My first day on Mount Sima — Sunday, January 12 — was so epic. The beautiful landscape, all dressed up in snow, looked like a postcard.
It was so fun to hear all the laughter from people coming down as I rode up the mountain on the ski lift. The sky is there for those who are scared of the lift. Just concentrate on the blue trying to come through the grey clouds and sun rising or setting.
I could hear, “Yahoo!” and could hardly contain my thoughts when I finally got off the lift to do my first run.
Skiers and snowboarders were passing me by as I carefully did those first turns. Because it was my first day on the hill, I was slow and my legs were burning. So I would rest for a minute or two, and then go again.
All around me I could see children on their snowboards and skis having fun. The kids were skiing down Pete’s Plunge. I decided to follow them down and got courage just knowing if they could do it, then I could, too.
My daughter and I began going down Dan’s Descent. Dan’s Descent was more challenging with many hills where many people would not hold back. The hill was icy, best for carving snow. Every bone and muscle in my body tightened and my legs started burning as I tackled the upper part of the hill.
It cost so much to be in that moment, but it was worth every dime. I was getting a good work out. My heart was beating. The raw feeling of energy mixed with emotion came over me as I kept re-enforcing the “I can do this” attitude.
The ride up was entertaining to see all the skiers coming down so fast. I kept watching their techniques.
Snowboarders were shredding and going over 30 foot drops in one of two parks. One skier did the aerial, flipping 360 degrees and landing on a blown up platform on his skis. I tackled part of the moguls and crossed over to the groomed area.
The wind was biting any exposed skin as we dismounted off the ski lift. I had to clear my goggles by pulling my neck warmer down to release breath without fogging up.
Crossing over the dangerous parts of the hill gets easier each time I practiced going slow down the steep slopes. As I managed my fear, I noticed first aid people were busy transporting their sled onto the lift for those accidents waiting to happen. But for me, the fear of breaking limbs turned into a sense of achievement at every stride, adding up to a fun-filled afternoon.
Soon, thoughts of cooked spaghetti overcame me. It was a good time to get a drink with a lunch of fries and gravy. Every person in the lodge was looking as good as they could, with different colours of gear.
The best part of skiing is connecting with others, knowing their stories — their experiences — are different than mine.
At the end of the day my legs felt like spaghetti, but I was fulfilled, and, most of all, thankful to all those that helped me get there.