Double Blacks, Fear and the Like

Last week I had the joy of going skiing with my friend Karl, who flew out here for the week. As it turned out, we skied with a friend of Karl's, a friend of Karl's friend, and a ski patrol dude who was a friend of Karl's friend's friend. It was a great group to ski with; very talented, but understanding of my limitations also.

I didn't enjoy having my abilities pushed to the limits but I didn't want to spoil the fun, so I followed along as best I could. We skied through acres and acres of tight evergreens, cutting new lines through the deep powder. When not skiing in the steep forest, we would be zig-zagging down immense mogul fields. It was intense; more challenging than I thought I could handle, at first.

The second day was the breakthrough. One of the guys really wanted to ski a double black run, and everyone chided in enthusiastically at the idea. I did too, but outwardly. Silently, I wondered if I would be able to use my new insurance card at a local hospital. Nonetheless, the group started moving down the hill, and I with them.

(Karl skiing down the mountain)

I can't explain exactly how it happened, but I didn't fall on the 35 degree vertical moguls. I stayed on my feet through the trees and all the way to the bottom of the mountain. And I enjoyed it. The previous day of anxiety; falling down, getting back up, and pushing myself, paid off. I moved with rhythm through the moguls (not great rhythm, but workable); my skis started going where my mind told them to go.

It's an everyday battle to push myself to do what needs to be done. Comfort only makes things worse. But truly, whenever I am challenged and work hard through it, the payoff is sweet. The ski trip was another reminder of that, and of my need to ditch my fears about a lot of things.