Skiing

I am scheduled to go on a ski trip with some of the students from school on Thursday. I thought it might be a good idea to warm up my ski legs before then, seeing as it has been six years since I have been on skis. Feeling pretty anxious and very hesitant (to the point of driving all the way around the roundabout at the top of the mountain and beginning to head back down), I called my dad for a pep talk. I remember him being my faithful ski instructor as a kid, I know he would have some words of wisdom. He first asked if anyone was going with me. When I told him no, because I did not want to be embarrassed at my lack of skill. He made a comment about how if I did bring a friend it would be a sure way to lose them. He began to tell me of the last time he took me skiing, several years ago. Apparently, I fell down and he went over to help me up. The conversation (if you can call it that) went something like this:

D: Do you need some help, Sweetheart?

Erin: I hate this! And I hate you!

Dad: What's wrong, are you ok? (moves closer)

Erin: Get away from me!!

Dad: Ok, do you want me to just ski down the hill and leave you here?

Erin: Noooo! Don't you leave me here!

Dad: Ok, what can I do to help?

Erin: Shut up! Don't talk to me!

Dad: Ok, then I'm going to go.

Erin: Don't leave me here!!!

Dad: What do you want me to do then?

Erin: I told you to shut up!!!

After my conversation with him I started to make more sense of my skiing anxiety, I do not think it is a sport that came very naturally to me. However, today went fairly well. I hopped on the bunny hill and was amazed at my carving skills. Not one snow plow. The highlight of my bunny hill experience was riding the chairlift with a four-year old boy who had "Please hold onto me on the chairlift. I am only 4. I fell off the chairlift before." taped onto his helmet. His name was Jackson and he was so cute. As I went down the hill practicing my turns I was slightly embarrassed to realize the little guy had beat me down the hill, but that is only because I was working on my technique, right?

I started to get pretty confident in myself and headed up the mountain for a blue run. As I started getting higher in elevation the visibility began to lessen until I could only see several yards in front of me. The dread returned. As I got off the lift and stared down a hill I could not see what I was getting myself into, except for the fact that it dropped steeply in elevation, I asked myself what in the world I was thinking! To my surprise, I made it down the hill without falling and without any major panic attacks. Somehow, someway, skiing is ingrained in my body. My legs always seem to know what to do as my body weight shifts from side to side. I think I had a good teacher growing up. You could have left me on that hill years ago, but you didn't. Thanks, Dad.