Pain and Pride

First off, it's been awhile. I realize that it has been a long time since I last posted here, but I warned of that on my first post. I have quite a difficult time actually being able to put stuff - thoughts - into words, so I confess that I have to actually feel a bit of inspiration to write... and it has to be the right timing, because if I can't write it down when it's spilling out of my mind, I'll never get it back out later.

With that said, I do have some stuff to talk about. (Sorry Julie and Wendy. You know all this already so this won't be so interesting for you)

Pain and Pride: I'm in a lot of pain. A lot of pain. I messed up my ribs last Friday (the 23rd) on a snowboard in Lake Tahoe. You see, I haven't snowboarded in 12 years (I haven't ski'd in 10 years... since Jan 29th 1999 to be exact).

Anyway, all the guys kept telling me that it would be like riding a bike. "You'll be fine", they'd say. "Once you get up there, you'll remember everything." Well, I wanted to believe them. After all, I'm 29, not 50. I'm still young, and while perhaps a bit out of shape (ok a lot out of shape), I'm still young enough to rebound well.

There was something else going on, of course. See, Wendy is an incredibly loving wife. She's super protective, and like some others I know, she also assumes the worst will happen. I, on the other hand, always assume everything will go as planned. Anyway, she's never seen me in my "prime", back when I was very athletic. Just because I was in drama and the choir, doesn't mean I wasn't good at sports, Wendy! As a result, I often hear, "Are you sure you wanna do that? I'm just worried you'll hurt yourself."

To her credit, I didn't hear a peep out of her for this occassion... but you can bet that I believed it was going on in her head.

So anyway, I had something to prove.

We get up on the mountain, and for my first run, we go straight to the top. I get off the lift, and it was smooth and uneventful. "Horray, this will be easier than I thought." Then I started down the mountain.

Bam! first fall. No biggie. 30 yards later... Slip! Second fall. And so on and so on. I can tell you, I wasn't wasting much time getting back on my feet and bombing down the mountain again. Over and Over and Over. It wasn't pretty. Still, it didn't hurt too much, so I kept on. The guys were right! It was like riding a bike. I could remember all the moves...


...I couldn't however get my body to DO them. I had failed to think about the fact that these were muscles that had been unused in 12 years. As a result, I had 0 control. At one point, I managed to pick up quite a bit of speed, and turning to slow on my heel edge, caught the edge, sending my *cough* 203lbs. *cough* sailing through the air, face-down, head downhill.

Unfortunately, I landed with my elbow wedged between the ground and my chest. I'm not sure I've EVER had the air knocked out of me as severly as this experience. Let's just say that for 30-40 sec. I was vocally in distress, unable to breathe inward... even a tiny bit.

So that's it. First run of the day, 1/3rd down the slopes, and I'm done. I can't go on (oh, I DID... but it was pure hell). The adventure down is a long storry all on its own, and I own a great deal of gratitude to Kirk for hangin in there with me.

Anyway, I spent the rest of the day in the lodge. $60 lift ticket to sit in a lodge all day. Phooey!

So I'm in pain. My ribs, one week later, still hurt... and for whatever reason I've been sneezing and coughing FAR more this week than normal. God does have a good sense of humor.

I'm free of broken bones, but it sure feels like it.

So I learned 3 things on the mountain.

1) Pride really DOES come before the fall.
2) I'm not as young as I think I am.
3) I'm -surprisingly, as anyone who's a snowboarder will agree- MUCH better on my toe edge than heel edge. Strange.