This weekend, we headed up to Mt Buller here in Victoria for a day at the snow. I'd always wanted to try skiing, but I had no idea how I'd go. I was worried about falling (Steve told me not to be nervous, that I would definitely fall), scared about going downhill (you can imagine the hilarity there), and just had nerves about not knowing what to expect.
I'd been to Mt Buller before - in spring and summer, for sightseeing and hiking. And once in the snow, when Steve tried snowboarding, but I was 36 weeks pregnant at the time and it was freezing and snowing, so I gave the cafes a good test run.
This time, Steve and I tried skiing. So, how did it go?
Well - at the start of our skiing lesson, I was ready to sit the day out. Having to get on a chairlift and then make our way down the hill to get to the beginner's lesson was just mean - and I walked down with skis in hand. When I did put my skis on, I just slid around everywhere and got very frustrated.
So when Steve said, "Smile for a photo!" I kind of forced one...
The lesson was good - I learnt to stand still, ski a little, turn and stop. Cool. Maybe I could do this after all?
But the little slope at the lesson was very different to heading down the main run at Mt Buller - Bourke Street. Very different. I spent most of the day on my bum in the middle of the ski run, swearing to myself. In the end, and with Steve's encouragement, I headed back to the beginner section and practiced my basic skills there.
I was glad I'd given it a try and happy that I'd made some progress. I might even try it again one day, and we'll definitely head up to give Abbey a turn in the next couple of years.
But, at the end of the day, the joy comes from stopping, taking off those horribly uncomfortable ski boots, and having a drink.