It bugs me that I can't snow ski. I don't know why but it just does. I grew up in Mississippi. Skiing was something I only saw on television. I remember hearing stories from the rich kids while I was in high school. Their parents would take them to the slopes in Colorado during spring break. I listened to these kids share stories about how great it was to go skiing. I was jealous. I wanted to ski too.

Last year, at age 41, I put on my first pair of skis and spent a day in ski school. I was off to a good start until the end of the day. I went down a slope and landed on my face. I walked with a limp for 8 weeks after my fall.

I went back to the slopes this past week. Determination to ski overruled my fear of injuring myself. No more ski school for me. This time my husband was my teacher. My first fall happened as we left the chairlift. Luckily, it didn't hurt too much. I fell many times afterwards too. Fortunately, I quickly learned to strategically fall on my butt. Falling was not so bad. Getting up was torture. It almost seemed impossible at times. After falling about twenty times, I was beat. On day two, I didn't fall as much but I was tired and sore from day one. I lasted as long as I could.

The chairlift really scares me. I love riding it. Getting off is the challenge. On day two my husband and I started to get on the lift and I panicked and froze. My husband was whisked away without me. I watched him sail up the mountain alone. The guy at the chairlift shoved me onto a chair. I told him I didn't know how to get off the chairlift. The guy had mercy on me and said he would ask the operator to slow down my chair once it reached the top. I was doubtful. As I approached the dismount point, a guy slowed down my

chair. I was ecstatic. "Thank you! Bless you!" I yelled. The guy looked at me and said, "did you just bless me?" I replied, "Yes, yes I did! Thank you!" Apparently chairlift operators in Colorado do not get blessed very often. My husband coached me from afar. "Keep the wedge! Keep the wedge! Keep the wedge!" I kept the wedge and it was great to finally leave that lift without crashing.

After two days on the slopes in Colorado, I returned to my home in Mississippi. I didn't make as much progress as I wanted to but I am glad that I tried. At least this time I fell more and hurt myself less. For some reason, this pleases me.

Goal: By the time I am 45 years old, I will be able to ski down the greens and blues with ease and confidence. I will not stop trying. I will get there eventually.

Folow up: I'm 43 years old and can now ski down the greens with ease. Next year I tackle the blues!

What I learned: It's never too late to do the things you have always wanted to do.

My wish for you: Follow your urges and go for it!

(c) 2006 Beverly Keaton Smith

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