Okay, before all you snow bunnies jump all over me, hear me out.
I am generally an inside girl. Well, no. Let me rephrase that.
I have almost no athletic ability. Also, I’m lazy.
In the summer I can sneak around and hide on the bench at my softball games, relax in the boat while everyone else wakeboards, or tell someone to go to hell when they invite me to the beach. I like climbing trees and adventuring, but it’s a hell of a lot easier to do when our city hasn’t transformed into one of the old popsicles that has been in the downstairs freezer since 2004.
My entire family is athletic, especially winter athletic. My mom can skate (girl skates, sassy shit), my dad plays hockey at least once a week, and my sister can skate AND snowboard. I’m not entirely sure what happened to me.
Again, before everyone loses their cool, I would like to point out that my lack of athletic ability has nothing to do with lack of effort. I lace up my skates at least once a year (I can skate backwards but have yet to learn those fancy stops where you swoosh snow everywhere). I think I even made it through eight and a half minutes of a ringette practice once when I was seven.
Oh, and my family also dragged me to Panorama for two of the worst Spring Breaks of my life (no offence, guys). Tried snowboarding, skipped the bunny hill ’cause I didn’t want to look like a baby, and didn’t break any bones.
Only my spirit.
One afternoon got particularly ugly when my sister, Alexis, was trying to teach me to carve. We spent like a solid hour with her trying to encourage me and me being a brat then finally getting up and trying to go on my toe edge and falling and face washing myself and getting angry and maybe swearing a lot and pouting for another ten minutes then trying again and…you get the picture.
Eventually she got sick of my attitude and whizzed away from me like a badass, leaving me at the top of the mountain (yes, we were still at the top) to fend for myself. I got myself together and started to snow plow (is that the word?) down the mountain and OH. NOPE. JUST KIDDING. RIGHT IN THE WOODS. Got a little out of control and skidded into the trees between the trails then crawled out like a paraplegic in quicksand because I’m not capable of getting my board off by myself. Cried the entire way down the mountain and spent the rest of the week in the hot tub.
BUT YOU CAN’T SAY I DIDN’T TRY.
Anyway, I’m looking forward to spending the next five and a half months by the fire with a glass (and by glass I mean bottle) of wine, my dog, and whoever else would like to join me.
If you’re one of those nutters that gets a thrill from freezing your ass off and hurling your body down hills and over rails and through pipes with your legs strapped to something stiff cutting your bodily control in half, you are a better person than I.
Remember to wear a helmet.
Me outside one time. When it was hot. This is as good as it gets.