After skiing for 20 years, I decided that I wanted to learn to snowboard this year. I did this for a couple of reasons: although I loved to ski, I was always a bit curious about what all the rage about snowboarding was about; many of my friends had 'converted' from skiing and said they would never go back; the equipment is a whole lot more comfortable; and I thought, learning something new would be fun. Plus, Christian said he would do it too so I thought it would be something neat for us to do together.
Everyone who snowboarded warned me that the first few days would be spent pretty much exclusively on my a**. Over New Year's weekend, we took a group lesson and after the lesson was over, it took 45 minutes to get down one of the bunny slopes. But I guess because I had been so conditioned to expect so little, the day was mostly enjoyable. After being rained out the rest of the weekend, we were back on the mountain with our friends Ryan and Tom, who were both just learning as well. It snowed all day, so anytime I fell, it was like falling into a pillow. After a few trial runs on green dots (that's the easiest slopes) and not falling much, we were collectively emboldened to try some blue squares (intermediate). I really felt like I was catching on, and was hooked.
Well, 2 months went by, and for one reason or another, we didn't make it back up to Tahoe until this past weekend. I knew I'd be a bit rusty, but expected to pick right up where I left. Um, not quite. Getting off the lift became the terror it was on the first day, I couldn't go more than a minute or so without falling, and couldn't even get close to riding on my toes. (To non-snowboarders-- the idea is to go back and forth between riding on heels and toes) We decided to take another lesson and ended up with Bibi, an instructor whose accent was so thick, I could barely understand her. It didn't help that Christian picked up what she was teaching quickly and I just couldn't get it. Bibi kept barking empty praise at me that I finally had to tell her 'I need a minute' to get her away from me. After the lesson, we did one more run and I sorta felt like I sorta was getting it, but overall, the day was a wash. I left the mountain pretty disgusted. I was so frustrated that I wanted to turn in my snowboard and get skis for the next day-- I just wanted to know what the hell I was doing.
Alas, I didn't swap my board out for skis and it was back to the mountain on Sunday. After a first few couple of rough runs, something changed. I was able to be up for a bit longer and I was starting to actually get it. Of course, there was still a lot of falling-- a lot of falling. But I was getting the feel of what it's like to ride on your toes and get the "S" turns. Yes! So then what do we do? Follow our bonehead friend Peter up to a run called Siberia Express. It was a crazysteepnarrow run that we had no business being on. After a brief freak out and throwing some expletives at Christian (sorry, honey), we somehow got down the hill. But over the next few (less steep) runs, the feeling was there again. Awesome! We stopped for lunch and were back out on the mountain. After each time I fell, I could stay up a bit longer and carve longer. However, at this point, even though my brain was totally in the game, my body said no. After 2 long days of falling and falling and falling and twisting in ways I didn't know it could, I was done. As we walked off the slope, I felt good about the improvements I had made and can't wait to get back out there again.
I think our culture of immediate gratification has taught us to expect to master things right away. Any software package I open or website I go to, I feel like I should be able to get right away. I felt like after a day or two of boarding, I should be as good as I was at skiing. Well, it didn't work out quite like that, but I think I'm okay with that. It's an important lesson to remember - learning can be fun again.
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