Sunday, March 3, 2013

Where the Magic Happens

WOOSH!  Hockey stop.  "Ahhh, sh*t!"  I wasn't just looking ahead anymore, I was looking *down* a steep pitch.  My heart started beating fast, I could feel my hands start to sweat in my gloves.  I looked around.  I reasoned that I could scoot back about 20 feet, and keep going down the easier slope I'd gone down before, or I could just... go down this one - this crazy steep looking (to me!) monster in front of me.  I thought back to about 20 minutes prior to the complete yard sale I had managed to pull out smack dab in the middle of a run, conveniently under a chair loaded with snowboarders.  Skis and poles scattered fast, I punched myself in the boob, and I skid for quite a distance.  When I finally stopped moving, I heard laughter, and it wasn't from the folks hanging overhead - it was coming out of my own mouth.  I had survived that (and actually managed to enjoy it?), so this should be okay... Right?  Still, I was scared.

WOOSH!  Hockey stop next to me from some random dude.  "You okay?" he asked.  
"Yeahhhh, I'm just nervous.  This one isn't like all the other steeper stuff I've been doing today."  (I mean, seriously - this pitch was nothing like the others! Just when I was starting to feel like I was getting better, this jumps in the way. What kind of cruel trick was Breck pulling on me?!)
"I guess they don't call it 'Shocker' for nothing."  
"Uggggh.  But this is the fastest way to get where I need to go; I don't want to have to go back that way," I said as I looked back over my shoulder to the continuation of the 'easy' run that I'd veered away from.
"Well, I'm gonna take it slow. I can go down ahead of you a little bit if you want, and make sure you're okay," he offered while pointing with his pole.
"Nah, I'm good. Thanks though!"

Off I went.  It felt like forever standing up on that edge, but in reality it probably only took about 20 seconds to make that decision.  I got to the bottom and turned around to look at what I'd managed to come down, and I gotta say: I was impressed with myself given my self-perceived limitations.  I'd just shattered them all by myself.  I thought back to my days literally c.r.a.w.l.i.n.g. down the Shirley runs, and thought, "I'd make those old Squaw runs my b*tch! Ah ha!"  My frozen chubby cheeks hurt from smiling so hard for the rest of the day, and I think I may have even puffed my chest a little bit.  I accepted a pole tap from Mr. Random Dude when he got down, and then took off to take another lift and run to meet my friends for a midday celebratory cocktail. 

Later, I went after a part of the mountain that someone told me was "scary," suggesting I couldn't do it.  And then I went back and did Shocker a few more times, just to prove to myself that it wasn't a fluke.  I'm still faaaarrrr from being an expert, and still slow compared to nearly all my buddies... but damn, it felt good.


Stepping out of my comfort zone just that one time, on that one edge, carried over for the rest of the trip.  The next day at Vail, our group made its way to the back bowls in blizzard conditions.  I'm a self-proclaimed princess, fair-weather skier who doesn't enjoy white-outs; I'm a blue bird kind of girl... or so I thought.  I blindly followed (literally, I couldn't see), and next thing I knew, I found myself in knee-deep powder (I thought I hated powder, turns out I don't!), freezing my toes and cheeks off, taking face shots and narrowly avoiding hitting trees through "glades" (at very slow speeds, don't you worry).  I ended the day completely spent and yet giddy and high on life.  

The next day at Keystone, I was one of three lone rangers who were hell bent on getting as much time on the mountains as possible (and a variety at that).  I looked at the map solely for purposes of figuring out which lifts would get me to the Outback, but paid no mind as to what was blue (love) versus black (still scary), groomed (love) versus moguled out (hate), etc., like I normally would have.  I just... went with it.  I had no idea where I was going or what I was going to encounter, and I had THE BEST TIME EVER.  Admittedly, I am pretty sure I have the Colorado snow to thank for my stellar time, but I still expect (hope?) I'll keep this fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants skiing up next time I hit up a Tahoe resort.

Why is this blog-worthy, you ask?  Well, skiing is just one (albeit huge) example of who I am now compared to who I used to be.  See, once upon a time, I was a girl who played it safe - in every way.  I resisted change and the unknown; I lived inside the box; I preferred the tried and true.  I preferred someone else lead so I could simply follow, and I wouldn't go after something unless it was a certainty.  As such, I never had to buy any risk.  Because I always knew what to expect, it was safe, it was comfortable.  Life was easy.  I was never challenged, scared, uncertain, vulnerable.  And you know what?  I was BORED (oh, God... so bored!) out of my ever-loving mind and, in retrospect, leading a pretty unfulfilling life.  I will *never* let myself get back to that place.    

Slowly over time, I grew up and evolved into who I am now: the gal with gumption who seeks adventures of all sorts.  Like Rome, I wasn't built in a day.  It was a slow process - baby steps of trying new things, challenging my personal status quo and letting go of former rules, and truly enjoying every minute of it.  I can't quite pinpoint when it all came to fruition, but when a friend challenged me to be the kayaker in her Eppie's Great Race team 10 days before the race when I'd never even kayaked before (I wasn't even sure I knew what they looked like - a canoe?), and the idea of "going through rapids" in a kayak, by myself, surrounded by people determined to beat me to the finish (they might poke me out of the way with a paddle and make me drown!), scared the sh*t out of me... and instead of laughing in her face, I accepted her challenge and did it, and despite getting stuck in a whirlpool had one of the best times of my life (at that point)... that's when I knew I'd truly changed.  That was the first time that it all just... clicked. 


Since then, I've stepped out of my comfort zone time and time again - from obvious physical feats, mental challenges, and professional endeavors, to being open and honest with my heart (that is, wearing it on my sleeve), spontaneous trips without a map or knowing if I have a place to stay, or something as simple as trying some crazy new food, and everything in between.  Some of those things I'm fairly certain you'd roll your eyes at, as they're really not that big a deal in the grand scheme of things.  But to me, each instance has produced great results simply because it's made me a little bit more excited about living this awesome life and what other awesomeness lies ahead... and it's each time I ski that I'm reminded of just that. That's why I love it so much! 

I guess the whole point I'm trying to make though is this:  Nobody ever feels 100% ready when an opportunity arises - whether that be facing a steep ski pitch, a potential promotion, a fledgling relationship, getting a dog or having a baby, buying a home, you get the idea - because most great opportunities in life force us to grow beyond our comfort zones, which means we won't feel comfortable at first.  Discomfort is necessary.  An otherwise strong and confident person actually needs moments of uncertainty and vulnerability to feel alive, to lead a fulfilling life, and to be truly happy.  It's where the magic happens.  Why not go out on a limb?  That's where the best fruit is.  I think, anyway (and Mark Twain agrees).



"You know, sometimes all you need is 20 seconds of insane courage.  
Just literally, 20 seconds of just embarrassing bravery, and I promise you, 
something great will come of it." 

In short, I've been doing my best to live by this philosophy as of late - and not just with skiing. Not even close. I've been living with insane courage. Potentially embarrassing bravery. I've really just... pushed the envelope. Put it out there. Shot from the hip. Dropped in. I hope I have the opportunity to do it again, and again, and again, because damn, it feels good.

The results aren't available for every risk I've taken, and until they are, I'll have to savor delicious uncertainty.  But if this past weekend is any indication, yard sales are often followed by some pretty sweet stoke.

Get after it, folks!

xoxo