Dear Skiing,
I’m not in love with you anymore and come to think about it; I don’t know if I ever was. I’m twenty-one years old. When I was nineteen, I thought I wanted to be in the industry. When I was sixteen, I made the switch from snowboarding. When I was eight, I switched to snowboarding so I didn’t have to ski with my mom. When I was six, I got my first season pass and I don’t remember how young I was when I first had a pair of skis on my feet.
Every day, every hour, and every minute I’m thinking about skiing. I think about all of the fun I had, all of the stories that are completely true that no one can believe, and everywhere it has taken me. None of my favorite memories involve having a ski on each foot. I remember times when I had fun skiing but those are few and far between. I’m in love with the lifestyle and only in love with the lifestyle. It took a long time but I finally came to terms with the difference and I hate it. My skier friends pick their classes to spend as much time at the mountain as possible. They love skiing. I’m jealous of that.
If you asked me why I ski I would say I just do. It’s pathetic. I don’t even have fun doing it. I think I’m pathetic for feeling this way. They say if you don’t like it, why do it? I say, I just do. It is really frustrating. There is noting I would rather do either. I want to get as far away from skiing as possible. That is the only way I’ll be able to know if I would actually care if I never did it again. I want to love skiing but I know it’s just not going to be true.
IF3 is going on two hours from me right now and I’m happy I’m not there. This way, I don’t have to see everyone else being so incredibly excited to see the movies and start their countdowns to when they will be back on skis. It is a really weird feeling considering the first time I went to IF3, I would have rather been skiing but it was a great consolation prize.
I just wanted to get that off my chest. There are so many more things I want to say that I just can’t put into words. If you love skiing, try to figure out why so you’ll never forgot it, and never let that fire die.
Trob.
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