We were cruising down the street with the windows down and going 80 in a rented minivan when I realized it was the starting point of an adventure that I would personally never forget. Maybe it’s physically: due to my bruised tailbone or mentally: due to all the impromptu photo shoots while trying to get off the lifts; however, I guess we will never really know.

Snowboarding and skiing were the only thing in sight during my spring break vacation this year. It was the first time I’ve ever gone snowboarding, or ever been on some type of fast manual moving device in the snow for that matter. I still feel like I’m falling sometimes. I close my eyes and there I am nose diving into the steel hard snow. It is not fluffy and it is not soft when it has been sitting there for multiple months. No matter if it even did fall from the sky for 4 hours the previous night. It hits the ground and somehow becomes as hard as a rock. The proof was in the helmet indent left in the snow by one of my families skiing expert friends.

Now don’t get me wrong, I loved it. I have always wanted to not only experience a true snowfall, but to live in a place where snowflakes are a constant. As a kid, and still today, I always tell my parents we need to move. Maybe that’s because I am stubborn, or maybe it’s because I have issues letting go of ideas I dream of (ie: the first dog I ever was given was due to the fact that I repeatedly made slideshows about how good of an owner I undoubtedly would be. It didn’t stop there though. I also presented them in front of my parents as if I was presenting the newest model of an I Phone in a conference room.) At the end of the day though, my idea of living in the snow, as well as going on vacation is relaxing. It is not forcing myself to twist my body in an unforgiving matter to just try and stand up on a board. I was always like “I just can’t”. It was fun though… like I’m not lying… it was.

Spring break has always consisted of lounging on the tanning ledge in my pool, or sitting next to a neighbor in an inflatable tube while dipping Cheeto puffs into ranch (if you squint your eyes hard enough, they taste like carrots.) It’s relaxing and refreshing. Yet, I was so happy when I found out we were going to Colorado for a week. I was looking forward to it so much. And even though my dad and everyone kept telling me that skiing was easier, I of course rolled my eyes and said, “watch me…I’m doing snowboarding.” Yeah… watch me fall is what I learned I would be saying a lot instead of the stubborn arrogance I held a week prior.

So, let’s just get one thing clear. Skiing and snowboarding is so much fun. It’s exhilarating. It’s a rush. It’s a workout… that’s for sure. But it is also really hard and scary. If I were to ever give a first timer advice, it would be to not snowboard or ski for 4 days straight. Your legs will fall off, unless you sit in the hot tub with the uncomfortably touchy couples. I am scarred, but my legs did not fall off. That is all that matters in my book.

I would recommend taking a breather. I don’t condone being a fibber, but I do condone taking care of yourself. For example, you can say, “Yea, I’m gonna hit the bunny slopes today. Y’all go ahead. Don’t come check on me. We will be good.” You can even go as far as putting on all your clothes and garb and making it to the lift with your snowboard on. You can even pretend to be snowboarding and take pictures so you have evidence to show everyone when they ask how it went. If you are like me though, your conscience will be telling you that you need to go down the hill at least twice. So you will get on the lift, and hit your head multiple times before making it all the way down. But you will at least have some truth to your words.

Once you finish the mission you set out to do, you can confidently throw your board in the snow with a huff, and strut your way up the stairs to the outside bar of the ski resorts restaurant. You can order a Shirley Temple and clink your glass with your mothers drink. You can watch the party of skiers and snowboarders you came with lug their boards and skis up and down the lifts with a smirk on your face. You can proudly proclaim that they are just not as smart as you. Those poor little people down there don’t know what they are missing. And to end off the success and disservice to humanity of a hill you feel you have conquered, you can say confidently, “Now this is what coming to the mountains is all about.”