I have established that I am not an athletic person. I never played competitive sports, I was always the first person out at dodge ball, and I never made it up that damn rope in gym class.
There is one sport that I can hold my own at and that is skiing. I can ski most black runs and I have even tried deep powder and moguls, although I will admit to screaming, cussing and going slow. I have a video of myself going down one of these runs, my husband pans back and at the bottom of the hill you can see my kids, laying down waiting for me, it took me a while.
But I love to ski; I love to be on the hill with the kids, strainging every muscle in my body to keep up with them. I love how friendly everyone is, the entire culture is right up my alley. Let’s not forget how awesome it is that after being on the slopes, you can basically ski up to a bar and get a beer.
This weekend I was skiing while my daughter was boarding and a snowstorm whips up. We had around 30 yards of visibility, strong winds and we got a bit lost. We found our way to the lodge but had to grab a towrope to get up the hill. We don’t take many towropes, and this one was tough to hold on to. We held on for dear life, the wind blowing us sideways, and the rope pulling us up. After falling several times we made it, laughing the whole time. It was great. Clearly, I should have worked harder at climbing that rope in gym class.