Due to me having a season pass to Meadows and feeling obligated to use it, we went up to the mountain on Saturday to put some time in on the snowboard.
Let me start this post over.
Due to the fact that I am a badass snowboarding queen, we hit the mountain to shred the rad on Saturday.
Where I continued to bash my body into the earth… over and over and over again. I slammed my head at least 3 times (hence the whiplash), and at one point I knocked the wind out of me so hard I thought I cracked a rib. While I am ever so slowly getting better, I still cannot seem to get a feel for the damn thing. I am far, far too timid. I’m quite horrible at all gravity sports, and yet I keep coming back to them. All my life I did the things that came naturally to me–arts, music, writing, endurance sports. They were easy, they flowed from me with little effort.
Hurling myself down a mountain, whether on a board or bike, is wholly unnatural to me. Every tiny improvement is a huge struggle. Is that a reason to abandon the cause?
Fuck. No.
I really want to give up, but I felt that way about mountain biking my first season, too, and now look at me. I hate that I am timid; I am, at heart, the Safety Officer. I really hate falling down. I am that person who keeps stopping at the top of a jump to look over the edge. It takes me a million years to jump into a cold lake.
For the last few years I have been on a mission to exterminate this fear for my personal safety and physical comfort. While I have made huge leaps forward, I am realizing at the end of the day, the fear is still there. I just have to consistently overcome it.
