Snowboarding, And, Why I Shouldn't
Saturday some friends wanted to go snowboarding. Having never done so before I was a bit hesitant, but excited. I've been wanting to learn for the past few years. So, I agreed. At the end of the day we ended up with MapGuy, a female friend of his, the little brother of a mutual friend of theirs, the super-cute kid (he's not even 21 yet...) to whom I am totally attracted, and the amazing! girl he's madly in love with (who, tragically, does not reciprocate). I've been hanging out with them a ton, but haven't mentioned them too much because I'm having issues coming up with blog names for them. Dancer, as I shall call her, left this morning for BYU-land, so yesterday was a farewell for her.
Neither Dancer nor I know how to snowboard, so our friend was going to teach us both. We rented our gear, ate some lunch, and made our way up to the ski lift. I had some issues walking after I got my foot clipped into the board. As an aside, since I had no idea, either: When one snowboards you first clip in your non-dominant foot, then walk by pushing the board with one foot and kind of baby-stepping it along. Not surprisingly, I sucked at this. Eventually, I made it up to the lift, jumped on, and rode to the top. At the top I made the lift operator stop the thing so I could get off. I fell.
I managed to hobble myself out of the way, and stand up. After working my way over to my friends I decided it was time to strap my other foot in. Bad idea. I fell. But I didn't just fall, I fell in that spectacularly glorious way in which I somehow manage to always do. A few stand-up-and-falls, and I was determined to do this! Then, as I was moving to put my foot in the binding I fell again. This time, however, it wasn't just on my butt or knees, instead, it was on my board. Correction, the board turned 180+ degrees and ended up under me. I managed to get it out from under myself before lying back in the snow and declaring, "Owww! Oh, hell that hurts!" I then proceeded to clinch my jaw and work hard on (a) not screaming from the pain; and (2) not crying. I failed at goal number 2.
Everyone asked if I was ok, to which I replied (through gritted teeth) that yes, I was, no, they couldn't do anything for me. Then, Dancer helpfully offered to straighten the board for me. After twisting my knee back completely in the other direction I asked her if it was straight. Not yet, she said, wrenching my knee even more. I wanted so badly to ask her to stop since I was sure she was actually turning it further than it should go in the other direction, but I didn't. Eventually, she got it. I couldn't move and sent everyone down the hill, fully intending to be strapped in and standing by the time they returned.
I did manage to strap in by the time they got back, but hadn't been able to stand, yet. MapGuy's friend suggested that I try standing without the board before going down the hill. I'm glad I did, because I couldn't. Well, I could, it just hurt. A lot. She called for ski patrol.
I got a lovely fun toboggan ride down the mountain, and spent the next two hours on a hard bench waiting for everyone else to finish up so we could go home. Honestly, there was no use in making everyone else miss out on the fun just because I happen to be a walking catastrophe.
When we (ski patrol, and myself) reached the lodge a small crowed instantly formed around me. I'm sure I looked the sight: I was tied into the toboggan, and had a splint strapped to my leg. Lying down, with three medics leaning over me didn't help much either.
Once inside I continued to draw stares. One little boy, around 5 or so, found my predicament fascinating. He couldn't peel his eyes off me as he was guided past. "Listen to your mother." I warned him sternly, "Don't drink and drive." His father quickly whisked him away muttering, "Come on, don't stare." Oh, give me a break. I was just having a bit of fun!
Today I took some pictures and emailed them to Mumsy. Then I called her up and told her that I went snowboarding, and she should check her email for some pictures.
"Did you break your neck?" She demanded.
"No!"
She asked if I had fun. I told her that she needed to see the pictures and I thought that would explain how much fun I had. "Uh, oh." She uttered ominously, "Did you break your leg?"
"No, I didn't break my leg. Just check out the pictures."
"Honey," she called out to my father, "Check my email, I think Gorp broke her leg!"
"I didn't break my leg!!" I insisted.
They opened up the email, and Mumsy gasped. No, I didn't break my leg, but I may have torn something I'll need later in life. And, since you're morbidly curious as well, here you go. Frankly, my biggest concern is that diagonal bruise on the left side of the picture. In the second image you can see how its a bump. I don't have a matching one of the right knee.
