“I don’t really need to do it.”
As soon as I thought those words, I knew I had no other option. If it wasn’t for Do I Really Need To that I wrote in January, I wouldn’t have been looking down the steep face of a Black Diamond run. (Perhaps I should stop reading my own blog posts?) I was confident, on the whole, that it would be a successful run. After all, I was in middle school when my best friend, Kim, and I skied down Hemlock for this first time. So, I didn’t really need to do it. Or, did I?
In middle school, Kim and I, along with just about everyone from our school, were members of a ski club. We spent every Friday night fighting off frostbite resulting from refusing to compromise our ski bunny looks. It wasn’t cool to zip up your coat or wear a hat at a ski resort in the 80’s. Being a ski bunny didn’t confine us to the bunny hill though, we raced, jumped, did tricks, took illegal trails and did our best to do whatever the boys did.
However, up until three years ago, I hadn’t skied since 1997 when I lived near the Pocono Mountains. I’d even forgotten I owned skies. We had shoved them into the attic for storage when we moved to Illinois in 2004. By the time we rediscovered them, they were deformed and delaminated. Luckily, I’ve been able to accompany my son on the Boy Scout annual skiing trip for the last three years. I’ve gone from a weekly skier to a yearly skier, on rentals no less. Let’s just say 12 year old me can ski circles around the 42 year old me.
Yet, 42 year old me had an advantage. I already knew I could ski this black diamond. And, this time, skiing the black diamond wasn’t to impress 6th grade hottie, Dave Scalpone. It was to impress upon myself that life is still full of opportunities that I won’t regret pulling off.
At the end of the night, after skiing the black diamond several times, racing from one ski run to the next and traversing the icy hill at eye watering speeds, I gushed to another parent,
“I am 50% exhausted and 50% exhilarated!”
That’s why I really did need to do it.