Have I mentioned that I'm generally a big chicken? My fears range from reasonably common things (sky diving) to not as reasonable (bees...really all insects including flies if they catch me off guard) to really ridiculous (97% of my visits to WebMD). So trying new things that have higher injury rates than channel surfing tends to make me nervous.
I have wanted to go skiing before, I just haven't had an opportunity. This doesn't mean that I wasn't slightly concerned about falling and rolling down the side of the hill at such a rate that my ski or pole will get loose and go straight through my brain.
This weekend Lee and I finally hit the slopes (We went to Perfect North, if you're in the tri-state area and care.) Trouble started right away when I couldn't get my skis on, due to a combination of general weakness and afraid that applying pressure to my heel would cause me to slip and fall on my butt. Lee had to slam my boot into the ski himself.
Lee dropped me off at ski class and by the end of the hour I was feeling pretty good so Lee and I headed for the bunny slope. (Yes, I got nervous riding the ski lift. I really wish it had a lap bar.) After some hesitation at the top of the hill, I finally began my descent, intentionally falling at one point because I was going faster than I wanted and couldn't get myself to slow down (Lee said I wasn't pointing my skis up enough as I was turning.)
After this setback I headed back to the extra bunny slope (You know, that one that has the moving sidewalk to the top instead of the actual ski lift.) for two more practice runs before returning to the big bunny slope. There we stayed for the next two hours. Up and down. My confidence slowly grew and I got to where I was enjoying it enough to want to come back and ski again.
As night fell I headed back inside to my book and iPod so Lee could have a chance to do the more challenging slopes. All in all, I'm pretty proud of me and my skiing accomplishments, though small.