I'm going to urgent care tomorrow, where I can get x-rayed, etc (all on 2007's deductible, since I didn't quite reach it in 2006). And people ask why I have the best insurance available. Let me tell you why: Chris Rock once said (to paraphrase), "I call 'insurance' 'incaseshit'. As in 'incaseshit' happens." In my case, it shouldn't be called 'incaseshit', it should be called 'whenshit'. Or maybe 'insureshit' is the right term, as in, I can insureshit will happen, trust me.
Neither Dancer nor I know how to snowboard, so our friend was going to teach us both. We rented our gear, ate some lunch, and made our way up to the ski lift. I had some issues walking after I got my foot clipped into the board. As an aside, since I had no idea, either: When one snowboards you first clip in your non-dominant foot, then walk by pushing the board with one foot and kind of baby-stepping it along. Not surprisingly, I sucked at this. Eventually, I made it up to the lift, jumped on, and rode to the top. At the top I made the lift operator stop the thing so I could get off. I fell.
I managed to hobble myself out of the way, and stand up. After working my way over to my friends I decided it was time to strap my other foot in. Bad idea. I fell. But I didn't just fall, I fell in that spectacularly glorious way in which I somehow manage to always do. A few stand-up-and-falls, and I was determined to do this! Then, as I was moving to put my foot in the binding I fell again. This time, however, it wasn't just on my butt or knees, instead, it was on my board. Correction, the board turned 180+ degrees and ended up under me. I managed to get it out from under myself before lying back in the snow and declaring, "Owww! Oh, hell that hurts!" I then proceeded to clinch my jaw and work hard on (a) not screaming from the pain; and (2) not crying. I failed at goal number 2.
Everyone asked if I was ok, to which I replied (through gritted teeth) that yes, I was, no, they couldn't do anything for me. Then, Dancer helpfully offered to straighten the board for me. After twisting my knee back completely in the other direction I asked her if it was straight. Not yet, she said, wrenching my knee even more. I wanted so badly to ask her to stop since I was sure she was actually turning it further than it should go in the other direction, but I didn't. Eventually, she got it. I couldn't move and sent everyone down the hill, fully intending to be strapped in and standing by the time they returned.
I did manage to strap in by the time they got back, but hadn't been able to stand, yet. MapGuy's friend suggested that I try standing without the board before going down the hill. I'm glad I did, because I couldn't. Well, I could, it just hurt. A lot. She called for ski patrol.
I got a lovely fun toboggan ride down the mountain, and spent the next two hours on a hard bench waiting for everyone else to finish up so we could go home. Honestly, there was no use in making everyone else miss out on the fun just because I happen to be a walking catastrophe.
When we (ski patrol, and myself) reached the lodge a small crowed instantly formed around me. I'm sure I looked the sight: I was tied into the toboggan, and had a splint strapped to my leg. Lying down, with three medics leaning over me didn't help much either.
Once inside I continued to draw stares. One little boy, around 5 or so, found my predicament fascinating. He couldn't peel his eyes off me as he was guided past. "Listen to your mother." I warned him sternly, "Don't drink and drive." His father quickly whisked him away muttering, "Come on, don't stare." Oh, give me a break. I was just having a bit of fun!
Today I took some pictures and emailed them to Mumsy. Then I called her up and told her that I went snowboarding, and she should check her email for some pictures.
"Did you break your neck?" She demanded.
"No!"
She asked if I had fun. I told her that she needed to see the pictures and I thought that would explain how much fun I had. "Uh, oh." She uttered ominously, "Did you break your leg?"
"No, I didn't break my leg. Just check out the pictures."
"Honey," she called out to my father, "Check my email, I think Gorp broke her leg!"
"I didn't break my leg!!" I insisted.
They opened up the email, and Mumsy gasped. No, I didn't break my leg, but I may have torn something I'll need later in life. And, since you're morbidly curious as well, here you go. Frankly, my biggest concern is that diagonal bruise on the left side of the picture. In the second image you can see how its a bump. I don't have a matching one of the right knee.I'm going to urgent care tomorrow, where I can get x-rayed, etc (all on 2007's deductible, since I didn't quite reach it in 2006). And people ask why I have the best insurance available. Let me tell you why: Chris Rock once said (to paraphrase), "I call 'insurance' 'incaseshit'. As in 'incaseshit' happens." In my case, it shouldn't be called 'incaseshit', it should be called 'whenshit'. Or maybe 'insureshit' is the right term, as in, I can insureshit will happen, trust me.
posted by granola girl at 9:47 pm
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