The thrill of victory...
And the agony of defeat. Or shall I say the agony of de snow up de pants.
Today Mr. N and I headed out to the hills to go sledding. Not having been sledding since I was in my early 20's, I was hesitant to strap my ass to a piece of plastic and allow my body to be hurled out of control down a hill. Hesitancy was soon replaced by absolute joy, squeals and thrills.
When I was in my teens, I had the need for speed, be it on my bike, on a skateboard, in my car or on a sled. I was known for taking chances sledding down steep, icy roads that were otherwise not in use by motor vehicles. One such incident had me in front and a girlfriend in back, clinging on to me for dear life.
"You're sure you know how to steer this thing?" she asked.
"Of course," I replied.
And off we went. Things were going fine for the first few moments, but suddenly the sled began to veer towards a parked car.
"Oh my god LOOK OUT FOR THAT CAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRR" came my friends scream.
For whatever reason I remained calm. At the very worst I figured we'd bounce off the tire and spin out.
Which is exactly what happened.
My friend was not pleased. I couldn't understand that. I'd had a GREAT time. And we were fine. No injuries.
Ah but that was then and this is now. Things like bodily injury and money and insurance (and lack of) go through your mind when you get on in your adult years. However, that didn't stop Mr. N and I from attempting to capture some of those child-like feelings of youth. Mr. N even made his first attempt head-first. I said a quick prayer when I realized the position on the sled he had taken.
And yet, just as in my youth, we came away from the day with no injuries. Just cold and wet. Tired from the snow tackles and snowball fights. But invigorated and gleeful. And looking forward to the next time out.