I like to think the reason I've never gone skiing before is because of the fact that I grew up in Phoenix.
There's skiing up north though, so I guess that's only part of it.
Mainly, I supposed it was too dangerous (what, with people skiing into trees and dying and all).
I guess I was scared.
The other day, out of the blue, T asked me if I wanted to go skiing with him.
I agreed, a little surprised since he'd never asked me before.
So, on a Friday, we loaded up the kids, dropped them off at Grandma Toot Toots (he still calls her that) and Papa Rich's house and went on an adventure.
I still don't own any real decent snow gear, so we had to clothe me with things found at the Pegram house. (Read: clothes full of holes from standing too close to the fire, clothes people left behind, clothes too old, and clothes not really suitable for this occasion. )
We get there and come to find out T wasn't going skiing at all. He planned on watching/teaching/helping me through this whole process.
I get fitted for everything and hobble out to the slopes.
We only bought me a bunny hill pass, since I wasn't planning on mastering my flips and jumps just yet.
T starts off by teaching me all the basics. He is very good teacher. He was thorough and detailed in his instructions, but also patient when I didn't understand what was going on.
Even now thinking back to that day, reminds me why I married this man.
(Aside from gorgeousness. He is still the most attractive man I have ever met.)
I fell a lot, but it wasn't that painful since I was going -2 miles an hour and I was falling on powdered snow.
I had one runaway situation where T basically had to slam himself into me to keep me from wreaking havoc on all the people below below like some sort of awkward Godzilla.
Near the end, I think I got the hang of it. There were two little girls hanging around me, being my own personal cheerleaders and they assured me I did not look dumb when I fell and that I was doing a very good job.
It helped a lot.
I actually had a lot of fun.
I think I want to do it again, only under some different conditions.
One, buy some ski pants. The worst part about falling was all the snow shoved up my backside. Snow dripping down your crack is not really the feeling one wants to have while skiing.
Two, maybe do some push-ups or something beforehand? I was so sore afterwards, but only in my arms and sides. That tug rope up the hill is brutal!
Three, have T ski along with me. I kinda felt bad he spent the whole time teaching me and not having any fun. (Although, watching me fall must have been pretty entertaining.)
Four, not learn to enjoy something right before the season ends? I now have to wait another six months before I can master my skiing skills.
I had a lot of fun. There is a lot more thinking involved than I thought, and when in doubt, fall down.