Attack the Mountain

"Attack the mountain, don't let the mountain attack you"  said my brother as I travelled up a green run on a chair lift.  He was attempting to give me my first ski lesson.  As we approached the unloading zone I repeated his MANTRA in my head.  The funny thing is, I may have attacked the mountain but the mountain is a black belt and I am a child learning how to walk.  Within 5 seconds I was on my butt with the skis twisted right over left  and then left over right.  Apparently, I need to learn to crawl before I can learn to walk (or ski).

The next lesson was learning to stand up after I fall.  "Get the skis in line and off to your side. While leaning forward, squat and stand up". So I untwisted my skis and legs and got them in line to my left. My right hip was sitting heavy on the mountain as I attempted to stand.  I would get into the squat and then the skis would scoot forward and I was back on my butt again. 

Eventually I was back on my feet and my brother was ready for my 3rd lesson:  "Control".  Well this one is simple.  Put your skis into a pizza wedge shape to slow yourself down when you get out of control.  Got it, Good.  I start skiing down the mountain and quickly realized making a pizza wedge with my skis is not as simple as pointing my toes in.  My skis overlap in the front and I panicked...and then I fell. 

The process of falling, standing, skiing, falling, standing, skiing continues down the mountain until 1.5 hours passes and my legs are numb in their entirety.  By this time I am frustrated with myself, and feeling pretty sorry for my brother having to tolerate this awful display of athleticism.  I ask for a break and tell my brother to go do some runs on his own.  He calls me an hour later after doing 6 runs down the mountain  (putting my 1 run in 1.5 hours in perspective) to check up on me.  I have place my butt in a pretty comfortable chair and was surrounded by chapstick, Gatorade and trail mix.   There was NO WAY I would be moving my comfortable butt from that chair to the brutal snow covered mountain.  I decided I was done for the day--attacking the mountain would have to happen on another day. 

As we left the mountains that day, I was trying to come up with different activities for the second day of skiing.  One day of pain and humiliation was enough for me.  However, the next day I woke up and prepared for another day of attacking and being attacked.  We got to the mountain and I immediately signed up for Ski School and mentally prepared myself for a days worth of instruction from a complete stranger. 

The class started at 10 am and ended at 3:30 pm.  In a day we learned to put on skis, walk in skis, side step in skis, jump in skis, go down a bunny hill in skis, do a pizza wedge in skis, do a turn in skis, ride a lift in skis, get off a lift in skis, and finally do down the green run from the previous day in skis.  I fell once because another skier lost control and ran me over.  Which was, in all sincerity, truly hilarious. It was an amazing day full of growth and retribution.  I went through the day attacking the mountain...and the mountain let me.   And now I am addicted.