Personal Narrative: A Perfect Day For Skiing

Fearless

It’s a beautiful morning, the air crisp and clean, not a cloud in sight, and the temperature cool but not cold. A perfect day for skiing. I take a deep breath in and hold it, smiling at the smells of pine, snow, and fresh air. I love fresh air. I reflect on this as we, my friends and I, move up the mountain on the (five person) chairlift. We’re at Huntington, the local ski mountain not twenty minutes away from where we live, Genoa, a neighboring town of Tahoe. Every weekend, my friends and I come here to get away from the stress of school and to relax. My friends are chattering away as I fade in and out of the conversation. Then something Lizzie says catches me.
She’s saying “I want to try a black, we haven’t done any all season.”

I blanch. I don’t want to do a black, in fact I’m terrified of them. I just haven’t told my friends, for some reason, because I think they’ll laugh at me and call me a sissy, and then what would I do?!
After what seems like hours, my mouth starts working again. I nearly shout “No! Please no! I don’t want to do a black!”
Then I start worrying about what my friends think. However, I get lucky. I have good friends who care about me. None of them, Lizzie and Sara and Sam and Nat, have any sort of reaction that I was expecting them to. They all say something along the lines of “OK, we don’t have to do a black then, if you don’t want too, just tell us if you change your mind.” None of them laugh.
I love my friends! They’re the best friends ever! I smile and say gratefully “Thanks, ok. I will.”
Nat points out the upcoming rise of the top of the mountain and we raise the safety bar and slide off the lift, all of us back to giggling again. I suggest Deer Glade, a fun blue, somewhat easier than a black, and we race each other down it, having fun and giggling some more.
We continue to go down other runs for the rest of the morning, having tons of fun, giggling, and having a great time.

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Later in the day, I look up at the sky; the sun is directly above me, around twelve o’clock. We’ve all finished bundling up in our winter jackets and helmets and mittens and gators and all that other equipment and are outside snapping on our skis when Sam mentions the black again. The feeling of fright comes rushing back.
We sit as the lift comes around the bend still arguing. I am against the idea, Sam and Lizzie are for it, and Sara and Nat say that if I don’t want to, then we don’t have to.
Sam says “You’re not going to lose anything from doing a black. In fact, you might gain something! So why are you so scared of doing a black? Did you have some previous bad experience that you never told us about?”
I whisper back in response. “No. I’m just afraid of falling and or injuring myself. Do you know how many people are injured on ski slopes every year? A lot!”
“And you’ll have us to encourage and help you!,” adds in Lizzie.

“We’ll make sure you don’t fall.”
Sara chimes in “and the snow is really soft today!”
Nat says “ if you still don’t want to, then I understand, but I think it is a good idea to face your fears and do it.”
I think about it. I consider all the reasons they presented me with. I consider some more. I weigh the pros and cons of doing or not doing it. I come to the conclusion that maybe, just maybe, that the pros outweigh the cons. I steel myself to prevent myself from changing my mind. After a long pause, I finally concede. I say sullenly, “Fine. But if I get hurt, it’s all your fault. ”
The top of the mountain rises to greet us and we get off, turning towards a black, Wolf Trail, one of the “easier ones” (according to the map.) We push our way over, me grumbling all the way. I stop at the top, terrified at what I see. A turn, and who knows what's beyond that?! It could be anything!
I ask Sara “Can you go down in front of me and I follow you?” and she generously agrees.
They all encourage me as Sara takes off slowly, per my request, and follow along behind me taking my speed. Sara slowly gains speed and so do I. I go faster, getting more comfortable, and whoosh by Sara, giving her and all my friends a thumbs up and a smile. Pretty soon we’re all flying along, with me in the lead. I am definitely feeling more confident

now.
As the run flattens out at the bottom of the mountain, I twist to a stop, turning around just in time to see everyone else finish and come to a stop too.
Lizzie comments “I see you’ve ended up liking it,” and I respond, laughing, “how’d you tell? By how fast I was going, the thumbs up and smiles I shot you?!”
She replies “Yeah! How’d you know?”
Then I say something that surprises everyone. “I’m really sorry for not being nice to you earlier. Thank you so much for persuading and encouraging me to do the black, I’m really grateful. Thank you.”