Pushing Past My Comfort Zone...

Every year, my husband's office holds a Christmas Party. There is always good food, great company, gifts for all and  three special prizes for three lucky winners. One prize is usually a gift certificate to a local spa, one is usually a gift certificate to a nice restaurant in town and the third and most coveted prize is usually a gift certificate for a trip.  The previous two years the grand prize had been a gift certificate to a cruise line, so we were hopeful that this would be our year to win the big prize. When the time came for them to pull the prizes, we crossed our fingers in anticipation. First was a gift certificate to one of the nicer restaurants in town. We didn't win that. Second was a gift certificate to the Red Door Salon and Spa. I could definitely have gotten into that present, but that also went to someone else. It was finally time for the grand prize! They had decided to do something a little different this year. This year's gift certificate was a trip to the Snowshoe West Virginia Ski Resort....hmmm, I had never been skiing and Chuck had not skied since he injured his knee. Perhaps this wasn't the year we wanted to win after all, but even as the thought flickered through my mind, I could see the President of the company turning towards Chuck and low and behold, we had actually won the grand prize! Well, any hesitation quickly turned to excitement! We had never won a prize that big before, and skiing or no skiing, I was sure we would be able to find something to do to have fun even if it meant just going for a weekend and cuddling in front of a warm fire together.

Rob with Charlie back from Afghanistan

So this past week, my daughter's boyfriend returned home after a six month tour to Afghanistan (Thank you Rob for your service!!!!). They live in a small apartment in Silver Spring, so they asked us if they might borrow the house for the weekend to host a welcome home party for Rob and 40 of their friends. It seemed the opportune time to get away, so we grabbed our gift certificate, packed our bags and headed to West Virginia. Somewhere along the way, we decided that we'd get Chuck a knee brace, myself some ski clothes and we'd try skiing after all. It just didn't feel right to go to a Ski resort and not go skiing.

 We arrived early in the evening on Saturday, checked into our suite, made arrangements for a ski lesson for the next day and headed out to pick up our ski equipment. The resort was designed so that almost everything was in walking distance and driving was discouraged. As we lugged the ski equipment from the rental center to our hotel, I realized pretty quickly that the work-out clothes I had packed would probably stay in the suitcase. We  were going to get plenty of walking in this weekend, on top of whatever other physical challenges skiing presented.

Snow Bunny

We had arranged for an early morning lesson, so we would have full day ahead of us. It was  snowing and in the teens as we made our way to the meeting point, but I was decked out in snow gear from head to toe and found I was surprisingly comfortable. I definitely looked the part of a snow bunny even if I had no clue what I was doing. We had to traverse a small bunny slope to get to our meeting location. I managed to make it to the desired point without falling even though I found myself feeling slightly out of control most of the way there. The lesson went very well and the instructor gradually eased me into more difficult traverses. I fell twice, but by the end of the lesson I felt empowered and was sure I could handle the beginner slope just fine.

We decided to take a hot chocolate break before heading to the new run which in hindsight was my first mistake. By the time we returned to the slope, the runs had filled with more people who were flying around us. The snow had gotten just a bit icier, as well, so I was having a harder time slowing myself down. As we approached the edge of the first incline,  I hesitated. This run looked a lot steeper than the bunny slope, but Chuck assured m me that it was not much steeper, so I went ahead and pushed myself forward. I made it about ten feet, panicked and fell. I struggled to get myself righted, but  I would get myself righted only to slide a little bit more. Every time I slid further I panicked a little more. Finally we made the decision to take off our skis and walk back to the top of the slope. I decided I needed to stick to the bunny slopes a little bit longer. As we headed back up to the slope sans skis, a concerned ski patrolman stopped to check on us. My husband nicely explained I was new to this and a little afraid. He suggested we try a different area that was better for beginners. We;d have to take a shuttle to it, but he was sure it would be a better place for me to start. 

She's up!

We headed to lunch first to allow ourselves a chance to warm up, but also the opportunity for me to settle down. Over lunch I convinced myself that the next run would certainly go better, so I was excited again by the time we hopped on the shuttle for the next area. This are was definitely less populated than the previous area, so I felt a little more comfortable that I could navigate around the other skiers a little easier. No sooner than I stepped on the slopes, however,  than I started sliding again. I just couldn't seem to get my ski's to do what I wanted. Instead of heading straight to the green slope we decided to hit the bunny slope again, so I could build up my confidence again. Unfortunately, this time I found myself more and more frustrated instead of empowered. Clearly skiing wasn't for me. I was a klutz after all; what had I been thinking!

I tried to convince my husband to go skiing with out me. I told him I'd go get a hot chocolate and wait at the lodge while he hit some intermediate slopes, but he wasn't giving up. He believed in me even though I didn't believe in myself. He nudged me to try the beginner slope just once. He told me that if after making one run, I still wasn't having fun, we would go back to the lodge together. I begrudgingly acquiesced even though I was secretly convinced that I was going to be severely injured by the time I got to the bottom.  I started down the slope, made it about fifty yards before I got startled by another skier and then careened to the left and fell yet again. By this time I was simmering with anger that I had let Chuck talk me into continuing.There was no going back up this time, only going down. Tears of frustration rolled down my face, and I was frozen in place. I knew I had to get moving or sit there and freeze to death.

Chuck patiently waited for me to calm down and build up the courage to go further. He promised to stay right with me while we continued down and assured me that he had my back; he would not let anyone run me down from behind. I took a deep breath and pushed myself forward. As I headed down the slope I tried to remind myself of what my instructor had said to me the first time we went down a steeper embankment, "Embrace the speed, don't fight it." So instead of trying to break my descent this time, I just let go and went for it. Surprisingly the more I let go, the more I found myself gaining a sense of control. By the time we made it to the end of the beginner's slope,  I decided I was willing to try the run one more time. One more time turned into two more times, and then three, and then more. By the last run, I was able to complete the entire run without stopping and was having lots of fun.

A Great Weekend Together!

At the end of the day, I had plenty of bruises, a sore shoulder, a stiff back and swollen knees, but I also felt a sense of accomplishment. I had pushed myself beyond my comfort zone and kept going. I'm not sure that I could have even attempted to try and ski a year earlier, much less been able to work past my fears and keep going after so many frustrating starts, but the past eleven months had helped to build my confidence, and my husband had been there to give me the gentle nudging I needed to keep going. I am grateful he was there watching my back, believing both in me and for me and, as always, holding my hand along the way.