Friday, 21 March 2014

I tried to ski .... once.


Hello and welcome to my latest blog raising awareness of the disability Dyspraxia. I’m sorry there has been such a large gap between this one and the previous one in the series it really has been a busy and stressful time at university recently. As always I hope you enjoy the blog and feel free to give feedback.
A day on the slopes.
The winter Olympics were pretty amazing weren’t they ? The phenomenal talent on display was just incredible. Watching all of this took me back to a school trip many years previously to a dry ski slope as part of activities week, an annual end of year programme which allowed students to the pupils to be unleashed on a series of days out of their choice. I knew from the start the option I had picked would mean a trip to the slopes and was just as certain that snowboarding and skiing would not be my forte but remained determined to give it a go. When the day arrived I was optimistic that after trial and error I would be able to get the hang of it. The sun was high in the sky with barely a cloud in sight and already at only mid morning the temperatures were rising rapidly and the forecast was only for them to continue to soar. Not ideal then when shortly after arriving we were presented with ski suits, heavily padded and necessarily so; the artificial slopes would surely inflict terrible damage on anyone foolish enough to attempt to use them without the protective gear on. After a safety briefing we were away with our tutor, first up snowboarding and soon it was confirmed that my fears of a clumsy, frantic day were about to become reality. The nature of the snowboard meant just getting around was difficult forcing me to adapt some sort of waddle. My memory of this is hazy, however I can clearly remember tumbling back down the slope having got halfway up to the top after yet another slightly unorthodox run which surely left the tutor and fellow students bemused. It would have been funnier, had the day not rapidly begun to turn into one of the hottest of the year, draining energy and making each little incident all the more frustrating I hadn’t particularly enjoyed my snowboarding experience and wasn’t sorry when we took a break for lunch. Skiing was next it could only get better couldn’t it?
Skiing brought a reason for new optimism, snowboarding had gone as well or as badly as most people myself included probably expected but here was another opportunity to try something new and I was keen to grab it. All kitted out once more confidently trying on my skis I had no idea what was in store. Wisely, our new guide had only taken us onto a flat part of the course a group of mainly first time skiers could have been cause for pandemonium on the slopes. My lasting memories are not particularly fond ones of skiing either. Cones had been laid out on for us to ski in and out of to try and give us a feel for the sport and despite seeming like good fun I found it particularly hard. To balance on equipment like that requires coordination I simply don’t possess and the “course” of cones would often lie scattered in various directions after one of my runs. My struggles were summed up however when the after being called in for a group tutorial suddenly my equilibrium started to wobble, first a little then uncontrollably and in a desperate last ditch attempt for dignity I grabbed the person nearest me. Unsurprisingly they weren’t expecting the person next to them on flat ground to suddenly do an impression of a tree being felled and, caught completely off guard toppled over with me. On the bus home, all things considered I concluded sports on the slopes were definitely not for me. Many years on I wouldn’t rule out another crack at it, after all how hard can it be?

The guitar.
If you never push yourself you’ll never feel the satisfaction of overcoming something. Learning to play the acoustic guitar was an example of this picking up a guitar for the first time at the age of ten even the basics were a struggle and by that I mean understanding how to hold it properly. Fortunately I had a very patient teacher who understood the difficulties I faced, however subconsciously I would try and adapt to how I held the guitar to overcome the difficulties experienced when rapidly trying to change notes. These “adaptions” were not massively noticeable but they were wrong and my teacher tirelessly corrected and tried to think of ways to make my learning experience easier without taking short cuts and sacrificing the potential to play the music well. Eventually her patience paid off, I got to grips with how to play the guitar which enabled me to pass some early exams with merit. As time progressed so my interest faded however and, with the departure of my teacher further up the country, I soon ended my commitment to learning the guitar. It’s a decision sometimes regretted ultimately though, the learning process provided a real confidence boost and was a very worthwhile experience. The trusty guitar is still at home in its stand and sports one or two dents at its base I wonder who caused them…..
That’s all for this time I’ll try and get back to writing these regularly again from now on. Thanks for reading and all the best, George.

 

 

No comments:

Post a Comment