Category: feelings

feelings

a tale of two ski trips

abby mumford

winters can be suspiciously long if you don’t partake in some sort of winter sport (especially when you live in NE or colorado or utah or anywhere else a lot of snow can be found), so thank goodness for new friends who ski and old friends with newfound abilities.

after snowboarding lessons (in 2000) ruined my skiing techniques (from childhood), i focused almost exclusively on shredding. in fact, i own my gear and i’ve gone snowboarding once a year every year (since 2000).

i’m no expert, but i’m no novice either.

two weekends ago, i happily strapped in to tear up the mountain with the old friends with newfound abilities. this time however, the mountain won. let’s just say my helmet paid for itself because otherwise i’d have knocked myself unconscious. twice.

playing the pansy card, i left the others on the mountain and spent some time warming up in the lodge and pondering why fear was so pervasive that day. as i’ve gotten older, i’ve grown less and less fond of speed because the faster i go, the less control i have / i’m hyper aware of what i have to lose should i sustain an injury BUT snowboarding isn’t something new to me. i have many mountains notched on my proverbial snowboarding belt.

why was i so scared?

it’s most likely because my attention was focused on keeping up and popping up after a fall and maintaining momentum and not being left behind and guilt i was slowing the group down.

i resolved to try again after lunch because i knew i could do better. i pushed myself, but ended the day after only a few more runs and a bout of whiplash and a decision there was no way i could snowboard the very next weekend (which i had previously committed to). i dragged my bruised body inside and wondered what to do next. i’d hoped this trip would be a warm up for the next weekend when a new friend and i traveled to vermont, but instead, all i managed to do was freak myself out.

despite the massive bruising and strained muscles, i couldn’t back out and so instead of falling down the mountain on the next trip, i fell back on old habits and rented skis. i partnered up with people who were at my skill level and took the easy way down. the skis felt familiar. my muscles burned with recognition. my smile bloomed. i was in control, until i wasn’t, but with years of practice behind me, i could contain both my speed and the voice in my head screeching “i’m going too fast too fast too fast i can’t stop i’m going too fast!!!” and enjoy the ride.

oh, how quickly i forgot the fear from the snowboarding weekend. in fact, i was so jazzed i even convinced my new friend to join us for a trip to the top of the mountain even though it was her first time on skis. trust me, when it’s your first time on skis, any slope looks steep.

talk about bravery (on her part) and peer pressure (on my part).

that trip up consisted of four of us: two newbies, two “teachers”. it took us around an hour to reach the bottom (vs. 15 minutes when i went solo), and it was my favorite run of the day.

since i was with people with less experience than me, it was my job to coach and encourage and lead by example. my focus wasn’t on my abilities, but theirs. i wasn’t racing to keep up. we skied it one turn at a time and took frequent breaks and discussed the patterns we carved in the snow and the best route down and icy patches and helped each other up.

it’s a whole different experience when you’re the one not smeared on the ground.

after they decided they’d had enough, i decided i hadn’t. i hopped on the lift and went for four more runs. me, the girl who can’t go anywhere without getting lost and who (realizes now) skis/snowboards for the social (not speed) aspect, went alone. my confidence was up even if my technical abilities were not, and okay, fine, i went down the same run three of four times. i didn’t trust myself not to end up on the other side of the mountain which was covered in black diamond (expert) trails.

sure i could have survived those trails, but for me, the fun part isn’t about the challenge. it’s about the camaraderie and being in control and being in the fresh air and working my muscles and being active and hanging with friends.

what was that about me being a slow learner?

have you ever tried something new and wished you hadn’t? have you ever thought you were better at something than you actually were? do you ski? snowboard? surf? ride horses? play basketball? what color shirt are you wearing? (just seeing if you were paying attention).

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feelings

slow learner

abby mumford

the first time i heard those words was when my first creative writing assignment of my junior year of college was being handed back to me.

my professor’s words slammed into me banging around my brain ripping holes and leaving bruises only i could feel but amidst the whooshing air of that tornado of words, i caught a snippet of what she said after that.  though she wasn’t the nicest of teachers nor the best nor the most tactful, this time, her words weren’t meant to harm. they were meant as an observation.

and it was true.

she’d noticed a big difference in my writing from one semester to the next which was why she chose then to unleash her opinion.

before that moment, the only feedback re: my style of learning was receiving an A or B (okay, maybe a C in math). those letters were general and uncomplicated and simple and rarely showed how much hard work or time i’d spent (or not). i’d always known numbers weren’t my thing but to have a creative writing teacher point out something negative was a blow.

it threw me off course.

while in the weeds, i remembered something. after a long day of high school + sports practice, i would always always always go directly up to my room. i didn’t realize this was a habit nor did i consciously decide to do so nor did it occur to me this was something odd because i was unloading my books/homework/sports equipment/decompressing from my day, etc. in fact, it wasn’t until my mom told me she’d expressed her worry to my aunt A that i realized this was slightly unusual behavior.

