Do you ski?

Whenever the topic of snow or mountains comes up I often hear people ask, “Do you ski?” I have never really known if I ski because I had only been once when I was 12 with my best friend’s family. I can barely remember what it was like but I remember being cold and standing around (maybe I never actually went down the hill). When Matt and I decided to go to Colorado this past weekend for V-day and his Birthday, the plan would be to spend two days in the mountains so Matt could ski; it’s his favorite thing. The original plan was he would ski and I would get a massage and hang out at the lodge (sounded great to me). As time went on I had this nagging feeling that I should try to ski and see if I enjoyed it. I thought it would be cool if I ended up enjoying an activity that Matt loved so much so we could share those times together. I also felt that I should challenge myself and do something I hadn’t really ever tried. I came home from work one day and said, “Matt, I am going to ski too!” He was excited about my enthusiasm and he booked our lift tickets; it was set in stone.

Matt has his own ski gear that he brought with him but we knew I would have to rent my gear. Can I just say something- why is there so much fricken’ gear to slide down a mountain?

I had these boots on and you can’t straighten your legs when you stand so it’s like you are about to sit on the toilet the whole time. You walk like a dinosaur tromping around while your ankles are throbbing. I had to carry the skis over my shoulder and the poles in my opposite hand. I felt like I was a pack horse slugging over to Death Valley, except it was freezing. Matt was very patient waiting while I stopped to huff and regain my strength. We arrived at the bunny hill filled with 3 year olds who looked excited to hop on the lift. Matt taught me how to insert my boots on the skis and I felt like a transformer going into battle. It just doesn’t seem normal to have these long, skinny, paddles attached to your feet trying to go up a little incline. I felt so amateur. There were literally 3 year olds flying down the hill and I could barely get courage to go up it. The lift wasn't even a real one; it was this pole you put between your legs to pull you up the smallest slope in the world. Once I got to the top I froze..not froze like temperature but froze like what the hell am I doing on top of this hill. In fact, I started sweating profusely. I jammed my poles into the snow and told Matt I couldn’t do it. He was a saint. He was so patient and I felt bad because I knew the whole time he could be flying down the hills instead of being stuck with me. He patiently explained how I was supposed to go down the hill and that I needed to make giant S’s I couldn’t get my inside leg to turn and my skis would end up crossing each other. I didn’t want to point straight down because then I knew I would pick up speed and plummet to my death where all the 3 year olds would laugh at me.

I finally got down the mole hill and then I went again. The next time I felt confident and picked up some speed…I cracked a smile.

Matt told me he was really proud of me and it made me feel good and even more confident. I said, “Let’s go to a bigger one”. I was thinking the one right next to the mole hill which was like two mole hills but Matt said, “Let’s take the real lift”. I guess my memory was suppressing itself because when he said that and I looked up I suddenly remember what happened when I was 12. I got on the lift and when getting off I was trampled by the people after me…I didn’t get out of the way fast enough. I started sweating and hesitantly agreed. We got in line and I had total anxiety about where to go, how to sit, when to get up….not falling off the lift when we were 30 feet up. I kept telling Matt, “I can’t believe they don’t have seat belts; how is this legal?” I could see the end of the lift and my heart started pounding. Matt said, “Okay just stand up when I do”. Stand up when he does, stand up when he does, stand up when he does. I stood up and went flying down crashing into Matt. Luckily, I never fell getting off the lifts (although I came really close). We went down some bigger hills and you know what, for about 15 minutes I actually had a great time.

