Snowboarding
I am on the slope of the first snowboarding run of my life, my snowboard in one hand, gloves in the other, as I watch people do tricks at the bottom of the hill. I strap on my snowboard and slip on my gloves. I have been preparing for this the whole week. I am ready. I get up and ease down the mountain, going slowly at first, then faster. I fall one or two times and skate to the middle of the ski run, so I do not crash into any trees.
As I reach the middle of the mountain, I start to see the jumps, some big, some small. I see someone land funny, and slide down to a ledge, losing his equipment on the way. What if I have the same fate as he does? I start to panic. What if I run into the side of a jump or go off one and hurt myself? I have spent so much time preparing for this first trip down the mountain. I can’t stop now. I keep going. Now things are starting to clear up, and I feel a lot
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I turn my board toward the huge jump and head to the big mound of snow. The trip feels longer than a snail crossing the street. I reach the mountain of doom in what feels like an hour. I take a deep breath, feel my board lift off the snow, and hope for the best. I shoot off the jump and fly through the air like a flailing bird learning to fly. I land face first and slide down to the bottom of the mountain, dragging my board behind me. I worry that I have broken every bone in my body. However, when I get up, I feel sore and bruised, but nothing is broken. Someone says, “Are you ok?” I nod yes and they ski away. I look like Frosty the Snowman coming out of a blizzard in a ski parka.
I have learned that sometimes you have to risk getting yourself hurt to save other people from harm. However, I also learned that it is really fun to fly through the air on my snowboard. Avoiding those skiers has allowed me to experience something I would have never done otherwise. Next time, I am going to go on all the