highschool heat
Its been a very long, hard week. The teachers are pushing and criticizing you to the point where you simply want to leave school never to see them again. Your friends, although not intentional, have driven you into bitter frustration. To make matters worse, you know this cycle of stress and anxiety will go on for another five months, a very long, aggravating five months. It’s Friday though, and there are two good days to exert this energy so as to be able to take the cycle with chest forward again come next week.
So what does one do to dump this stress in the gutter and be able to survive through the school year? Some people party and drink, when you think about it, that’s an easy and convenient escape. Lets not kid ourselves, anyone who hides this truth is not facing modern reality. I have seen what thats like, and in the long run, it drags people farther into despair, an illusion of relaxation. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe it does really work for some. For me however, I ski. My party scene is crisp white and stretches beyond the horizan, my alcohol is 198 cm long, with bright K2 logos, and clean straight edges sharp enough to cut through glass.
Skiing with a home base of Rhode Island is the nightmare of any skier, short of living in Hawaii. No mountains, tempatures conveniently just above freezing, and the weather is either bad or awful. However, when skiing is what you eat to live, you make accomadations. Typically I wake up at 5:00am on Saturday, am in the car by 5:30, and on the mountain by nine. During the winter, I will do this every weekend, with only dire emergencies being the exceptions.
Arriving at the ski hill is like arriving at a piece of unexploreded terrain to claim your own. Although tense, the excitement and push of dominating the land is overwhelming. As soon as I take the chair lift up, and look behind at the awesome view, any failed test, any recent scolding, and recent failure might as well be non-existant. Rushing down at top speeds of over 50 miles per hour, the only thing that fills my mind is pushing it even harder, to conquer a slope I wasn’t able to previously. The sky can by blue or gray, the tempature warm or frigid, whatever the weather, skiing down the endless snow, over the sharp pitches, around the moguls, through the trees is a feeling never replicated by anything else. Skiing is more then a sport to me, its my punching bag of life, something I can beat down till all my stress is poured over the mountain, never to be seen again. As I finish, the sun is just creeping over the peak of the mountain, the soft orange glow surrounding the peak of the mountain like a giant trophy to my accomplishment for the day,
At times when I feel I have succeeded at nothing, I know I am good skier. This alone carries me past many hardships. Knowing that no matter how hard school hits me, I can outsmart it, simplying by strapping on two pieces of wood (the core of skies are still made of wood). The rush of the mountain, the success of calling it a day with steaming hot chocalate and steadily warming fingers, being able to reflect on that jump where my heart ended up in my throat, the blast of powder I blew all over my friend as I pulled a perfect parrellel stop, being to able to watch my father (who is still better then I am) and knowing that on the mountain, we are friends of equal power, that final breath as I strap the skiis to the car, ready for another week of school. Still want to critize me about being Canadian, about being to quiet and limited? I have felt glory you only dream about, I can feel reborn over a weekend, I can spread my arms and let the breathtaking view of thousands of acres of raw wilderness and snow bring me to new levels. So what do you do on your weekend?
Note: I wrote this in high school. In college, I now party fairly frequently. I think the one who responded that a balance should be achieved is very correct, and I have attempted to do such. Besides, now going living in Penn, means I deal with the crap skiing of the nation :-(
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