In high school I rode a Sky Coaster. It's one of those ridiculously tall bungee/swing things. I thought it was fabulous.
After my freshman year of college I spent the summer in Santa Cruz. I went spelunking while there. Shimmied through holes deep in the ground that you couldn't fit your whole body through unless you were flat on your belly, arms straight in front of you. Fantastic. Probably fairly stupid, but one of the most exhilerating things I've done.
And now I'm scared of skiing. I've been on five different ski trips, sometimes skiing multiple days during those trips, and still the thought of strapping two boards on my feet and heading down a mountain makes me nauseous. Seriously, I'm feeling a little queasy even as I type this. Maybe it's because I'm older and my sense of mortality has kicked in (a friend told me that your brain doesn't develop that far until you are in your twenties), or because I have children and don't want to fly head first into a chairlift pylon and leave them with a vegetable for a mother, or because I'm just a weanie now. Despite my trepidation, I will continue to go on these trips. One, because I love my husband. Two, because I do enjoy myself after I make it down the mountain a few times. Three, because I am determined to get better and stop being a weanie. For example, I want to learn to stop screaming "Aughh!! Aughh!! Watch out!! Watch out!!" whenever I am careening out of control down a tough stretch. Better yet, I want to learn to stop careening out of control. In the mean time, here are some pictures to remind me that being in the snow is indeed wonderful.
After my freshman year of college I spent the summer in Santa Cruz. I went spelunking while there. Shimmied through holes deep in the ground that you couldn't fit your whole body through unless you were flat on your belly, arms straight in front of you. Fantastic. Probably fairly stupid, but one of the most exhilerating things I've done.
And now I'm scared of skiing. I've been on five different ski trips, sometimes skiing multiple days during those trips, and still the thought of strapping two boards on my feet and heading down a mountain makes me nauseous. Seriously, I'm feeling a little queasy even as I type this. Maybe it's because I'm older and my sense of mortality has kicked in (a friend told me that your brain doesn't develop that far until you are in your twenties), or because I have children and don't want to fly head first into a chairlift pylon and leave them with a vegetable for a mother, or because I'm just a weanie now. Despite my trepidation, I will continue to go on these trips. One, because I love my husband. Two, because I do enjoy myself after I make it down the mountain a few times. Three, because I am determined to get better and stop being a weanie. For example, I want to learn to stop screaming "Aughh!! Aughh!! Watch out!! Watch out!!" whenever I am careening out of control down a tough stretch. Better yet, I want to learn to stop careening out of control. In the mean time, here are some pictures to remind me that being in the snow is indeed wonderful.
2 comments:
The last photo is enough encouragement for you!
The last photo is enough encouragement for you!
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