Love at First Turn

Somewhere between the poker and Jäger-Bombs, I agreed to try skiing.

It started when I accepted an invitation from JZ (Eyton’s friend from Chicago) last winter. Agreeing to try a high-risk sport with a (near) stranger was part of a new attitude I was exploring: say yes to everything. This attitude survived any pessimism long enough to find equipment and clothing, but as JZ and I followed the sun into the west on that chilly, March afternoon, it was hard to maintain the carefree, naïve perspective. What if I fell? What if I plowed into other skiers? What if I went down the wrong run? What if I couldn’t control myself? I watched the coarse, dry fields along the interstate and wondered if I could do it.

I had only gone skiing once, in high school, when I didn’t know how to stop and didn’t know how to turn. I was so out-of-control that I never count it as the first time. Speeding straight down the hill, past jaw-dropping onlookers, thinking only about the bottom, is not skiing. This time, when I got to the top of the chair lift, I was determined to do it better.

At the top of the hill, JZ showed me how to snow-plow (pointing the ski tips together forming a backwards ‘V’), and I followed him for a moment. Soon, though, I needed to do more. So I turned my skis parallel, picked up speed, and didn’t look behind me. It was a magical moment of unexpected confidence and courage. All self-doubt disappeared and I didn’t just know I was going to be okay, I knew I was onto something.

The rest of the night, JZ and I explored mostly green circles, and a few blue squares. JZ, it turned out, was the best person to take me skiing. He was relaxed and patient, fun and encouraging. He’s a fantastic skier and made me feel safe. A couple times, he had to walk UP the hill, on his skis, to pick me up after a spill (thanks to the racing skis that didn’t pop off when I fell). And there were other times when he let me pass him up, if for no other reason than to boost my confidence.

The first night was a little rocky – the turns weren’t beautiful and five-year-olds looked better than me – but there was something about skiing that made me feel like that was how I was always supposed to move. That motion, that natural shift in the body, is what I imagine falling in love will be like – feeling, for the first time, something that was part of me all along.



A Brief History

The First:

Time on skis (www.skibrule.com) – February 18, 2001
Real time on skis (www.cascademountain.com) – March 1, 2005
Opening day (Cascade) – November 19, 2005
Ownership of skis and boots (K2 and Tecnica) – December 3, 2005
Ski trip alone (www.tyrolbasin.com) – December 21, 2005
Birthday spent skiing (www.aftonalps.com) – December 30, 2005
Injury (terrain park) – January 13, 2006