Chris Rectenwald Professor Lankin Writing and Rhetoric 16 September 2013 Unexpected Happiness [ Me trying to catch my breath] Whoa,

that was a fun run! I exclaim with my last breath to my friend coming in right behind me. I thought I knew the mountain, but that run was new and exciting. With all my knowledge and enthusiasm of the mountains, people think that I had grown up on the mountain. My love for thrashing through runs and exploring the mountains on my skis did not come by nature. The discovery for my passion took years to find, but through patience and an open mind I found my passion after once considering skiing my enemy. I was in the first grade and lived a television-centric life. [noise of video games and cartoons] This was not the ideal path to follow. My parents recognized this, so they decided guide me in a healthier path by taking me on an adventure. They approached me and brought forth the news that we were going to Colorado to ski. [Groaning] I thought, great, another vacation to get away from electronics. This was going to be hell. Despite weeks of crying and complaining, the vacation still happened and my family drove to Colorado. The ride was long and boring. There seemed to be nothing but cornfields [noise with farm animals and wind] and seemingly deserted towns.

This combination of dull scenery and the everlasting duration in the car did anything but help my attitude. When we finally reached the resort, my parents planned on walking around and enjoy the scenery of the mountains. Great, more stupid activities, I thought to myself. I then dragged myself alongside my parents and barely lasted the walk around town. The mountains first impression on me was not impressive. They were just tall hills. I could tell that this was going to be a long week. After hauling myself around this lifeless town, I went to bed immediately with the hopes of waking up in a different place. The next morning rolled around and I was still in the hotel. [ a huge sigh] Crap. I heard my parents walk into the room. I then went into my never fail disappearing act, and hid under the covers (this usually worked at home). Unfortunately my magic was not working that day. My parents quickly discovered me and pulled me out of bed, and my parents won after my resistance effort failed. No! I groaned to myself knowing that I was going to have to learn how to ski. My parents had bought me a jacket and pants that modeled after a spacesuit for todays activities. If I did not die from today from falling off the mountain, heat exhaustion would get me. Getting on the suit was a struggle. It took 10 minutes of my parents constantly pushing and pulling until my begrudgingly allowed the suit to fit my body [Me displaying discomfort with words like Ouch]. It was 25 degrees

outside, and I was already sweating [insert panting noise]. Today was going to be a rough day. We then proceeded into the Ski Lessons Area, so I could check into my lessons. Because I had never skied before, I had to figure out my sizes for skis and boots. My level of comfort I did not think could go lower, but once I tried on the boots, the intensity of my discomfort skyrocketed. I did not know if it was the rock hard outer shell covering the boot, the locked ankles or the metal straps that strangled my feet, but I could not fathom spending the whole days in these boots. Despite the circulation in my feet dwindling, I struggled out of my seat and walked to start my lessons. [Loud wind] The first step outside was almost my last as a gust of wind almost swept me away. The thought of me skiing in this treacherous weather sounded awful. Today was going to be hell. I then saw my ski instructor a 100ft away. I can do this, I said to myself trying to keep as optimistic as possible. Left foot, right foot, left, right, left, right I thought to myself as I was moved towards the hill where my lessons were taking place. This walk had drained my energy, so the chance of me skiing seemed slim to none. After I finished the walk to the hill, I slapped on the skis, and rode up on the conveyor belt for ski school attendees. I struggled over to where the ski instructors were to listen to their directions. Task one: Go down the hill, and make a pizza shape with my skis while keeping my chest up and knees bent. Easier said than done. My first attempt ended with pain everywhere. I had dug in too deep into the snow with

my skis, which caused myself to lean forward and land on my face. [sound of ski crash] The little fire I had left towards skiing had just been wiped out by a tsunami. I thought to myself, one more time. Just once more. I listened and immediately regretted it. I cried because of my frustration and pain. After a week of ski school lessons, I barely could make it down a hill without risking my life. This helped me come to my conclusion that I would never touch the slopes again. That vow lasted for about a year until a program that brought students from my school to my local ski area became available for my grade. My mother thought that the program would be a good idea for me, because most of my friends signed up for the program. Oh god, not again. I hate skiing. I cried to my mom. Chris, just try it once again and if you do not like it you will not have to keep going, she responded. I reluctantly agreed. I thought hopefully my attitude would change. And did it ever. The first day of the program was a new beginning. For some unknown reason, after sticking with skiing long enough I actually enjoyed spending my days in the frigid air riding down hills. I liked the adrenaline rush given to me when I would fly down the hill. I started going back to the hill on weekends when the program was not going on, and started hanging out with kids that enjoyed skiing. I even advocated traveling to the mountains again, and with that, Colorado has become my favorite vacation destination.

My passion of skiing has brought me all over the country, from Vermont to California and has sparked many lifelong relationships. Skiing and the adventure when exploring the mountains has shaped me as into a person that I am proud of today. Learning how to conquer black diamond runs, though, was not my greatest lessoned learned from the mountains; it was to keep an open mind in life that through patience and perseverance, because something that seems bad might actually turn into a positive influence in ones life.