Jamie vs. Keystone
I’ve been skiing before. It was the one sport that I thought I might have a slight talent in. I went several times in high school, and actually got halfway decent. Back then I really had no fear of falling, or slamming into trees or dying on mountains. Nope. I clipped in and jumped off the run going as fast as was possible, and somehow, but the grace of some diety, I typically stayed on my feet. I was not the bunny slope gal…not at all.
Fast forward 7 or 8 years, and put me on the top of Keystone. It’s beautiful. We had the best view and the best day. This is a wonderful, picturesque snow covered mountain. A mountain. A real mountain. Not a small Minnesota mountain, but a real Colorado Rocky Mountain. And then, put three PBRs in my system to calm the fear. And then put an ipod in my ears…because that’s what everyone else does…it’s not like I need to focus.
Wait. Yes. I actually do need to. On the first run, I was nothing but a flailing mess of arms and legs and poles. I fell three times. On the first run. The. First. Run. Mind you, I am with three much more experience people…I became the one they would run halfway down for…then they would pull off the slope, and wait for me near the trees. Usually it would take me twice as long, because in the time they went down, I would have to eat shit, find my skis, place them at an angle at which I could step back in to them, gather up my splattered pride, and slowly, slowly take my ass down the hill. The first 5 or 6 falls had me cursing myself and whispering the word “fuck” every time I got going too fast. I saw my life flash before my eyes as I envisioned myself running face first and leaving my bloody shredded remains tangled around a tree.
The last fall, though, it actually reallly hurt. Badly. My left ski got twisted somehow, and rather than fly off like it did every other time, this one decided to stay attached just to see how badly it could actually jack up my knee. And it did. I had decided I would just lay there for a while while rocking back and forth cradling my knee, taking very deep breaths from time to time.
An old man asked me if I was okay. “Yup. Fine. Just shaking this one off. Thanks though.”
Then these other two people came around to see if I was alright. And by people I mean 2 six year olds. And I’m not shitting you. They were tiny. And they were doing all this crazy shit on their skis, sans poles, mind you. They were about the size of that little girl…in the pink helmet—>
“Yup. I’m fine. Go find your mom and get your hot chocolate. Oh, and before you go…could you please put my pride back down…I’d like to keep that, theives.”
Everyone needs a humbling experience from time to time….