So get out your seat and jump around!
So, my love of watching the Winter Olympics has spawned some insanity.
I was a downhill skier from about 6th grade until 12th grade. I skied every chance I got, which was at least once a week during the winter. I took lessons and went on the most difficult hills I could. Eventually, I became a good recreational skier. Three of my closest high school friends were good skiers, which helped.
Then college came around and I stopped; mainly due to lack of finances and the fact that none of my college friends skied. Also the fact that I was far too hung over on the weekend to get off my butt and go skiing didn't help much.
This year, silvrayn has inspired me to try it again as she just started learning. She's doing fantastic and even can do black diamonds with relative ease.
We had so much fun skiing that she took a skiing class at school.
Now, as I watch the Olympics, I'm seeing the incredible sport of ski jumping. People are flying 200 meters through the air, and it blows my mind. This triggered eerie memories from my childhood, as there is this massive ski jump right near the local ski area in Bloomington. Every time I went skiing at Hyland, this huge jump taunted me as it lit up the night sky.
I couldn't help but think: "How the hell do you convince yourself to go off that thing?"
---
Well, I decided to research that answer a couple of weeks ago. I found that the Minneapolis Ski Club runs the place, and for only $150 per year, including equipment rental, you can go jumping as many times as you like.
It turns out that you convince yourself to do it by doing it the only logical way - going off progessively higher jumps.
Today, I went ski jumping with my friend Don.
We strapped on 8' long skis that have no edges. We went off a very small hill and then went off what's called a "K10", which means a good jumper will jump 10 meters on it.
It was really, really fun.
And really, really exhausting, as there are no rope tows. You've gotta haul your ass up every time.
The big jump we have here is a "K75", which basically means it's freaking huge. You can see it from 494 as you drive by.
Anyway, I'm alive, and happy. Who would have thought that a 27 year old can learn to fly? :)
I was a downhill skier from about 6th grade until 12th grade. I skied every chance I got, which was at least once a week during the winter. I took lessons and went on the most difficult hills I could. Eventually, I became a good recreational skier. Three of my closest high school friends were good skiers, which helped.
Then college came around and I stopped; mainly due to lack of finances and the fact that none of my college friends skied. Also the fact that I was far too hung over on the weekend to get off my butt and go skiing didn't help much.
This year, silvrayn has inspired me to try it again as she just started learning. She's doing fantastic and even can do black diamonds with relative ease.
We had so much fun skiing that she took a skiing class at school.
Now, as I watch the Olympics, I'm seeing the incredible sport of ski jumping. People are flying 200 meters through the air, and it blows my mind. This triggered eerie memories from my childhood, as there is this massive ski jump right near the local ski area in Bloomington. Every time I went skiing at Hyland, this huge jump taunted me as it lit up the night sky.
I couldn't help but think: "How the hell do you convince yourself to go off that thing?"
---
Well, I decided to research that answer a couple of weeks ago. I found that the Minneapolis Ski Club runs the place, and for only $150 per year, including equipment rental, you can go jumping as many times as you like.
It turns out that you convince yourself to do it by doing it the only logical way - going off progessively higher jumps.
Today, I went ski jumping with my friend Don.
We strapped on 8' long skis that have no edges. We went off a very small hill and then went off what's called a "K10", which means a good jumper will jump 10 meters on it.
It was really, really fun.
And really, really exhausting, as there are no rope tows. You've gotta haul your ass up every time.
The big jump we have here is a "K75", which basically means it's freaking huge. You can see it from 494 as you drive by.
Anyway, I'm alive, and happy. Who would have thought that a 27 year old can learn to fly? :)