As my wife pointed out, I am 40 43 years old, and I still ski, a lot. Saturday, while skiing like a 16 year old, I took a spill. Not just a quick fall, but a nasty one. I went from 30 miles an hour to 0 in no seconds flat after catching my ski on a tree root buried under the snow. Being under the chair lift didn’t help, as I was serenaded by catcalls from above.
As I scampered to put my skis back on and limit my immediate embarrassment, I couldn’t help but chuckle, thinking that I owed the mountain something for all that joy I had recently cashed in on. For I had just completed several circuits of the same secret stash – all the while screaming like a kid, and smiling like a fool.
I woke up Sunday morning, feeling as if I had been hit by a car. My ribs are achy, my head hurts, and my knee is gimpy. All around, I wish I was dead. Now it’s Tuesday, and while my knee is better, my ribs hurt even more. I feel crummy.
So today, while I gobble Ibuprofen (thank you modern chemistry for that miracle), karma has reminded me that joy must sometimes come with sacrifice. There is a yin to every yang and everyone must pay. I remember the unadulterated joy of flying through the snow Saturday as vividly as I remember stopping so quickly on my head.
The crash, while painful, is the natural result of taking chances, having some fun, and throwing caution to the wind – every once in a while. I intend to temper my childish skiing activities in the future. I am getting old you know. I will have to be a bit more selective in my adventures.
I think I’ll sneak up that hill over the summer though, and dig out that stupid tree root… so the next guy will hopefully get all the smiles without the cracked ribs to show for them.
That’s gotta be worth a few karma points.
0 Responses to “Crashing”