What do you do with a face full of snow and a trail of ski equipment marking your every mishap? Some may turn red with embarrassment, some may cry, and some may swear to never go down that wretched mountain again. Trust me, I have done each one. As a fourteen-year-old freshman, I suddenly found myself in a strange new land. Colorado had me knocking more snow off my boots after a walk across the street than I had seen throughout my entire life living in Texas.
Early the first morning I bundled up and headed towards the mountain. A pit stop at ski school aided my confidence and I knew I was ready to take on the infamous and the formidable bunny slope. After taking the three-inch run with ease, I stumbled my way over to the nearest lift. As …show more content…
After numerous failed skiing attempts, I was certain that I would not once place my feet in the stiff boots again. In hindsight, two runs down the mountain were not enough to make me an Olympic skier. Clumsily returning to ski school for the third year in a row, I again towered above all my fellow novices by approximately two feet. The three and four-year old children flew down the slopes with ease, making my attempt at skiing a pitiful sight to watch. Despite the embarrassment of being surpassed by someone less than half my age, I refused to accept defeat from that measly mountain. I was going to learn to ski. After years of slaving in ski school, falling over and over again, damaging my pride most likely along with my skis, surrendering is not an option. While I am not the gold-medal winning, professional athlete I expected myself to be that first day on the bunny hill, I manage to achieve my goal. That year I made it down the mountain multiple times, a record six runs! I even ventured beyond the familiar trail into completely new terrain. While there were some days where I only wanted to sit by the fireplace and drink hot cocoa, compelling myself to keep going and beginning to grasp the task taught me to endure the freezing struggle as the reward of achieving a seemingly unattainable goal surpassed any four-year olds giggling and pointing or any frostbite I had
Early the first morning I bundled up and headed towards the mountain. A pit stop at ski school aided my confidence and I knew I was ready to take on the infamous and the formidable bunny slope. After taking the three-inch run with ease, I stumbled my way over to the nearest lift. As …show more content…
After numerous failed skiing attempts, I was certain that I would not once place my feet in the stiff boots again. In hindsight, two runs down the mountain were not enough to make me an Olympic skier. Clumsily returning to ski school for the third year in a row, I again towered above all my fellow novices by approximately two feet. The three and four-year old children flew down the slopes with ease, making my attempt at skiing a pitiful sight to watch. Despite the embarrassment of being surpassed by someone less than half my age, I refused to accept defeat from that measly mountain. I was going to learn to ski. After years of slaving in ski school, falling over and over again, damaging my pride most likely along with my skis, surrendering is not an option. While I am not the gold-medal winning, professional athlete I expected myself to be that first day on the bunny hill, I manage to achieve my goal. That year I made it down the mountain multiple times, a record six runs! I even ventured beyond the familiar trail into completely new terrain. While there were some days where I only wanted to sit by the fireplace and drink hot cocoa, compelling myself to keep going and beginning to grasp the task taught me to endure the freezing struggle as the reward of achieving a seemingly unattainable goal surpassed any four-year olds giggling and pointing or any frostbite I had