Ever since I was little, I enjoyed skiing, I learned skiing when I was little, about 3 years old. I remember my parents taking my two sisters to ski in Colorado during the long cold winter.
And by the time I graduated from high school, I was able to slide the zoom down style and turn around black diamonds without fear of any difficulties.
But then I gradually forgot that hobby. My parents were no longer excited about skiing, my friends didn’t play that game either, and the annual winter breaks I used to work.
As I got older and growing afraid of the cold, I became afraid to go out in contact with cold snow instead of staying in a warm home with a sweater, a little fireplace and enjoying a hot chocolate, for until the spring sunshine started to melt, melting layers of snow a meter thick. Or sometimes when it starts to snow, I will flee to tropical lands to enjoy the warm sunshine instead of going to the mountains.
Over the past two years, a friend of mine named Ryan wholeheartedly asked me to go skiing in Colorado, at Keystone Resort, although I tried to refuse. “I’m abroad!”, I reasoned. But then I had no reason to refuse, so I finally nodded. After buying loads of things to stay warm as if I were going to Antarctica, I took a flight to Colorado.
The feeling of skiing for the first time in 11 years is strange, but also interesting.
At first it was pretty bad, I couldn’t stand on the snowboard, but then I got used to the gliding and the uneven roads. In the following days, I had a few excellent performances!
The first day I had to hire a ski instructor and also fell several times. But it turned out that those falls were just normal, because the next day was really a terrible day. When I was sliding down the mountain slope, my skateboard slipped out of my shoes and I rolled like a giant snowball. Believe me, that feeling is not good.