Horseshoe Resort

Growing up, my school had ski field trips. The whole class would go together, all bundled up in their snow gear, and spend the day outside in the snow. Scooting along in those tiny little skis, falling, laughing, falling, and laughing. Followed up by eagerly awaiting for that cup of delicious hot chocolate. Complete with big, fluffy marshmallows. Because hot chocolate just isn’t the same without marshmallows.

 

At least that’s how I pictured those days. Because without fail, as I crawled out of bed on the morning of those glorious ski trip days, I was sick. Well, at least, I pretended to be. I didn’t want to go. I didn’t know how to ski and I was going to look stupid. To put it simply, I was afraid. I made excuses time and time again so I wouldn’t have to face those fears. I mean, why not? Why do something when you’re afraid of doing it? Why do something that might make you look silly?

 

Because that’s where the magic happens, that’s why.

 

That’s what this weekend was all about, as we headed up to the Horseshoe Resort. It was celebrating Sebastian’s birthday. It was spending time with some of our most favourite people. It was enjoying the outdoors. (Which hardly ever happens in this cold-snap we call Winter!) It was strapping on those skis, looking fear in the face, and barreling down that hill without looking back.

 

And you know what? I did fall. And sometimes, yea, I looked pretty silly. (Some of those falls were pretty epic.) But as I looked around as the snow was gently falling from the sky, layer by layer, covering the trees that surrounded us, it was bea-uuu-tiful. And all of that fear, all of that doubt, washed away. (And I learned how to pizza slice with the best of ‘em:)

When's the last time you got out of your comfort zone? I have a feeling this is just the beginning...

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