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Sports injuries assignment 2 essay
Main points about sports injury
A short essay on sports injury
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Skiing On the Edge of Death
Have you ever wondered what it is like to feel like you’re about to face death? Well keep this in mind; no matter how good a person is at something, there is still a chance of getting hurt, make sure to wear proper safety at all times. I am a skier that has 4-5 years of experience. Many crashes and falls have happened during my time skiing, but one event tops them all. It was like any other Saturday night, until everyone left me. I had to walk inside to grab something and update our parents. Then, I grabbed what I needed, said good bye to my mom and over to the stairs. I waddled down the stairs trying not to fall in my ski boots. I reached the bottom and headed for the door. My hands pushed open the door and as that
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I figured they had just left me, so I though that’s what I’ll do too. At that point in time no one knew where I was. All I could think was random negative thoughts. I went to the Yodeler lift and waited my turn to get on. I’ve learned to be a solitary person from doing projects and things by myself, I never had friends that were in walking distance. All the way up the Yodeler lift I watched the shiny necklaces and other things thrown into the trees. Yodeler lift is most known for being the lift that people throw things on the trees at during Mardi Gras. That felt Like one of the longest rides of my skiing …show more content…
I wondered if they left for a reason (Which I later found out they did). As far as I knew, they just left. I sat back and the cold bar gave my neck a chill. I could see the guy at the end and I waved to him. He wore a black hat and a green jacket like most ski lift operators do. He waved back and I thought to myself “At least he’s nice.” The hill under me started to shrink as I got closer to the platform. When the platform was in sight I lifted the cold bar with my glove and I could see the mark were my hand had melted the snow on it. My poles were in my hands and my skis up ready to get off. It looked as though I was about to attack someone, which is the normal way you get off the lift, legs raised, poles at 45 degree angle, and head straight ahead. My skis were on and I inched my way forward down to the small hill, onto the main one. After I was on the main hill, there was a neighborhood of other trails, to my left was Mardi Gras, the biggest and main trail of Holiday Valley, in front of me was two more, one led to a terrain park and the other was just another trail of Mardi Gras (or Mardi for short). I swung my skis to the left and passed a few snow boarders strapping up and said to one with a board that had LEDs, “Nice board!” He replied with “Thanks man!” I continued down the trail going slowly while the trees and the snow were grasping my eyes. I came to the part of the hill were it
Cross-country skiing is as much of a competitive sport, as it is a back country one. Cross-country skiing is enjoyed by people of all ages, and can be relatively inexpensive. There is no need for lift tickets and with a little maintenance equipment can last for decades. As a result of its broad audience, many people don't realize that physics plays a large role in cross-country skiing. This web page was designed to briefly describe some of the concepts behind the physics of skiing, and give a basic understanding of both the sport and the science.
In the prediction I can ignore the amount of time it takes to hit the
At 6pm on a Saturday evening, Sally and her parents were on their way to go skiing for their 20th time. The whole family was extremely excited and looking forward to this, especially since the place was somewhere they’d never been to before. As they were in the car, Sally was daydreaming about what the place would look like, and wondered if her worst fear would be there: ski lifts. Everything about this scared her. The car is out in the open, has no roof, and the ride could malfunction at any time. Since this unanswered question was on her mind now, she decided to ask her parents to see if they knew. “I’m just wondering, do either of you know if there are going to be ski lifts at the place?” Both of her parents paused in confusion but didn’t
...I jumped on the boulder and there I stood one jump away from gaining back my popularity. Looking at the cold ice had already given me shiver. I counted to three and jumped, I had broken the ice feet first. Beneath the ice was dark and extremely cold. I wasn’t able to see anything; I was frightened that I wouldn’t find my way back. It was an unusual feeling, like time had stopped and everything was moving slow. I ran out of breath and eventually found my way back. The whole school assumed that I had died from coldness and wouldn’t come back up. After warming up, it was the new kids turn to jump. Everyone waited but he couldn’t jump he choked. I was glad and proud of myself for overcoming my anxiety. The quote by Amit Ray really inspired me and will never be forgotten: “If you want to conquer the anxiety of life, live in the moment, live in the breath.”
I rush toward the mechanical clanking and rattling of the ski lift and collapse into the chair. Exhausted, I use this time to restore my energy. I begin to form the image of the steep route that I plan to attempt on my next run. Its nearly vertical face, large jagged rocks, and rough terrain send shivers down my spine and adrenaline into my veins. I painfully recall my previous attempt, where I did not perform the necessary technique in order to survive the run without a crash. This time,
ingenuity and some of his dads tools he began working on the first snowboard. His
As practitioners in the Orthotics and Prosthetic field we owe our patients not only our skills of mind and hand, but also the encouragement to live their lives to the fullest. We want them to have a life worth living in spite of whatever physical difficulties they possess. There are many ways to accomplish this, but one of the lesser known is adaptive snow sports.
