Remember several weeks ago when I wrote about how much I love skiing? Remember how I love the special time with my husband and gorgeous spring conditions? Remember the awful temper tantrum I threw on the mountain?
Oh, wait. That was yesterday.
I feel the need to make a public confession. I behaved very badly yesterday. Fortunately for me, Jonathan was the only person to witness my temper tantrum. Unfortunately for him, he was the only person around to suffer my wrath.
We got up early, excited to try a resort I’d never been to- Sugarbowl. Jonathan found $20 tickets on Craig’s List (love a deal!) and we drove up in the light rain and snow to the mountain. Conditions were not so great– the snow was chunky, wet, heavy. It was hard to see. I was a little cold. My leg cramped up. It was as as ifall the stars were coming together to create a prime moment of nastiness to appear.
And then, he took me on a run called Nancy’s Couloir. I’m not sure who Nancy is, or why she made her run so difficult, but I don’t like her. On Saturday, her run was covered in chunky, ungroomed snow that made it impossible for a professional skier like myself to handle. I don’t even think Pikaboo Street could have done it. In a matter of seconds, I lost my personality. I couldn’t turn. I could even do the pizza pie snow plow move that every kid masters in their first ski school class. I just stood. Frozen. Panicked. Annoyed. Wrathful. Soon, I found myself in a fit of frustration. Picture me, laying in the snow!! Hitting the snow with my hands like a child banging the grocery store cart when she doesn’t get her fruit roll ups. Picture me taking off my skis and THROWING them down the mountain. Then, because the anger was still there, I tossed my poles! For real dramatic effect, I tried to stomp after them (but naturally, in heavy snow, this just caused me to fall again and roll). Magically, no one else was on the run to witness my behavior. Most likely, everyone else was avoiding the run, because it was THAT TERRIBLE.
It takes a real strong man to not lose himself in this moment. I kept yelling at Jonathan to leave me. I was so embarrassed, but just couldn’t stop myself. I wanted to be abandoned to cry and be angry, alone, where no one could witness my behavior. But, he wouldn’t leave me. I love him for it, but I didn’t in that moment.
We got down the bottom eventually, and I took an hour alone at the Lodge to collect myself. I felt the need to do a little confessing to Jesus before moving on with my day… you would too if you’d acted that horribly.
We stayed a few more hours after lunch and Jonathan gave me some tips on how to ski in heavy snow. Turns out I wasn’t bending my knees enough and leaning forward. He noticed that in my fear, I became timid, literally holding my body back and which caused my skis to shake. No wonder I couldn’t get down the mountain early that day! Isn’t it amazing how much our FEAR can hold us back?
We ended the day, and possibly the season, on a high note. We’ve created this little trick that I named “Miller Magic”… it involves both of us skiing underneath each others legs. It’s very funny/awkward and we enjoy the reactions we get from strangers while performing out little show. On the last run, as I crouched down to slide through his legs, I got stuck!! And there we were, skiing full speed down the hill with me stuck in between his legs! Talk about awkward!