Falling and Failing

This past weekend, I spent three days and four nights at the base of Vail Mountain in sunny Colorado. We traveled in a group of eight guys for the majority of the trip, with my snowboarding skills sitting significantly farther behind than the rest of the riders.

Determined to not only improve my skills but keep up with my traveling companions, Friday morning, I embarked at the backs of my crew to the top of the mountain, and without plan or practice, followed them down the slopes at more than 10,000 feet above sea level. Catwalk after run, run after catwalk, barely catching my breath on the lifts before bombing back down, doing everything I could to keep up with the guys, falling and failing too often, the first day on the mountain was anything but successful. Close to seven straight hours, and I struggled to move. My motivation was shot. My muscles (namely, quads) were on fire. Every time I popped up, I wanted it to be over with as fast as possible, which, as you just read, was not my forte. The waning runs were even more challenging as my focus turned to warmth, comfort, and a soothing hot tub. Finally opting out of following my friends on their last run of the day after deeming it too intense, I took a few wrong turns and ended up almost a mile away from the base bar where we were set to meet. By the time I got home, I was exhausted, sore, sweaty, bruised, discouraged, and absolutely melting into my sweatpants and hoodie.

Day 2 was not the same. Knowing full well that another day of chasing my friends would result in continued displeasure among my friends and quite frankly, myself, I chose to only start the day on the gondola with them. Once to the top, I wished them luck, made sure my cell phone was wrapped tightly in a bag and protected in my chest pocket, and headed back down in the direction from whence we came; also known as, the safer, nicer, calmer side of the mountain. Being able to pick my own pace and my own runs turned the experience 180 degrees. I touched almost a dozen different runs, ranging from 5-15 minutes apiece. I took as many pictures as I could, realizing each time I had to remove my glove to do so. I took in my surroundings, fully appreciating the environment I found myself in, for pretty much the first time (my previous trip to CO was over 16 years ago). Riding at my own pace, meeting people in the gondola, talking to people during lunch, and minimizing my falls and bruises, I could not have imagined anything better when I departed from Chicago. I even had enough energy to spend an hour at Keystone for some night riding.

This may seem a little strange, considering I flew out with 7 guys and had the most fun without them, but for those that don’t realize, you don’t do a whole lot of chatting while humming down the mountain at ridiculous speeds, and since we were hopping in the singles line for the lifts, we often weren’t sitting next to each other on the extended lift rides. Trust me, I did more talking on Day 2 than Day 1.

Day 3 started out like Day 1, turned into Day 2, and ended with a final run with my best friends on the trip. The four of us that shared a room met atop my favorite run of the weekend, embraced the mountain for everything it was worth, and blasted down the mountain as fast as I ever had before. My change from the beginning of the trip to the end was obvious, and my friends could tell. I completed my weekend in Vail by accomplishing what I set out to do: buy my own equipment, have a blast, and get better at riding. Trip successful.

So my first day was spent falling in and out of misery, and just falling, frequently, while my second and third days were spent freely, confidently, and enjoyably. So, surface level assessment of my trip would lead you to believe that it wasn’t until Saturday until I really began to have a good time on my vacation. In reality, looking back on the trip, my first day on the mountain was by far my most rewarding. It might have been a beast at the time, leaving me doubting my skills and my place on the vacation, but without it, I would have walked away without knowing my potential. Did I keep up with my group? Rarely. Did I bite it hard, sometimes barely coming to a stop on the steep decline? Absolutely. Did I realize how over-matched I was against the enormity of the backside of Vail Mountain? Without a doubt. But if I hadn’t explored, tested, attempted, and failed, I would not have my head held as high as it is today.

I can’t say enough about the gang of guys I was with, taking care of me when necessary, waiting to make sure I didn’t snowball off a cliff, and being patient and encouraging enough to keep me moving. I know my limitations, but I would have never known without trying them. Sometimes the most enjoyable thing is not having fun, staying safe, and being comfortable. Sometimes it takes pushing yourself to see how far you can last before something becomes worth the time, money, and effort you put in. Next time you find yourself in a situation that extends your skill set and challenges your fear, it might be the very thing that pays off, regardless of the result.

Pictured (left to right): Andrew Gruber, Tim Cuga-Moylan, Andrew Kohl, Chris Lazzerini, Eugene Grib, Tyler Keller, Jack Gainey, Adam Costello