Skiing in My 40s

—— 一位中年滑雪新手的跌跌撞撞与惊喜人生

人生总在意想不到的地方展开新章节。
有些勇气，藏在一脚踏入雪地的瞬间；
有些快乐，源自一次又一次的跌倒之后，站起来笑着继续滑下去。

I just got back from Snowbird Resort in Utah, and I’m still sore in muscles I didn’t know existed. This is only my second ski season in the U.S., and honestly, if you had told me before 2024 that I’d be skiing down black diamond runs in my 40s, I would’ve asked you to check your helmet for cracks.

My first real mountain ski trip was in January 2024, to Sugarbush, Vermont, with my life partner, Cai. He kindly took me to the “easiest” blue trail—which, to me, looked like a cliff. I stood at the top thinking, “This is how it ends.” I fell so many times during those three days, I’m surprised the mountain didn’t name a mogul after me.

But lift tickets and rentals were outrageously expensive, so I made a financially motivated life decision: I had to learn how to ski. I dove into YouTube tutorials like a college student cramming for finals—pizza turns, parallel skiing, moguls, you name it.

Fast forward two seasons, and I can now ski almost anywhere without fear… or at least without screaming. Life’s funny like that—you start out thinking you’ll die, and end up having the time of your life.

May. 18th 2025 at West Lafayette, IN