How am I up so early after one of the biggest party nights of the year?
Well, the truth is I haven't gone to sleep.
My New Year's Eve was okay, but I'm not here to talk about how many vodka redbulls I consumed. Today I want to talk about what I wish I had been doing this New Year's holiday: skiing.
I learned to ski at a young age, and there was a point in my childhood where I skied nearly every weekend all winter long. I never raced down the hill like my siblings did, but I think I remember enjoying it. It became a very social activity for my family, as skiing usually does, and we knew many families who frequented the same slopes as we did. It was very cute, really.
Boy, did I take all that for granted. Now I'm a young adult, itching to ski, but I'm stocked with shorts instead of snow pants, flip flops instead of boots, and rollerblades instead of skis. I love the beach - don't get me wrong - but I'm craving a day of chair lift riding and powder. Just a day. In this situation, I must tell myself something I tell myself far too often these days: I can't afford it.
Here's hoping. Next year, after Christmas gifts are unwrapped, exchanges are made at the mall, and thank you cards are signed, sealed, and delivered, I hope to hit the slopes. I may be the Healthiest Chick in the Bar, but I plan to ring in 2013 sitting in front of a fireplace in a lodge somewhere, my legs aching from the long day, instead of on a bar stool, my feet swollen from heels.
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