Now, I went into the snowboarding lesson fully expecting to be less than stellar. I'm endearingly clumsy, to put it kindly. Elementary school birthday parties held at roller skating rinks struck me with fear and dread throughout my childhood. I get nervous when I traverse an icy stretch of sidewalk, for heaven's sake. Balance is not my forte.
Apparently, once I strap a snowboard to (even just one of!) my feet, the effects of whatever inner ear issue I've been suffering from magnify in severity. I almost fell over while standing still and listening to the lesson instructor tell us what we were going to do next. Standing on the board and trying to move? Laughable. I was That Girl, unable to stop without falling over, but not before helplessly watching my snowboard foot travel in one direction and my free foot stay infuriatingly planted in place about three feet back. I threw in the towel after about an hour and a half on the mountain. (And I'm glad I did! Holy hummus, do I hurt! The hip adductor machine at the gym? Yeah, I feel like I spent about four hours on the thing. Clearly, I'm not used to dragging a piece of fiberglass behind me with my foot.)
Snowshoeing was much more my speed. As was good food and beer and fun conversation and the outdoor pool and hot tub, to be sure. But the snowshoeing was great. Two hours of wandering through wooded trails with The Awesome Boyfriend was so much nicer than the embarassment of displaying my clumsiness in the manner of an eighth grade gym class flashback.
... and the lack of falling allowed for the taking of pictures!
Snowshoeing ticket. Uber-official.
Single file
End of the trail! Injury-free!
2 comments:
Oh yeah, snowshoeing! I did that at my 6th grade camp. I remember that WAS fun!
Yeah! Snowshoeing is way fun! And it's really hard to get hurt.
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