Eddie the Eagle

Picture, if you will, the pristine snowy slopes; the lone skier, gracefully swooshing down the mountain side, adroitly weaving between trees and around hillocks, sliding to a stop with finesse... And then look over at me, squealing in terror as the incline reaches a terrifyingly steep 2%; as my speed picks up and I lose control of the possessed pieces of plastic attached to my horrendously uncomfortable boots; as I launch myself into yet another snowdrift to halt my precipitous descent to the queue for the chair lift. Avert your eyes in shame as the two Australian guys try not to piss themselves laughing while they pick me up off the ground and I immediately start sliding backwards through the rope barrier and back into the line of people in control of their skis and waiting patiently for their turn.

Pretend you don't notice as I signal frantically to the chair lift operator to slow the bloody thing down so that I can get off and then end up 'skiing' to the top of the slope whilst lying on my back (I kid you not... just as well I've been doing so much yoga in the past few months that my body actually bends like that without breaking anything). Then, something like passing a car crash, watch in horror as I point those possessed slivers of waxed plastic back down towards the bottom of mountain and push off in a wobbly line, straight into another snowdrift. And repeat. Repeatedly. Until the point where one of my skis snaps off my boot - ah! the relief! - and I realise that I no longer have the physical strength remaining to hold myself steady while I snap it back on again. Screw you guys, I'm going home. On the plus side, I don't think I have laughed so much in one day as I did yesterday, even if it was pretty much all at myself. I also became fairly adept at lifting myself from prone to upright without the use of my ankles or knees, which would go a long way to explaining the pain and stiffness currently locking up everything from my ears to my lower shoulders.
So, when are we going again?