Narrative Essay On Skiing

This part of the run is not difficult for me, which is good because my mind is already focused on the cliff that I know is about 100 feet down the ridge and 50 feet on my left (north). Waiting for my turn at the top, I had lots of time to sit and think about what I was about to do, igniting my nerves and adrenaline, making my body feel numb. I ski to my spot above the cliff, and the iconic House Rock looks like it always does, almost like a fifty foot diving board that will shoot you out half-way down the rest of the mountain. I stop right above the point of no return. I must choose to hit the cliff or not. There is no turning back once I move from this spot.

The coat of armor I adorned, made of down feathers and a nylon shell, yielded no protection against the daggers of that cold winter air. As I peered out toward the horizon, I saw nothing but tree tops, and some snow capped mountain tops in the distance. With my feet bound to freshly waxed skis, the only thing stronger than my ski poles was my determination to get down the mountain.

Recently, I challenged myself to ski the lone double-black diamond at my local mountain. While this may seem enterprising in and of itself, it was a distinct challenge on this day owing to the fact that it was my first time back on skis in nearly three years. Up until then, depression had thwarted me from enjoying my preferred winter pastime. At the crest of the slope, I peered over the precipice and knew it would be strenuous, that my legs could give out, but I went for it anyway. My run happened to be a messy one and I did indeed fall, but how else would I get back into skiing shape and improve if I didn’t first try?

I came to the first day of summer practice; I wore cheer shoes, a bow, and a full face of makeup. That day my coach looked at me and told me to run five miles, I thought I was going to actually die. By the end of the practice I had thrown up multiple times and repeatedly told myself never again. I had mentally and physically already given up, so I thought. During the next three weeks of summer practice I ran on my own, day after day of agonizing pain. I've never been one to give up, when things start to get tuff, that usually means I just have to get tougher. I came back the first day of actual practice ready for whatever was about to be thrown at me, again I was told to run five miles. This time I could actually keep up, I stayed with the girls on the team the entire time. The first race took place nearly three weeks later at our own home course, the only goal I had at the time was to not get last place. Everyone lined up at the starting line, anxiously swaying back and forth waiting for the wretched sound of the gun to go off. The gun finally went off and the race had begun. I started off in second place next to the fastest girl on our team, who was also the girl who had asked me to join

One month ago was the second time I had ever been snowboarding. The first time was nothing special. I merely taught myself how to repeatedly fall until your legs and hands are so cold you feel like one of your fingers could snap off at any moment. I would prefer not to recall that memory. The latter was the more enjoyable of the two and during this time I really began to understand the principles of this painfully limb-numbing sport. Each time I fell it was as if a teacher from the not-so-glorious years of the twentieth century had slapped a ruler against the top of my hand. It hurt a lot but after my proverbial hand had an imprint of inches one and two, I was finally able to piece together where I had went wrong in my inept technique. I corrected

The best thing to ever happen to me was when my parents forced me to join the Loon Mountain X Team. I was an adolescent 8th grader living in the cozy coastal town of Cohasset Massachusetts, knowing that my time in New England, which began when I was three, would soon come to an end as a daunting move to Texas loomed overhead. I knew I wanted to make the most of my 8th grade year, but as the dead leaves dropped from the trees, the idea of my faraway move to Texas ripping me from my home, family, and friends whom I’ve known for the past ten years of my life, sent me into a depression during that fall. However, I still had something to look forward to, skiing. I had been skiing on and off since I was five, and for the past two years, my family

My friend Ricky shove me right onto the ski lift and before I know it, I’m on top of the slope looking down and I just take a big sigh of fear. So I strap in my right boot and start going and before I know it I feel like I’m going 100 miles an hour but I’m too afraid to stop, so I just try to stop but my right leg won’t let me so I just fall and it feels like I just got hit with a brick. I have to get up, I reason and I’m so hurt, I can hardly even do anything. I finally make the first run, YAY!

Leading up to state championships my junior year I dreamed of standing atop the podium, and validating my years of hard work. The first day of competitions, I felt the nerves kick in before my banked slalom race. Riding on the chair lift and looking at the flags, jumps, and turns, my stomach dropped. Sitting on the lift I pictured two outcomes, one where I had the perfect run.The other where I stumbled the down the course, hardly making it across the finish line. At the top of the course I kept playing the worst outcome over and

This spring break I went to the Poconos in Pennsylvania, I did a lot of fun stuff, but what excited me the most was skiing, skiing was the most difficult thing I have done in a long time, we went to the Shawnee ski resort, and over there we rented out some skiing gear and went skiing, the first time I tried moving I fell right after, once I figured out how to move, I went up the beginners mountain and threw myself down for the first time, I was very scared when I first skiied down the beginners mountain, I did not fall, after a couple of times of skiing down I thought I was ready for the experts course. After I decided I was ready, I went to the chairlift, and the lift escalated real quick before I knew it I was about 50 feet above the ground

I stare down the foggy hill, I can’t see the bottom. My stomach begins to turn in circles, I have never been this scared to ski before. The rush of butterflies takes off as I do.

Once we had finally hiked our way up to the first resting point, my anxiety had gone away. In my mind, up to that point, the hike had been fairly easy. We all took our time to look around and drink our water and take pictures; my mom got slightly upset when I wanted to take one close to the edge. Once we were all ready to go again, it was time to start the unpaved or the scary part of the hike as I like to call it. Beforehand, I had researched the hike and

Snow skiing. The first day learning to ski is rough for almost anyone you ask. The day before my first ski trip, I could not help but wonder. Was I going to fall on my butt? Would I fall flat on my face? Would I make a fool out of myself? These were all questions that I knew I would soon get answers to. I had built up such intense feelings of nervousness and excitement that I could hardly tell the difference. All I wanted was to make it out alive.

Omg! I am going to have so much fun snowboarding! Today in my life I am at a super cool place. It’s in the UP and it’s called Ski Brule. It has all the snow hills you could possibly think about. I could never stop imagine me going down the hill and be so proud of me. But hopefully I don’t break any bones in my body. Because I still have basketball in the winter. But after I just took a soft energize nap. Then… We arrived. OM to the G! It was exactly what I imagined. The people gliding through the snow with their cool snowboards and their ski’s.

Saying that I was on the snowboarding and had never snowboarded before could be called a “setback”, but that may be an understatement. According to those on the team, it was a “major issue that cannot be resolved”, but for all intents and purposes, I’ll refer to it as a setback.

I’m soaring in the sky with the view of pure white mountains below with trees and small bodies of water surrounding the large rocks, I have my landing destination spotted in the distances, a spruce tree, but it will take me over an hour to arrive. I calculated the time it would take me to arrive at my shelter, but the wind is pushing me more and more southwest, making it extremely difficult to know how much time I will have before sundown once I land.