a feel for this great sport. After all I was a sponsor and needed to help out with the teens. Ha!
The ride up the hill in the ski lifts were all quite pleasant and scenic. It also allowed for some moments of recomposure after times of a hard landing or time for convincing myself that the only way down the next run was by skis. I never did chicken out at the top, but was oh, so close on the last black run. You will see all reason for this proved to be true when I later relate.
I made it down the bunny hill a couple of times with really no problem at all. My greatest fear all day was running into somebody. I did run into two people all day...Zach took all my weight on the bunny hill and then later James (another sponsor) as I tried to slow down in the lift line. So I knew both of them. After the bunny hill, my honey apparently had enough confidence in me to take me to another hill. A blue one! The blue ones were intermediate!!! Well, I decided that if I died, heaven would be warmer and I could watch everyone else learn from an awesome view...and seriously, if little kids no more than 3 feet tall could do it then I could.
So down we went. I beat him since apparently my biggest problem is slowing myself down. No speed control. I almost always beat everyone down. That made stopping though questionable and at most very memorable. I was told that the couple of big ones looked pretty cool!! I made myself get back up and go again though everytime.
After that first great landing, I drug myself into near exhaustion with my ski poles back over to where the teens were slowly arriving from being fitted. Time to be sponsor. So I went down the bunny hill a few more times, this time trying out my turning. My teacher couldn't teach any longer, so I was on my own. I was beginning to gain more confidence thanks to no falls and a growing excitement for the thrills of speeding down a snowy hill and icy corners, so Stef (one of the older teens who had been skiing for a few years) and I took off to ski wherever we could handle.
We hit half of the blue trails (one was a black and we didn't realize it), got a little lost, and then came back for lunch. After lunch and seeing that half of the sponsors were happy being on the bunny hills with some of the other teens, we took off with the three most experienced ski sponsors. We started at one side of the resort and just started hitting every trail, then lift, then the next run, slowly moving to the other end where the hardest black runs were. Stef and I ran most of them with the guys, but for one. I only had one hard landing too.
We got to the hardest black runs. It didn't look too bad from the bottom, but my heart was unwillingly beginning to pound much too fast for real excitement. By this time, a newbie skiier of the age of 12 with no fear and full of ignorance had joined us and I would not let him outdo me. We loaded onto the lift, as we rode up the hill began to look a lot steeper and there were two hidden hills. You should really be able to see those from the bottom before you sign your death warrent and scale up to the top.
I got to the top and was being egged on nicely that it would be fine and it would be a short trip the speed I went. I think I began a cold sweat when I could see nothing, but a drop-off less than 25 yards away. Everyone else was more than ready and somebody shouted "last to the bottom is a rotten egg!". I knew in my pulsing heart that I would be the freshest egg out there. Sure enough, speed took over, I did all I could to keep my balance till the bottom. Everything was going fine as I plowed wind and swished by everyone else. Then all of a sudden the second hidden hill was there. It jetted me up as well as out and the back of my skiis caught part of the hill. I couldn't keep the landing (no one told me about speed+hidden hill=unwanted and unexpected air). I plummeted down the hill on my back as snow packed up under my coat, then asmy elbow barely missed contact with a snowboard, I was flipped and spun to my stomach with my skiis still attached. I plowed snow for a little and then finally came to a stop.
I got up as soon as I could since I wasn't hurt. I don't like people clammoring over me like that. I sat up shaking a little and tried to figure where I had stopped and how I was going to get up. The medic guy came over and was checking on me finally commenting that I shouldn't be crashing like that on hills such as this. In other words, I heard if you can't handle it, don't do it since we don't like to pick the limp and contorted bodies off these slopes. My hubby and one of the teens came over. KD was going on about how I just disappeared over the hill and then was a blustering ball of powder snow, arms, legs, and skiis. "It looked terrible!!!" Great! Everyone had a show at least. I wasn't hurt at all though. My honey knows that I hate to make a scene when other people are hurt everyday worse than I could be and kept on asking me if I was ok such. I finally was able to reassure him that I was fine, but that I need to just sit for a while. My stomach was still doing the previous somersaults and my head was a aching. I also needed to unload the snow in my coat and pants in a more appropriate place. I declined KD's request to go back up with her and try again and wished them on their way to more fun in their experienced skills.
On my way back, I did run down the bunny hill a couple of times, so that the last thing my body felt and remembered was better than the previous. Then I joined my couple of non-skiing friends for the last couple of hours drinking a hot cuppa joe and watched my ski dude take the Afton hills like he hadn't really missed the few years since he had taken the slopes in MT.
We get to go once again with our young married's class in a week and a half. I am very excited and I plan on getting the turning down and the speed under control and yes...I will go down that black diamond again and make it!! I'll save it till last though, so I can enjoy most of the day in fully stable physical state...I hope!
