I was not an athletic person growing up. I never went out for sports in school and I think I only took the mandatory 3 semesters of PE in order to graduate high school. I wish I was athletic and outdoorsy, and sometimes I can (sort of) fake it, but in general- I try to never pretend to be athletic.
My mindset shifted a bit when I started working part-time at a sporting goods store. Suddenly, people who liked to hike, bike, run, ski, etc. surrounded me. Their enthusiasm was contagious, but I didn’t know where to begin. (Admittedly, I was also reluctant to display my lack of grace, flexibility, endurance, and knowledge of the outdoors and athletics, as well as a whole host of other insecurities.)
I crunched the numbers and was not surprised to find that professional snowboarding lessons were not in the budget. (I was working one full-time job and three part-time jobs at the time—which is a whole other story). Fortunately, when the winter season arrived, one of my co-workers offered to teach me (and my two children) how to snowboard. First, I thought he was joking, but he was insistent that we would love it, and that he would love to share the experience with us. True to his word, a few weeks later, he took us out to the local ski hill, which he said was ideal for first-timers.
My daughter, who was in kindergarten, suddenly didn’t WANT to learn to snowboard and cried incessantly at the start. She had a litany of complaints: she was cold, her hands were cold, she couldn’t stand up on the board, and it wasn’t fun…. I wasn’t incredibly helpful during the lesson he tried to give her because I couldn’t stand up either, which meant my support was (literally) non-existent.
And what about my son and how he took to the “lesson”? He was a sixth grader – and his blossoming desire for more independence meant that he didn’t really want to listen– he just wanted to get up the top of the hill and “go”, which had disastrous results. At one point, I looked over and saw him (intentionally) rolling awkwardly down the hill; one leg strapped to a snowboard that flopping around behind him. Meanwhile, my daughter was sobbing piteously in a heap on the side of the hill, refusing to get up.
Within the first 45 minutes to an hour, Damian suggested we take a break. With the promise of a break, a snack and a temporary reprieve from the snowboard lesson, my daughter was willing to work her way (slowly) down the hill.
Throughout this entire experience, I was simultaneously thanking him for spending Saturday trying to teach us, apologizing for us being so “needy” that he couldn’t make a single run down the hill without having to stop to help us, and fervently encouraging him to ditch us and go have fun. Each time, he refused to leave us and insisted he was having fun.
Long story short- the break was just what we needed. After 45 minutes of rest, encouragement, a snack and some hot cocoa, my daughter was willing to broach the hill again- timidity and fear displaced with a genuine smile. My son decided that listening and modeling Damian’s suggestions might be beneficial, and within the hour, he could safely (and slowly) make his way down the small hill with only a few falls.
When everyone agreed to call it a day, the kids were all smiles, tired but triumphant.
I was effusive in my thanks to Damian, and had another litany of apologies for how had spent his day. He stopped me mid-sentence and told me he had a great time. “The smile on your kids’ faces when they were learning was the highlight of my weekend.” His smile was genuine, his eyes were bright and twinkling, and his conviction was clear.
My kids and I didn’t leave the hill as future Olympic snowboarders, but I was willing to chalk up the day as a “WIN”, finally remembering that success is often found in overcoming the small challenges. That was almost a decade ago, but the memory is still with me- as is the gift of my friendship with Damian. I am grateful.
Do you have a friend who gave the gift of their time to help you in some way? Are you ready and willing to give a quick shout out to them online? (A phone call, email, text, letter by snail mail and/or song on their voicemail would also be appropriate.)
Pictured is me with my generous and wonderful friend, Damian. It was taken in 2007 when we walked the Tony Knowles Coastal Trail in Anchorage, talking and catching up on life. I am so grateful to him for his years of friendship, especially during some really hard times in my life.
I encourage you to share this post and share with and tag that friend in the comments. Today, (and everyday), I celebrate my amazing and generous friends!
