Did I ever tell you I am afraid of adventure? Not necessarily traveling, the little travel I have done I LOVED. I’m talking about skiing, boating, horseback riding, etc. I know there are a lot of bloggers out there that could write love stories about these things, but I am not one of them. Don’t get me wrong, I have a ton of respect for these things and realize how amazing they are for other people. I just can’t let myself enjoy any of it. I think my problem is I am a control freak. I don’t like to not be in control of the outcome of my body/life/future … this is probably why I can be so crazy.
Let me tell you about the time I REALLY realized this.
I went to school in Idaho. It was a hard adjustment considering I grew up in the desert of California, and then St George. I don’t really like snow. It’s cold and wet and turns grey after 2 days. Probably another reason I never got into snow was because I never had an excuse to do snow sports. Well, I had a few roommates who were obsessed with skiing and snow boarding. They convinced me it was a good idea – and in college I never really turned down an offer to go have fun. So I rented some equipment and off we went.
Look at me … so trusting.
One of my roommates grew up in Denver and convinced me that skiing was way easier. So that is what I decided to do. Her and some of my other friends taught me how to do the pizza or whatever it’s called and I practiced it all night on the bunny hill. You know the one where the little kids zoom past you and call you a grandma – that one. So I was happy as a clam going up and down the bunny hill and then my roommates came and told me it was time to put my big girl panties on and go on the mountain.
I looked up to the first drop off of the ski lift and it didn’t seem too high, so up I went. Now to give you an idea of how unprepared I was, when we got to the ski lift I started going backwards down the hill and couldn’t stop myself. Not only did my Denver roommate have to grab me and pull me back up to the lift, but she also had to put me on the lift, hold my poles, and get me off the lift when it was time to get off.
It’s just like Oprah says, when you hear that little voice inside your head saying don’t do it – DON’T DO IT!!! I didn’t listen.
She helped me get my bearings and then said, “Okay, go!” So I went. I went and went and went – diagonally – until I realized I was headed straight for the trees. My little spaghetti legs weren’t strong enough to do the pizza thing on the big hill. So I screamed bloody murder and made myself fall over. I then slid half way down head first on my back and laid in the snow. Sobbing and laughing all at the same time while my friend Kelli laughed her bumb off
while trying not to show it. It was a rough night.
I sat there all dramatic like for about 20 minutes while my friends tried to get me back on my skis, while I swore I was walking down the mountain. Eventually my Denver roommate ended up skiing me down the mountain with me between her legs like a little girl. And then I spent the rest of the night in the janky lodge. I am just not meant for these things.
I have lots of these stories … that is why I don’t like adventure. I try things and they go HORRIBLY wrong. I would have anxiety attacks at night when I tried to sleep for months after this. I’m embarrassing. I’ll stick to the things I’m good at …