I’ve been meaning to write this post for quite some time now, since it covers the pre-2008 era, more specifically, the time I went sleighing with Daniel.
First and foremost, there is a thing or two you ought to know about me: I don’t like speed – when I was taking driving lessons I was afraid to really step on the gas, and I’m not particularly comfortable in a speeding car when someone else is driving.
When we went sleighing the slope was uber-crowded, and to my despair people were going uber-fast. Needless to say I was kind of nervous about actually taking the big step and sitting “on the damn sleigh”. Daniel had to do some serious convincing work and it finally paid off.
So there I was, sliding away, Dani filming me and somehow only 2 possible scenarios were going through my head:
a) some maniac will come really fast behind me, won’t be able to steer, we’ll crash and I’ll break both my arms and legs
b) I won’t be able to steer, I’ll crash right into those trees and I’ll break both my arms and legs.
And whenever I was speeding up these 2 scenarios would seem yet more realistic. So what did I do? Hit the brakes of course.
Now it sounds silly but you cannot imagine the horror, the torment, the terror that possessed my frail heart.
Seriously, in retrospect, I know I must have looked quite funny, Daniel encouraging me while holding the camera “Wow, that was really good, a whole 5 meters with no brakes” or “Come on, you’re doing fine… You’re actually going slower than those 5-year olds but you’re fine”.
Of course, all this is immortalized. And when people see the videos? Well they pretty much have the same reaction as my sister: laughing till their jaws hurt, tears streaming down the face and repeating “Play it again, play it again…”