Broke Butt Mountain

My husband and I decided to take a week long vacation in Colorado. I
was looking forward to spending time with my parents, re-connecting
with some old friends and visiting Boettcher Mansion,
where we got married just a little over a year ago. My husband, on the
other hand, was looking forward to one thing...Snowboarding on the
mountains.

I spent the beginning part of our trip shopping for cute
snowboarding gear. I needed to make sure that I looked like a pro
snowboarder in the event that I might run into someone I know on a
mountain hundreds of miles away from home.

My husband, on the other hand, did a couple of lower-body workouts
to make sure that his legs were in tip-top shape for boarding, and he
went to bed early the day before we drove up to the mountain while I
stayed up late watching re-runs of Roseanne with my mom.

So my mom, my husband and I went "up the hill" (as my mom says)
yesterday, and I was feeling good the whole ride up. We ran into a
minor snafu when we rented our snowboard equipment...They couldn't find
bindings and a board small enough for my itsy-bitsy feet, so it took a
little longer than expected for us to get out on the slopes, but we
finally got on the ski lift an hour after we had arrived.

Let me backtrack a bit and tell you all about my impeccable boarding
skills. At the tender age of 27, I've gone snowboarding four times in
Ohio...twice in high school and twice after college. I guess you could
say I'm a bit of a snowboarding prodigy because after those four times
(with only one lesson, mind you), I had already mastered the sport of
snowboarding. OK, so I know the hills in Ohio don't quite compare to
the Rocky Mountains, but I was able to go down the bunny hill at Boston Mills-Brandywine
two times in a row without falling once. (Getting off the chair lift
without falling was the only technique that I hadn't quite been able to
get down, but I heard that all the pros have a hard time with that one,
so I'm not too bothered by it.)

Back to the story at hand...Because my husband was a little rusty on
his snowboard (NOT because I was scared to death when we got on the
chair lift), my mom navigated us over the the green runs (aka the bunny
hill).

After falling down (two or three or ten times), I made it to the
bottom of the mountain with my husband and my mom close behind me. We
went inside to warm up and drop off some things in the locker, then
with some coaxing, we headed back out again. (Let's just say that I may
have been a little apprehensive about going back up the mountain
again...You know, I didn't want to make my husband look bad because I
had mad snowboarding skills.)

So we went back up, and I fell back down again...and again...and again...and again...Wait, did I say I fell down?
What I meant to say was that my husband fell down. Yeah, that's what I
meant to say. It was cute how he kept giving me instructions to turn my
board parallel with the mountain to gain speed, which was the exact
opposite of what I was really trying to do. I know he felt embarrassed
because he fell a couple of times (NOT because I ran into him when I
couldn't stop), so I humored him and "pretended" like I needed his
help. Ya know, to help his manly ego and all.

In fact, I even had a pretty convincing (fake) wipeout right in
front of him. That's right. I gained some speed, flailed my arms
helplessly, screamed and tumbled down the mountain a bit. I did such a
good job "pretending" to be hurt that I completed my performance by
sitting motionless, holding my head, which I had slammed against the
mountain during my "fake" fall, and I cried for a good five minutes.
(Again, it's not like this was a real wipeout, and I did not secretly
start panicking because I thought I had a concussion.)

We actually only had time for one more run after that, and I...er...my husband proceeded to fall down about another three...no, six...no, 15 times before we made it down the mountain again.

We were all pretty pooped when we got home. I took a long, hot
shower to help me relax for the evening. I counted 15 new purple
bruises across my legs and arms. Every part of my body ached. I had
difficulty getting in and out of chairs, and my husband literally had
to hold an ice pack on my bum because it hurt so bad from falling. I
swear I broke my butt on that mountain. Who was I kidding?!?! I didn't
know how to snowboard. I just made a fool out myself that whole day. I
honestly think I spent more time down on my butt than up on my board! I
can't believe that I agreed to go out and do this again tomorrow!

(Um...That last paragraph was written in the first person from my husband's perspective. Yeah...We'll go with that.)

Follow me on Twitter @NikkiFlores
to find out how tomorrow goes...I'll be tweeting (aka giving updates)
all day long. (And if you're not familiar with Twitter, then shame on
you! Just kidding. Click here to sign up for a Twitter account.

Clueless Newlywed breaking her butt on the mountain

NOTE: This is cross-posted on the Clueless Newlywed Blog.

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