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Oddmanthefirst -> Personal Narrative (9/26/2010 20:50:59)
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As the clouds part the heavens, the sun rises from the mountains, and I hold my body to the light’s warmth. The cold frost dances in a rhythmic tune with the sunshine, eventually connecting itself to my jacket. With a shake of my head, I strap each ski to each designated leg with my trembling arms. I stare off into the distance, to the mountains above. I will survive, I will conquer and I will overcome. I gather my emotions, for what they are worth, and look upon the majestic scenery, setting the stage for my adventure to come. I trudge to the lift, cautiously waiting for my turn. I warily sit on the bench, as it mechanically ascends toward the coldness above. First course: level green. I observe the track: practically flat. I easily fly by the small children, kicking up snow as I cut each corner. How boring, I thought. I want out. I want the real mountain, not some mountain made for toddlers. I continue to speed through the trail in order to get to the end. Upon the base of the mountain, I meet the ski lift once again.
“I would like to go the peak now,” I order.
“The peak?” the old man flashes his disapproving eyes, “Are you sure that you are ready?”
“Yeah, I think. These trails are way too easy.”
“O.K., well if you insist,” and with that he leads me to the lift.
Butterflies fly throughout my stomach as I continue to gain ground. Yet, I cannot help but smile at the magnificent site below. I am going to do it! I thought. Upon entering the mountain’s highest grounds, I slide myself to its peak and stare off to the cliff below. A small smirk creases my lips as I hold my skis.
I jump.
Cut left, cut right. Cutting every possible way, like a jaguar in a forest. However, a flaw persists: I can’t slow down! Velocity increases. Heart rate increases. Fear increases. Why can I not stop? With a fatal swoop, I fall through the white cloud, tumbling into the unknown. I carelessly flip in the air for a thousand years, trying to pedal myself out of the situation. Ground and body connect, plunging me into the frost. The adrenaline takes over my body; I stick my hands into the snow. One ski falls, the other loosely carries itself. My body slowly descends down the mountain, finally coming to a stop with my hands deep into the snow. As I see my ski farther below, I lie in self pity, chin in snow, tasting my own blood. I scan the area for assistance but to no avail. I warily continue to sit, holding myself. Adolescents, much younger than myself, pass me, with mocking smirks on their faces. If they can do it, why can’t I? I scrutinize my boots…all straps off. With a sigh, I tighten them, warily put on my skis once more. I stand up gradually, and glide through each motion, slowing coming closer to the finish line. With each turn, more white powder trails my success. I begin to fly faster and faster. I trail the air like an angel, holding my steps as a virtuoso. My pain has subsided, and my confidence is back. I finally end the trail with arms thrust into the air. I greet my peers with a smile as I go up the chair lift once more.
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