Saturday, March 2, 2013

Anatomy of a Fall




Here’s a picture of the jump that I wasn’t going to jump.  Here’s a picture of the jump that Eric said he was going to jump.  Therefore, here is a picture of the jump I decided I had to do.

Eric went over it with ease.  I channeled my inner twenty-something stoner snowboarder and hauled ass towards the jump.  Somewhere near the top, I remembered I was a boring suburban mom of two and that this was a really dumb idea.  A dumb and soon to be painful idea.

Let me let you in on a little secret.  In those Looney Tunes cartoon where they do that run in the air and somehow make it back from the cliff.  Tried it.  Doesn’t work.

My aggressive speed gave me lots of time in the air to think.  I thought about all the things I would break and how I could finally find out what it feels like to ride in one of those ski patrol thingys.

Then I landed.  I can’t tell you exactly how I landed.  I know that my last thought before hitting the ground was “Fuck”.  I know that one ski ended up uphill and I can tell you that my elbow really hurt.  According to Eric’s apt description I was “all flying assholes and elbows.”

I was able to ski away from it and try it two more times.  I landed it one of those times, enough to save my pride.  Then I decided to stick with equally ridiculous yet less painful stunts such as this.


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