I lived.

A year ago, I decided to create a new passion for myself.  After contemplating taking up art, photography, or intense winter running, I concluded that snowboarding was my answer.  It was new, I had a friend to go with, and it was a way I could enjoy the winters that feel so so long in Utah.  Thanks to my sister Paige, I was able to invest in a used snowboard for $30.  I got my boots on sale at Christmas for $20.   I have enough weekdays off of work, and I was a student last semester, so I got a weekday season pass this year for $150. Perhaps being raised in a garage-sale/thrift store mentality creates the excitement to share that, but who can't be impressed by such deals???  The funny thing is, that with such an "investment" in a season pass, I consistently feel the stress of having to use it.  I have to "get my money's worth" every day I don't work.  If I don't make it to the mountain, I feel this nagging sense of guilt... (probably something I should work on)

Last week, I decided to take Spencer up the mountain.  Being a Florida boy, he had never before seen snow in such quantities.  I realized it was going to be quite the experience when he asked detailed questions about the process of getting off the chairlift.  He mentioned a few times that he wished he had insurance, because he hates the feeling of being overly cautious with the thought of doing something stupid hurt yourself in the back of your mind. Despite his pre-activity stress, Spencer performed beautifully... especially after accepting that we really weren't going to visit the bunny hill. 

This week, I woke up on Monday morning with plans to snowboard.  It was a morning full of mindless accidents.  I didn't realize my friends were picking me up at 12 instead of 12:15.  I wasn't ready.  I couldn't find my clean socks. I couldn't find my coat.  I didn't know where I had put my pass.  I really really couldn't find my pass. I felt a little sick physically, and was about 10 seconds away from just having them go without me.  But I found my pass, and when bending to pick it up, I smashed my head against my window sill. I still have a bump beginning to change colors on my forehead.  I got in the car and realized I forgot my phone.  Oh well.  The clouds were hanging over the mountain, and I didn't want to miss an ideal day to use my pass.

I should have known from the beginning.  There were warning signs left and right, and they continued. It was raining.  The snow was slush. I felt like I had to learn how to board all over again.  I was falling when I shouldn't have.  I was getting soaking wet.  The friends I was with kept leaving me.  I was alone. I contemplated just heading to the truck, but I didn't even have my phone! What would I do? I knew I had to enjoy it or the day would feel forever long.  We headed to the back mountain, and the snow was a little more manageable there.  It was insanely windy, I was feeling more confident, and things were fun.  I was pretty excited, though, when it was time to head back to the front and get our last few runs in before heading home.

I was hesitant when I heard we weren't going to take the lift back... it was cat-track all the way.  I'd done that before... flat, flat, and more flat.  I remember saying I was in for any sort of adventure... little did I know.  Getting to the cat track, I knew going fast was key.  The faster I got, the more nervous I became.  What do I do?  How do I slow down? What do I do when I get to a curve?  Easy, just ride the board, relax, let the board and the snow work together.... but no need to self-talk any more.  I was suddenly in the process of flipping, flopping, head over heel, board on the snow, board on the sky, board on the snow, board on the sky...  what do I do? Just go with it.  Just be a rag doll.  Don't try to stop, or you might break something. At least I have insurance. Maybe it's stupid to have insurance. I would be more careful if I didn't. I hope someone is watching this.  When is this going to end? Board on the snow, board on the sky.... and then I finally stopped.  After getting my bearings, I realized that snowboards don't detach like skis do. Danger. I also realized that I didn't have my hat.  Or my hair thing.... both had flown off in my uncontrolled somersaults.  They were far far from me, and as I backed myself up, I kept thinking about how far I had gone and how thankful I was that I could move.  I had a really really rough headache, and could feel the muscles in my neck starting to tense up.  I saw the huge hole that nearly took my life, and was relieved that there was actually a cause for the pain.  I got up and rode the flat all the way back, skooching my poor broken body along the wet snow.  When we reached the bottom of the front hill, the rain was pouring down, and I finally verbalized my desire to be done.  No more.  Truck for me... and the others followed.

Today, my neck won't move.  Even the muscles on the FRONT of my neck are tender to the touch.  I have a sore throat and an ongoing headache.... but I'm ALIVE.  I can't express the fear I get just thinking about what might have been.  People break their necks doing that! People get paralyzed... people die! BUT, I firmly believe that you can't live if you're afraid you might not live.... so I'll continue the boarding.  I'll continue pursuing this passion. I won't let fear take over.  I just might watch for the warning signs next time :)