Thirteen years ago, a monumental moment and shift occurred. 

A group of friends organized a ski house in Tahoe for a week-long trip of laughs, skiing, fun, and relaxing, except for one thing. Tahoe had almost no snow. It was mid-January and most of the trails remained closed. 

A twist of events changed everything. Upon arrival at the Reno-Tahoe airport, the heavy snow began. Mountains roads closed due to treacherous driving conditions. With white knuckles, adrenaline on high, music off, two hands were on the driving wheel until we arrived safely at the group ski house. With an extra two hours added to the drive, we arrived starving. Luckily, friends who arrived earlier left a hearty pot of chili on the stove which filled us with delight. 

With little sleep, we woke excited to get our first day of skiing in. After all, in Tahoe, nature snows in feet not inches. With ample sunshine, what a perfect day! Until this realization. I lived on the east coast which means I’m used to skiing on ice and hard-packed trails. Despite skiing for over ten years, two feet of fresh fluffy snow is something I never experienced before. 

Imagine walking on foam bubbles and then sinking every time the bubble popped. Skiing became a game of how fast you can move before the bubble popped. How I learned on skis was different. How I turned was different. I felt like a shmuck, a complete beginner, a newbie at something I knew how to do for years. This was downright frustrating. 

The good news is falling on fresh powder didn’t hurt the way falling on ice and wondering if you’ll break a bone. 

By the end of the day, new skiing skills came together yet it also left us completely exhausted. And this was only Day 1. 

Another foot of snow was expected to hit tomorrow. Bug-eyed. Something else had to change. We had four more days of this. It was time to ditch the East Coast skis, that were thin underneath the foot. On the way out of the resort, we stopped at a ski rental shop that guided us to rent wider skies that would allow us to float over the snow instead of sinking in and getting stuck. 

Day 2. Not only were the skis wider underfoot, they were longer. Ever feel awkward when attempting something new? That was me. Felt as if I choose to put on skis for a 6’4 man instead of my small stature. 

After getting off the ski lift, joy smiles and delight ensued. While a bit wobbly at first, I floated over the snow gain speed and distance 10x faster than the day before. A bit nervous and out of control, I fell. Standing upright and getting skis back on while not sliding down the mountain was an art in and of itself. Learning to laugh at myself became a new art. I slowly got the hang of it.  

Adapting to change, always feels awkward at first. After practice the upgrade occurs, and a whole new world opens up that you never even knew existed. 

The beginning of the new year is a fresh clean slate. If you want a different year than the past, it's time to upgrade your approach with new tools and techniques. 

Ready to upgrade to a new way of being and doing this year? Reply with, I’m ready. 

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