upon hearing this, my aunt A laughed and said, of course. abby’s an introvert. she recharges her self/energy by spending time alone.

i’d always thought an introvert meant someone who was shy or a loner or something.  i was (still am) shy, but i’m also very social. i can often be found with friends and family, which didn’t fit with my understanding of what an introvert was, so this new (and very correct) definition opened my eyes. after a long day surrounded by dozens of people at all times, i was merely recharging my batteries.

as i peered up out of the you are a slow learner weeds i realized maybe being told that was like being told i was an introvert. maybe this wasn’t a bad thing but rather a new way of understanding how/who i am.

the second time i was told i was a slow learner was earlier this week. i was in the middle of doing a power clean lift and the coach was studying my movements. he’d already corrected my form during earlier instructions of how to do the snatch (tee hee) lift. i pulled the bar up (which was wrong) and into position when i realized my bottom half also landed incorrectly. i adjusted my angles and the coach, seeing my (delayed) thought process at work, applauded and said those “slow learner” words to me.

this time, i (put down the weight and) nodded.

granted, if i was ever a fast learner, it was in a sports capacity which is probably why i’ve always gravitated towards sports. weight lifting (in a crossfit arena) is completely new and foreign and i’m learning types of lifts done in the olympics and am way beyond out of my comfort zone (which is another post in and of itself). form and technique are the two most important things here, but the movements are so unnatural to me if i’m not literally thinking about each individual step as i make it, i lose it. trust me, when you’re holding a kettle ball or a barbell with heavy weights or you’re in a handstand holding your own body weight, it’s not the time to lose focus, form, or technique.

but it’s difficult holding such strict concentration when also struggling to lift heavy things and count reps and listen to the coach and decide if you can do more and compare your progress to those around you and you’re still lifting and it’s still heavy and am i almost done and wait, how was my form on that one.

it’s exhausting. it’s exciting. it’s difficult.

just because i know i’m a slow learner doesn’t make it any easier to accept that fact, especially when you add in my perfectionism and my competitive nature… SO instead of thinking about the ways and pace at which i learn, i should probably start trying to figure out tricks to get my brain into gear faster because this is incredible, is it not?

any tips or hints? are you a slow or fast learner? visual or auditory? does practice make perfect? how do i practice without a barbell at home? should i drop and give you twenty?

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feelings

nemo

abby mumford

at the time i’m writing this, the name nemo reminds me of this:

rather than this:

but by the time the day/storm is over that association may very well change.

in other weather news, this video is a lot like my reaction a few years ago when i was walking home from work in the middle of the blizzard and thunder cracked through the sky and my heart.

although, come to think of it, my response might have been a more of AAHHHH, THE WORLD IS ENDING as opposed to the sheer wonder that reporter radiates. i also might have used slightly stronger language than him.

if you’re also in the path of this fishy blizzard, may you be warm and cozy this weekend. if you’re not in the path of this storm, may your weekend be productive and fruitful and may you continue to associate nemo with a fish and not bucket loads of snow.

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feelings

goodbye

abby mumford

i don’t want to burden you readers with sad posts, but what i really want to write today is one more thing about grandpa. his memorial service is tomorrow and it’s only fitting i write a little more for him. for me. his official obituary is here. i didn’t gather the facts or write the bones of the article, but i did smooth out the rough edges and bumpy transitions which is only fitting considering that’s what he tried to do whenever he gave us advice.

my original idea for this post was to memorialize the final few quotes he’d sent me making this his 6th guest post, but really, there were only two pieces i wanted to share. the first is this:

Words are things; and a small drop of ink / Falling like dew upon a thought, produces / That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think. Lord Byron, (1788-1824)

it arrived on 1/22/13, six days after he passed, in the form of a “do you want to keep subscribing” email. you see, grandpa had signed me up for “a word a day” and at the bottom of each one was a quote, a thought of the day, if you will. i knew where he was getting the quotes he’d forward to me, after all, i was getting the very same emails, but i pretended i didn’t know. often, i wouldn’t even read all the way through the “word a day” emails because i didn’t want to spoil the quote. i wanted what he sent to be a surprise — both the words of another and which words made him think of me.

but with that email, the gig was up.

it was all on me now — to subscribe, to read, to think. this last “thought of the day” was so apt, so spot on, so something he would have forwarded to me, i cried. i cried because i missed him and our irregular regular communications but also because i could no longer pretend.

the magic from those “a word a day” emails was gone and the burden of missing him too much, so i refrained from re-upping my subscription. there’s only so much growing up you can do in a day.

the second thing i’ll always carry with me (literally (i printed it out and put it in my wallet) and figuratively) is an email he sent to me on 2.14.12.

Hi Abby – My wish for you today is love. Grandpa

ten words. one line. simple. sweet. honest. necessary.

it’s what i wish for YOU today and all the days.

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