Monday, January 28, 2008

Where I think I'm a 13-year-old boy...

First I start playing World of Warcraft, then I take up Guitar Hero III, and now I try snowboarding. What am I, 13 years old?

Snowboarding! What was I thinking? I have a sore tail bone that's been reminding me all weekend that it's been 25 years since I was 13.

Let me back up. We're planning a week-long vacation in Colorado. Doing the whole rent-a-chalet-for-a-week-with-friends thing. So, Kyle says: Why not snowboard? I'm thinking that it's been 20 years since I tried skiing, and that didn't go so well (big dramatic wipeout on an intermediate slope, which I only tried because it was the easiest way to get back to the lodge), so why not snowboard, indeed?

Kyle has been snowboarding half a dozen times. Dave has been twice. Both warned me that learning involves lots and lots of falling. It's just the nature of the beast. I'm prepared for that...

Friday evening after work, we head up to Wilmot in Wisconsin. I rent my gear, and because the last classes have finished for the night, Kyle takes over the post of instructor. We head to a mini hill in the beginner area (really, nothing more that a mogul, at best) and Kyle teaches me how to stand on the board and how to slide down the "hill" on the board. Evidently, all the workouts I do with a personal trainer are working, and I have excellent balance. I don't fall. Dave and Kyle say they are impressed.

Then Kyle shows me how to turn to the right. Gulp. OK.

I head down, try to turn to the right, overcompensate and fall backward. Straight backwards. Both feet strapped to a plank of wood, back straight, tail bone and head making contact at almost the same instant. It's a bone-jarring, knock-the-headband-off-my-head, hurts-like-the-dickens fall.

I rest for a minute, then a minute more. Shake it off, stand up, fix my headband, climb to the top of the "hill" and try it again.

My next two falls are a little better coordinated. I remember to bend my knees, at least. And these are in the forward direction, so I don't really hurt myself.

Now it's time for the tow-rope up to the beginner hill. I hate tow-ropes. They suck. Wrench your arms out of their sockets and all that stuff. I somehow make it to the top without wiping out on the tow-rope. Even better, I manage to snowboard to the bottom of the hill without falling, although I didn't do much turning at all.

Second trip up the tow-rope, again I manage to make it to the top without falling (although a few kids on the slopes seem to be having issues in that area). Amazingly, the second trip down the beginner hill goes better than the first. I don't fall, and I manage to turn myself a little bit. The guy operating the tow-rope politely agrees with Dave and Kyle that I'm doing really well for having been on a snowboard for only an hour. I think I fell all of four times total (another one snuck in there when I was just walking...).

At this point, Dave and Kyle decide they want to try the bigger beginner hills (which actually involve a chair lift), and I decide that it's best to quit while I'm having "fun". The place closes in an hour anyway.

So it's back to the lodge to turn in my gear and fortify myself after this grueling workout (it *was* hard work). After a while Dave comes tottering in, ice packs in hand. Turns out he had a major wipeout (lots of air and rolling involved) and his neck and wrists hurt big-time. Evidently, he needs to work on his turns also.

Somehow, we manage to make it home. Both of us feeling decidedly old and achy.

So, all weekend, Dave and I have been popping the Advil at regular intervals. I can't sit in any position that involves lounging (it's either perfectly straight in the chair or totally reclined, no in-between, because that hurts way too much). Dave keeps complaining about tingling in his fingers.

What happens when I walk into work this morning? Kyle asks when we're snowboarding again. And what is my answer? Well, it's not the resounding "No" you would expect.

Um. I think we're busy this weekend. And the next, too. But after that, maybe. By then the aches and pains may be gone, and I might be back to thinking I'm 13 years old again...

Pray for me. :-)

As for my other 13-year-old passions?

In Guitar Hero III, I've finished 14 songs on hard level, with my 11-year-old nephew informing me just this weekend that he's quickly catching up to me. Time to start practicing again.

In World of Warcraft? Lasaire is now a level-70 beast-master hunter on the Proudmoore server (Alliance). I'm saving gold to buy my epic flying mount, trying to get my leatherworking to 375 so I can make nether armor, plus working on getting keyed for Kara. Oh, and Kitty is still my best friend (the pet I first tamed at level 10). I've got alt-characters that include a level-10 mage and a level-10 druid (Alliance side) and a level-19 priest (Horde side). Unfortunately, I've decided that the next character I'd like to level is a priest, but I want to go Alliance, so I have to start over...

1 comment:

  1. As Beavis and Butthead once said - "huh, huh, huh - you're old."



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