It was Valentine's Day this week, so you know it's been on
your mind. I mean it's hard to miss, what with all the Hallmark cards, flower
deliveries, chocolate hearts and hand holdin, smoochin, huggin advertisements
(please, don't gag on the memory).
I've got to admit, I'm not the holiday's biggest fan, but
this year, I've fallen.
Yes, I am in love.
HOW did this happen? You ask.
Let me tell you.
One
I broke the old
slalom skis I was using at the beginning of the season, which forced me to
set-up my new skis that have been sitting in my basement since I bought them
this fall.
Two
We got snow.
Three
I went skiing
on said new skis in said new snow.
This is when I realized: Me and the Mountain
=
Match. Made. In. Heaven.
Now, this was NOT love at first sight. I'm a terrible skier,
and while I've always enjoyed it, I've never loved it (Shh...don't tell
anyone). I mean, the whole, falling on my face, scrambling up slope for lost
skis, and losing sight of all my friends hindered our relationship for many
months. BUT, once I got on these new
skis, the game changed dramatically. Suddenly, I can ride over that choppy
crap, I can hold an edge, I can make a graceful turn (down a groomed blue run
anyway)...it's like...I'm almost a local!
Don't worry. I will still get confused for a gaper many a
time. I am certain.
But, the butterflies in my stomach, the late nights dreaming
of our next meeting, rosy cheeks and girly giggles...
...I have got it bad.
This year for Valentine's Day, the Mountain gave me powder.
 |
| It's true |
Screw the Odds, I'm going skiing.
