Learning to ski was the best decision I Ever made, or.... at least my parents decision. I was 8 years old at the time and I was a very, very, very, shy child. Learning to ski was quite an experience for someone as shy as me. I remember looking out of the frost covered window and seeing pine trees blanketed with snow, thinking to myself what I was about to get into.

After 2 hours of anxious terror in the car, we finally arrived. I looked out the of the window and saw what looked like what white walls, but were actually trails. Getting out of the car, I felt like all the slick skiers eyes were on me. I exhaled, watching my breath looking like smoke from a dragons mouth. I repeated this for a few moments mesmerized by it until it was time to head inside. I stuck close to my Mom's legs as we walked through the building to a table. At this table there were kids smaller than I, who I realized were covered in snow. I gaped at them behind my mom, wondering if that's what I was to become, a snow covered monster child. I loved snow there was no doubt about that, but skiing gave snow a new purpose that I was yet to discover.

One thing I remember clearly was putting on those shoes that they call ski boots. They felt like rocks on my feet. I tried walking forward, and immediately noticed that I couldn't straighten my legs. I started freaking out and tried walking to my mom but instead of walking I just fell on my face. The ground was cold and hard, before I knew it some man yanked my up and I was on my feet again. At this point I knew I was doomed, I couldn't even walk in the stinking ski boots.

After many attempts at walking, we finally got outside. My feeling of triumph was short lived after discovering the hill we were going to ski on. After 15 minutes of struggling to get my skis on, it was finally time to do the thing that we went there to do. Ski. I shuffled over to the rope that would pull me up the hill. Going up the hill was kind of fun. As soon as I got to the top I shuffled away from the rope to keep myself from decapitating the other people on the rope. I looked down at the hill and immediately fear punched me in the stomach. I sat down at the top of the hill and simply started crying. Trying new things for me was very scary, I hated it as much as I hated being social.

The simple fact for me was, I was NOT going down that hill. My teacher was far behind me, and I didn't want to cause her any trouble, so I proceeded to try to take off my skis and walk down the hill, but that didn't work. I couldn't get my skis off, so I just laid there in the snow. I could feel the coldness of the ground start making its way through my clothes. This didn't affect me at all, I just continued to lay there and hope no one would notice my existence. Eventually my teacher got there, and she deeply questioned me I'm sure, but all she did was stand me up and tell me something I'll never forget "You never just give up because things look hard okay?" I considered this and decided not to protest about skiing.

The first three runs were the same, just keep your skies in a V to stay in control, I didn't really mind skiing. Then we went up to the top of the Mountain, and went down the trail named "Easy Day", going down this trail was when I discovered my love for skiing. I have been skiing for about 4 years now and I absolutely love it. Skiing has given me a purpose in life and has brought me much joy.