So I started this whole blog, changed my intstagram and twitter handles to recreate the most epic season that I had last year. During the 14-15 season, I reconnected with an old friend and logged over 20 days on the slopes at 9 different mountains. I’d say that’s pretty good for a mid-atlantic skier that works weekdays. And that was without the Rediculous Pass. So I decided to pick up blogging and write about conditions and review different mountains and après for other people like me. It didn’t quite work. Huge snowstorms were melted almost immediately by unseasonably warm temps, and all around it was a struggle.
I think I skied five times this season – truly skied (like more than 4 runs at my local spot). I grew apart with my old friend. I mostly skied alone. I didn’t “review” one mountain or go into detail of any experiences. I went to a clinic and realized I wasn’t in shape… at all. But it wasn’t a bust. I learned a lot. Sometimes you can’t just live your life saying “fuck it, I’m going to ski.” I dealt with responsibility and becoming an adult. That’s what this is about. To try and shred like I used to, to chase that feeling of being on snow, the perfect moment of “this is right.” To make new ski friends, in my late twenties, while I still get used to living in semi-isolation (small exaggeration) in a small-town on a mountain. To try and make affording gas and food and beer and a lift ticket, but pay my bills work. I feel like people have their life together at this point, at least pretend to, and I’m still running around trying to have fun before it turns into the drone of the same, lame life that others choose to live.
The life that they make bad in the movies. You get married, and you hate each other. You have babies, and your life isn’t yours anymore. You’re successful in your job, screw “work-life.” Wasn’t there a triangle diagram? You can have two but not all three? Anyway.
I hiked yesterday. A warm, long, first time out in months, hike. It was good, nice to sweat and climb and smell dirt. Skiing is engraved into my soul but hiking brings me the same type of happiness. Brings me down to earth. Same with horses – another part of my life that everyone thinks is the “little girl in me still chasing a dream.”
Christina Skis. Christina Hikes. Christina Rides Horses. Christina Rambles in a blog. I don’t want my current life to end, filled with passions and doing things that make me happy. Does that mean I’m selfish? Does that mean I still am still “trying to figure it out.” I don’t think it does. I am just learning to balance myself. Manage my finances. God, I’m becoming an adult. I don’t want to grow up.
That’s all I got. Word vomit.