Posts Tagged ‘snowboarding’

Those words actually came out of my buddy’s mouth yesterday. It kinda sums up the intensity he brings to the mountain. The comment might have shocked me, but the guy had already tricked me into riding my first real Black Diamond trail.

Yeah, seriously, he tricked me. Amid his pre-ride coaching I promised to give a Black Diamond a go before the end of the day but requested a slow start.

“Let’s start on an easy one. Ok? An intermediate slope?!”

“Sure, let’s go this way.” As he disappeared over a hill. Ummm, not an easy one!!!

But I have to give the guy lots o’ credit. If I had known I was riding it, I probably would have let my nerves get the most of me. High-five Gross-man for the manipulation. Well respected. It made me want to go back for more. So I did… and I ROCKED IT!

Look! See? Me rockin’ out:

I rocked it one and half times… one and a half times before I ate it… wiped out on my booty…

and kept on sliding…

and tried to ride out the momentum and get up mid-slide…

annnnnd… sorry, I dont have anymore screenshots to show the next slick move. But let’s say as my cameraman flew past me, I continued to gain speed, and when trying to pop back up into a standing position I caught the front edge of my trusty Troop and dove chest-first downhill into the hard-packed snow ahead of me. Since my hands decided to sit this one out, my full weight landed on my right rib cage, creating a sweet crunching sound… and knocking every molecule of air out of me. (Does air travel in molecules? I need a scientist to weigh in on this one.)

If I could get the video plug-in on WordPress to work, I’d air Gross-man’s monologue about my disappearance — its entertaining. But alas, too difficult for my half-conscious mind.

Currently my body is demanding a state of immobility out of fear of moving through a position that is going to trigger excruciating pain to rocket through my nerves and make my stomach nauseous. Not fun! The Stratton first aid clinic thinks I’ll be a-ok if I lay off the moving around and lay on the ice. But I think Im gonna get a second opinion from an x-ray machine.

This really dampens my half-marathon training, but as crazy as it makes me sound, it was so worth it. SUCH A RUSH!

I dance on my snowboard when I’m chuffed with my runs!

Thanks for the runs and the fun camera work Gross-man.

Sidenote: I had bruised ribs last time I rode Stratton Mtn with my ladies. And that was a dancin’-good time also!

Anyone have any advice for possibly cracked ribs?? 


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Every year my birthday gets me down. I always spend weeks hyping it up, talking as if I’m a big deal, and then the day comes and my smile fades, tail stops wagging, and I shut the F up.

I have no idea why, but without fail, I fall silent at turning another year older…
Until 2010.

On Saturday I turned 28. Twenty-eight officially puts me in the late-20s range, one step closer to the what-is-supposed-to-be-dreaded number 30. Thing is, I’m kinda looking forward to 30. I’m not looking forward to aging for the obvious reasons of progressively more violent and intolerable hangovers, and slower response time and less agility when throwing myself down a mountain… but I’ll fight it… mind over matter, eh?

I’m looking forward to it because they say your 30s are the best years of your life. Who says this? You know, “they;” the collective undefined group we attribute claims to when we have no valid reason for stating whatever it is we are stating.

Well, I believe “they,” and for good reasons, too. 1) Actual people whose opinions I respect have supported this statement. 2) And my intuition says, “30. good!”

But hold on: I’m getting a bit ahead of myself here. This weekend was 28, and possibly one of the best birthdays I ever had. And again, for good reasons.

It kicked off with happy [six] hours. I once again collected those from all facets of my life that I hold near and dear to celebrate with me. The most difficult part of the night was trying to explain how everyone was connected.

Saturday I headed up to VT with the girls—JMay and Triple A.

Saturday Night: Vermont. Cherry Vodka. Brownies. Hot tub. ‘Nuff said.

(Side story to fit the NaBloPoMo theme of “strangers:” Sitting in the hot tub amidst piles of snow with drink in hand, I thanked SBing-CG for his hospitality and declared that the weekend was owning up be one of the best birthdays ever. At the time I was sitting in the hot tub with SBing-CG and two ppl who up until two hours earlier were essentially strangers. Yet, new people, new energy, all good. (And yes, since my book apparently isn’t writing itself, I’m NaBloPoMo’ing again to try to kickstart the habit.))

Sunday: Stratton. Snow. Snowboard. No more fractured bones. Good day.

Car ride home with JMay and Triple A… bringing us to up near 10 hours of road-trip QT time.

Being absolutely spoiled rotten by JMay and Triple A.

All in all, it was a great time, great weekend, fabulous company and top-choice activities. What more could a girl ask for…

Happy Birthday to me! 29 here I come!

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The only thing that annoys me more than Hallmark holidays created for the sake of making money off unneeded gift items, plumping up participants on chocolate and invoking some sort of emotional reaction… is those that buy into it. How does being alone on Valentine’s Day differ from any other day? If you don’t want to be sad and depressed about it… then don’t be! Easy as that!

With that said, I intended on spending Valentine’s Day how I would any other Sunday in a winter month—or any day after a blizzard for that matter—on a mountain!

Long, and not necessary, story short, my weekend in the snow turned into a weekend in the city. And while I would have been happy ending the big V day with bruised knees and a bit of whiplash, the company that I enjoyed was much warmer than the snow. 🙂

Maybe it was because I had already chosen not to treat Valentine’s Day any differently than any other day of the year, maybe it was because I’d have ended the day with a smile on my face no matter what, or maybe I was just lucky… but that lil fat baby seemed to think I deserved a bit of red glittery Hallmark sparkle in my Valentine’s weekend. And I got it… not literally red glittery Hallmark sparkle, but a form of pleasant and enjoyable human interaction… but kinda in a Hallmark red sparkly way, sorta… well, no not really in that way, but it seems that everything has a red——oh whatever, you get my point.

And since it was a three-day weekend and cupid kept me busy on the big V to the Day, I spent Monday honoring our dead presidents by throwing myself down snowy steep landscape on a long piece of fiberglass and wood…

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