We all hugged one last time before jumping I could not believe that this would be the last time I would ever see my family. Dominique and I went to the edge of the Freight car and we counted down, “1...2...3!” As we jumped the only thing I could hear was the shot of a rifle and a short cry from Dominique. Once I got up from the frigid snow I looked to my left and saw the dead corpse of my brother Dominique. I broke down crying
I was so hyped that I finally learned Snowboarding. After all those years only going on small hills on my heel edge, I finally was doing toe edge. We went up the hill for a couple of more runs and just like you already know we got on the chairlift and put on our bindings once we got off. We went all the way to the right side of the hill and snowboarded down it. While I was going down my board hit a small ice ball and my board caught an edge and I landed hard on my board. If you were me in this exact situation I could tell you it hurt alot! Image getting kicked really really hard by someone now imagine that hundred times harder, that was the pain I was in. Max came up beside me and asked if I was ok. I looked at him and said “ my butt hurts so much” After a couple of minutes sitting there we got up and went down to hill. I looked at the clock and realized it was closing time. I went did a fist bump with Max and went home. Now you just read my narrative of me overcoming snowboarding and I can tell you I was so proud of myself. I succeeded because I had the determination to do
With its overpriced lodge food, expensive hotels, and increased commercialization, skiing is a notoriously elitist sport, a luxurious activity that can be enjoyed only by a wealthy few. However, the normalcy ideology of human ability, which draws a division between normal people and disabled people and therefore is integral in maintaining the social caste system in daily life, further restricts how many can interact with the sport. By examining the skiing community, one can understand how this ideology functions: there are normal skiers and disabled skiers, who range from poor skiers to people who cannot ski for a variety of reasons. Further complicating this caste system are the professional skiers, the ones who appear to have superhuman skiing abilities. Interactions between and perceptions of these distinct social classes are responsible for both overt and implicit
Throughout the course of my sixteen-year old life, I have experienced the unfortunate incident of taking a trip to the emergency room several times. The majority of them however were only for the typical injuries of an individual who shares in my liking for an adrenaline rush, and a lack of common sense. I never actually considered being seriously injured as a possible consequence of my actions. Of course, I have never tried to attempt any incredibly dangerous act without thinking it completely through. Nonetheless, previously I thought being alive could consistently be taken for granted, and as a result I never felt as thankful for living as I should have been. It was not until January 2009 that I truly was in a situation where I was in danger of losing my life, and ironically I had no responsibility in causing the incident.
I’ve done some scary things before and I always had the courage and motivation to do it, but this time, my courage abandoned me and just disappeared as if it was never there. It was a cool and chilly day, but the sun was shining hard at my favorite ski resort in Lake Tahoe in December. Crisp, white snow was delicately falling from the sky and it covered the ground like a blanket. But the luminous sun was melting the snow, making it wet and slippery. The trees on the side were towering but slender with dark, brown trunks and bright green leaves. I was wearing a cumbersome jacket and a helmet and I was starting to sweat a lot in the heat. There were tons of people in thick jackets carrying skis, poles, and snowboards milling around. I was in a lengthy line of people, all waiting to go on a ski lift. The lift led to a monstrously huge hill that I was about to ski on.
All alone, I glance downhill and notice my left ski ensnared in distant undergrowth. One of my ski poles lies casually near the summit, trapped in a mogul crevice. The lonely winter atmosphere bestows little comfort; I am aware that the trail will stay empty until eight o'clock the next morning and therefore undertake immediate action. As I painfully peel off my left glove to inspect the damage, the monotone drone of the ski lift ceases. I stand up and detach my right ski, then ascend the powdery snowdrifts that flank the trail in search of my missing equipment. Upon attaining the altitude of my missing pole, I re-enter the steep slope.
I did it. I jumped off. The cold air hitting my face as I plummet towards the gravel. Some panicking, some remained still. I heard one lady scream. Crashed. The pain jolted throughout my body. It didn't hurt as much as the realisation that I didn't succeed. I was still alive. People started to surround me, some dialing 911 to seek for professional help. A man was telling me "Hold on, you'll be fine". I didn't want to hold on.
After three hours we arrived at our first break stop. We stopped at a section that was on top of the waterfall. The view was amazing and spectacular because we had never seen anything like this. As we continued our hike after several more break stops, and nine more hours of hiking, we finally arrived at the top of El Capitan. Once we got to the top the view was amazing. We could not imagine how beautiful it was up there on top of the world. After about half an hour we started heading back down, when all of a sudden out of no where I felt someone push me out of the way. A man that was in a hurry to get back down pushed me so hard, that I lost my balance and fell of a twenty foot cliff. At that moment in time I could see flashbacks of my life. After a couple seconds of falling I somehow landed between two rocks which shattered my right foot. After that happen every one that was there tried to get help but unfortunately cell phones do not work in Yosemite, but the man that pushed me over the cliff had a walky-talky and he called for help.