I told Matt we needed to find food because I was getting hangry so we skied over to the little restaurant in the mountains. Again, tromping around like a T-Rex trying to find a place to sit, we chowed down on pizza and salad. I kept telling Matt, “There is too much stuff to wear in skiing and we have to lug all this crap around. I am more into sports where I am free and just jump in- like swimming” (because I swim all of the time- not-).  I was feeling guilty that Matt was spending all the time with me, the snail, so I forced him to go on bigger slopes by himself. I sat in the lodge and people watched. I just can’t believe how many kids ski. I think they are so successful at it because they haven’t developed that fear of falling and injuring themselves. I kind of wish I could get that freedom of fear back. Matt got back and we decided we would do one last hill and take it all the way back down to the village. We would be taking the ‘easy’ route and jumped up on the lift to head up. While on the lift I noticed we were going a lot higher than I had envisioned in my mind but I kept my calm. I had ended on a more confident note with the last slopes so I wasn’t really thinking too much of it. We got to the top and oh.my.god. It was one of those hills where you look at it and you can’t see the end- like it’s not a hill; it’s a circle. I crept up over the edge and literally panicked. Again. 3 year olds flying down. I hated them. I hated them for making me feel like a small little weasel. I told Matt, “There is no way I can do this”. I must have sat at the top of that hill for 15 minutes just standing there. My mind was racing; I was like a trapped rat. I knew I had to get down but I knew I couldn’t do it. Thank god for Matt and his patience and willingness to wait with me. He said, “Just follow what I am doing and we will get down together”. He said, “Pretend you are on the bachelor and this is a testimony of your love for me”. He was literally digging deep to get me down this hill. I crept down the first hill and then at the bottom of it I fell; for. the. first. time. I started crying. I wasn’t crying because it hurt but because I felt so bad for myself. I couldn’t get up and I was laying in the snow and I just wanted to be by the fire in a warm cozy bed. I was feeling so pathetically sorry for myself. I was also mad that I couldn’t suck it up and participate in an activity that everyone else around me seemed to love. People were flying past me laughing and yelling to their loved ones about the route they were taking next. What was wrong with me? Matt helped me up and then I looked down to see rows and rows of circle steep hills and I cried even more. I told him, “I can’t do this. Get me a worker on a snow mobile to take me down. I only wanted to ski so you would like that I wanted to ski too and you would be happy and love that you had a wife who skied with you. I never wanted to do this. I am in hell right now”.  I was being really dramatic. I lost it. I was literally freaking out and panicking. I stood at the top of the next hill for about 20 minutes and then Matt talked me in to following what he did to get down. It took about 2 hours to get down the hill and I stopped about 5 times to cry.

Whenever I am feeling like I need more confidence in my life I will look at pictures of Nicholas Cage. I always say, what would Cage do? I love him and he is always so bad ass in movies. Matt told me on the mountain, “Cage would be shredding these slopes”. He was right. Even Cage couldn’t save me from this fear. It was really sad. I kept telling Matt. “Go without me I don’t want you to waste your time with me”. He never left me once and he got me down the mountain.

Afterwards, we went for drinks and our waiter asked, "How did you do with skiing"? I laughed and said, “Well I guess I hated it. I don’t like heights and I don’t really like going down them at a fast pace”. He looked at me confused like, 'why did you think skiing would be for you then'. Ha-ha. He also said it’s a known fact that skiing can ruin relationships if your significant other tries to teach you. Matt and I laughed about it but after I thought if anything it had brought us closer. I wanted to ski to make Matt happy and he recognized that. I recognized that even at my worst Matt will always be patient and stay by my side. We appreciated each other for our efforts but at the end of the day we know that we don’t have to enjoy everything the other person enjoys and that is okay. While we were outside by this fire pit Matt stepped away; when he came back he told me he booked a full body massage for me to enjoy the next day.

They rubbed me down with lavender and put hot towels on my feet- it was perfect. I got Matt another lift ticket so he could ski while I got my massage and he said it was a perfect day with soft snow. It all worked out in the end.

 Now when people ask, “Do you ski”? I casually say, “Eh..I dabbled in it for a bit but I prefer activities where my body isn’t drenched in gear…. You know, like swimming”. 

Are Dogs Like Children?

I am pretty sure it drives most parents crazy when they hear a non-parent person say, “Well, I have a dog so I am pretty prepared to have a child”. I always try and watch my surroundings or see who I am with before I make this statement. Having many friends with kids I know that when I jokingly say this I am not actually completely confident that having a dog will make me a good mother. I can put my dog in a crate and go to Rite Aid for two hours while I browse the ‘As seen on TV' section and I am almost positive that wouldn’t make for a good parent. I do have to pick up their poop and sometimes I wipe the bottom of their feet which would be like wiping a babies butt…but then again, maybe not. I think that maybe in the beginning when an infant sleeps a lot of the time, that it will be like Oscar and Diego napping for 18 hours out of the day while I lay on the couch and watch Seinfeld…but maybe that won’t be the case. I take my dogs to a dog park and there are other dog parents there and all of our dogs run wild and stand around peeing and pooping. We all yell their names when they wonder too far and sometimes they don’t listen…why yes there are those similarities.

I think people say this because at that point it may be the closest thing they have had to so much responsibility for someone else’s life. I feel like Oscar and Diego are my children at this point in my life because they are the ones I worry about getting sick…or getting hurt. I worry that they may not have food in their dish and that they need fresh water. I worry that they get cold at night or that they get lonely when I am away. I buy them toys to make them happy and I feel content when they look cozy. Until I actually have a kid you might catch me slipping up and saying my dogs are my children and that I am already well prepared. Please do not hold this against me when I am a parent complaining about the people who have dogs who think they are already parents because really it’s all relevant, right?