Snow Virgins, Board Lessons, and ERs

One of the things I am most grateful for in this life is that nearly every athletic pursuit I now enjoy as an adult I learned a long, long time ago. My mom tells me I was riding a little tricycle around my big sister’s kindergarten playground at the wee age of two-ish. My parents lied about my age to get me into T-ball and soccer earlier than the required age of five because I was apparently too annoyingly energetic to deal with (and also bigger than most other 4 year olds). And my dad, in his infinite wisdom, stuck my 8-year-old sister and 5-year-old self in skiing lessons for a week while the rest of the adults tackled the slopes together, child- and care-free.

My point is this: all of those sports are difficult, and take most people years to fully learn to the point of comfortably calling themselves intermediates instead of mere amateurs or beginners. This is why, when my best friend announced she was going to learn to snowboard on our vacation this year, I choked on a peanut and said a little prayer for her, and my sanity.

Now, don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I doubt her ability to pick up a sport, or even her athletic prowess and/or drive to succeed. I choked because I remember all of the falling; the sore muscles; and the bruised legs, arms, and ass – the difference is that I went through that between the ages of 5 and 10 years old when everybody are just little rubber balls of energy, numb to pain and suffering from physical exertion and uncoordinated mistakes. My best friend, however, would be taking on these feats as a 27-year-old Gold’s Gym ellipser – two very different stages in life.

The trip started out with us missing our shuttle up to Vail (a good friend of mine lives there), but, amazingly, neither of us let that small kink deter or even dampen our excitement. We got up there the next morning and were on the slopes in plenty of time to get a full half-day of glorious spring snowboarding under our belts. Before I go on, I have to make the disclaimer that several people hip to the trials and tribulations of first-time snowboarding had expressed to Nate’ the urgent advice of taking lessons since it was her first time. She was fully on board… and then saw how much they cost and made the executive decision to wing it – to which I had no veto power. So, we get up the first lift on a gorgeous spring afternoon in Beav, I somehow talk her through getting off the lift (rather well, I might say, she didn’t even fall!), and Nate’ gets about 150 yards down the first catwalk to a green and calls it. Time of day 1’s death: oh-quick-thirty. In her defense, I do not claim to be a good snowboard instructor. If I was, I wouldn’t be working my current job in the middle of Texas – I’d be living the high-life traveling from resort to resort making a living off of being on the slopes all day. Anyway, I digress…

After that first day she wisely decided she needed to take a lesson, so she signed up for an all-day’er starting the following morning. She was completely excited to learn, undoubtedly because it was from an actual instructor and not her dippy best friend who was giving her such gold as, “uh, so, like turn your back foot when you start to feel like you’re gonna fall…” Glorious advice, if I do say so myself… ugh – thanks for not hating me, Rooms. Anyway, so she hauls off to lessons and I hit the hill by myself, which was actually kinda nice because I had all day to just get lost and go where ever I wanted. I got cranked by some douche-bag not looking where he was going sometime midday, so I decided to take a break and go check on how lessons were coming along… Only to be met with a gleaming smile as Nate’ held up her mangled arm and exclaimed, “I hurt myself snowboarding!” Greeaaat.

The most bad-ass part about it is that she finished the entire day’s lesson with a wrist the size of my thigh (okay, I flatter myself – even her swollen as hell wrist was smaller than my thunder thigh, but you get my point in exaggerating for emphasis). We finished our time up in Vail and decided to go to the Emergency Room once we got to my sister’s place – that’s where we found out it was broken.

So that trip to Colorado will always be an amazing story for Nate’ – first time in snow, first time snowboarding, fell and hurt her wrist wherein it swelled up so bad she got to spend all day clutching at and being clutched by a hot Australian snowboard instructor, and then went to the ER two days later only to find out she broke it. Rooms, you badass, you – thanks for the great story!