A couple weeks ago my family took our annual trip to Whistler, British Columbia. Even though my husband was the one to fall in love with the city before me, I’ve come to really look forward to the fresh air and now, even the snowboarding. Let me take a few steps back…
When I first took up snowboarding it was on a whim, or rather a misinterpretation from my therapist. I was in my mid 20s, divorced, I moved to a whole new city leaving my friends and family and even declined a promotion to chase something I couldn’t quite explain to myself. I knew I needed help figuring out what I was going through so I found a therapist I really liked and we used talk therapy vs. medication. She recommended that I find something to commit to and stick with it. My husband (boyfriend at the time) wanted me to try snowboarding so on a whim I marched into a sports store, spent a ridiculous amount of money on all the gear and headed for the bunny hill thinking snowboarding would be the thing I could commit to. I like the outdoors, I’ve always been somewhat athletic and I’m a bit of a thrill seeker. What a mistake that was! Despite the beat up tailbone and bruises to my body and ego, I kept going. Then NMO happened.
When they tell you that you’ll likely never walk again or at least really struggle you either accept it or you make the decision to prove them wrong. I made the decision to walk in high heels again and still keep trying to snowboard no matter what. Even though I’d still qualify myself as a beginner because I just don’t have enough time to really practice, I’m still committed. Here I am, still toughing it out on the mountains.
I’m scared of heights and it hurts like hell. I mean, it really hurts, but this matters to me. Truth be told after the first minute my spine feels like it’s being ripped out from my neck and the pain gets worse throughout the day. And my legs, those useless pieces of garbage…ugh. So I get nervous and pep talk myself on gondolas, chair lifts and when I’m strapping on my board. I’m sure I seem crazy to everyone around me and I usually don’t disagree. But the ability to face my fears – of heights, of commitment, and of one day never walking again – when I get to the bottom of that mountain, that’s euphoria.
They say with snowboarding that one day it just clicks. I felt like this year it kinda did for me and right from the get go I was able to put together turns and do my dreaded toe turns without panicking and choosing to bail out. I’m wondering if with life that one day it just clicks for me too.
Here’s a sample of my scared rambling (you’ve been warned) just before I head down a new run. And another video showcasing my (lack of) talent.