first second day of December, and it seems like Mother Nature immediately turned the precipitation dial from “rain” to “snow.”
The first snowfall always produces the same reactions in me. I (finally) put on some socks. My attention shifts wholly towards activities like quilting, knitting, hot-chocolate drinking, and movie watching. I lose all interest in “work-related” activities like paper-writing, academic reading… leaving the house.
AND, I want to ski.
I don’t just go skiing. I would like to think I can call myself a skier. I think there’s a difference. Let me explain. Anyone can rent a pair of skis, stand at the top of a hill, and pray they don’t die on the way back down. I own my own skis, and for the most part, I’ve learned to control myself on them.
That’s the difference.
You see, I also own my own snowboarding equipment (I scored a sweet board, and boots for $50, a few years ago!), but I am not a snowboarder. I haven’t quite figured out how to translate my skiing skills to snowboarding. (If you want to have a good laugh, come snowboarding with me this winter!)
By the time I turn 30, I would like to be able to call myself a snowboarder. It’s much more efficient use of language to say “I am a snowboarder” than to say “I bought a snowboard for like $50 bucks a few years ago, but have only used it two or three times.”
Plus, it makes me sound tough, bad, hard, phat, extreme– or how ever the kids say it, these days! Regardless, I think this goal fits nicely with Oliver’s commitment to “extreme-sports-slash-life-in-general.”
What are some of the “extreme” things that you all want to learn?
Well, I’m off to shred some snow. Ride some powder? Hang ten?
I have a lot to learn.