I didn't grow up skiing... in OK, it's not really an option. And even when I moved out to Utah, I only tried snowboarding (twice, to be exact, and broken bones kept me from wanting to try that again). So when I married my husband, a life-long skier, it seemed like time to get back in the saddle. Of a different horse. You know, skiing instead of snowboarding. Which, turns out, I like way better anyway.
So this season was my second. And, you know me, I love setting goals. My husband suggested that I set a goal to hit a Black Diamond run by the end of the season. To which I promptly was like, "no way, how about I set a goal to be able to do any Blue on the mountain?" So that was the goal.
On our last day of the Blues-for-days season, the snow was awful and slushy... which was one of the motivating factors in wanting to finally try my first Black. Kip suggested it, and I immediately dismissed the idea... but it didn't leave my brain... and I decided, finally, to give in.
Funny thing about that run. It wasn't even hard. Once I got over the mental hurdle of knowing how much harder it was SUPPOSED to be, I actually just enjoyed it and it really wasn't any different from lots of other runs. Except how excited I was when I met Kip at the bottom :)
I think progress is like that sometimes. Mostly it's slow and steady, baby steps up the ladder... but sometimes it's a surge of "I can do this!" that motivates us to jump :)
Not that I ever want to jump like my husband. But whatever.
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