It has been years since I put on a pair of skis. I learned how to ski when I was 7, went (maybe) a couple times a year until I was about 14, and then didn’t touch skis again until last weekend. My husband, on the other hand, learned how to walk and ski at the same time, and went every weekend growing up. Skiing is in his bones, and so I am learning.
We trekked up the I-70 corridor to Copper Mountain to do our first ski day of the season. Our best friend was with us. As I slapped on the skis, it was refreshing to see that much of what I learned while I was young was still there. I could hold my own on skis– not quickly or gracefully–but I could stay upright and eventually get to the bottom of the mountain.
Encountering the Unknown
As I was starting to feel confident, like I was finally getting my ski legs under me, our run converged with a difficult run and resulted in us getting stuck at the top of a small mogul section. Moguls are part of a run that requires skiers to navigate down bumps, requiring technique and control, both of which I do not have a lot of while on snow with two boards strapped to my feet. My husband later informed that these were not “regular moguls”, so much as they were “baby moguls”. However, to me, standing at the top with the only way to get down the mountain being through these “bumps”, there was nothing baby about them.
I have been exploring the concept of healthy risk taking. I have learned how to stay safe, almost to the point of obsession. As a trauma-survivor, I craved comfort for the longest time. But I hit the stage in my life where the desire to stay comfortable was no longer serving me and the growth I wanted to see. I had locked down safety, but now I want to learn how to balance comfort and safety by allowing risk into my life while implementing my ability to trust myself to navigate risky situations. I believe that it is important for everyone to develop a healthy relationship with risk-taking, but there will be more of that in another blog. Right now, the important thing to know is that I have historically not responded well to risky situations where I may fall/fail/or consequently make a fool of myself.
And so I stared at the top of the mogul section, with my husband and best friend (some of the few people in the world most familiar with my reactions when I feel trapped and past my limit) waiting to see what would happen.
Choosing Risk
The response I had was actually quite a simple one. I looked at my husband and said “well, there is only one way down”. He nodded, saying, “looks like we’re learning moguls”. This may not seem like much, but to me, this was a huge win. I had committed to trying new things, allowing myself to be a beginner, and to redefine my relationship with risk.
As I looked down at the moguls, I knew that there was a very good chance I would not make it down without falling at least once. I also knew that even if I did fall, I was going to be fine. I had been working with a personal trainer for two years to build up strength for this very reason, so I could try new, adventurous things. Here, I had my husband and my best friend ready to teach, cheer me on, and keep it goofy as they watched me fumble my way down. I could do this. Was it still a risk? For me, yes. But I could do it. And so I did–I fell; I got up; I had sloppy, goofy, uncoordinated technique; I made it down.
Finding Success and Community
It was maybe a ten minute experience out of a full day of skiing, but it is one of the things I am most proud of from that day. Every time I face a risk with my full self, I am reminded of just how capable I am. I am capable of succeeding, but I am also capable of getting up from failure.
This time, I was also reminded how important having a community is when we take risks. I had two wonderful people with me not only to teach and guide me, but to support me, cheer me on, and make sure I didn’t get plowed over by speedy-fast skiers flying down behind me. Community support is why safety becomes more than personal. We cannot go through life without encountering risk. Sometimes we can’t go over or around it, we just have to go through it. When we have to go through it, our communities can cheer us, guide us, and watch our backs along the way.
I am committed to exploring the relationship between risk-taking and safety as the year goes on and will be documenting my experiences and takeaways from it. Make sure to stay tuned for more! If you too are thinking about how to navigate getting out of your comfort zone, we offer classes that help build these skills!
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