Over Spring Break my family went to Park City, Utah to go skiing. It was A-M-A-Z-I-N-G! The snow was sweet! While i was there i decided to set a goal for the week. I'd been trying to pluck up the courage to try a three sixty off a jump all season long, and I was determined to do one by the end of the week. Day one passed...no three sixty. Day two, three, and four...(see Day one). On the last day of our skiing trip I found the PERFECT jump to try the 360 on, it wasn't enormously huge like most of the others but was still big enough to be considered a jump. It was now or never. I went up to the jump and got ready to spin like my dad at a disco but I kinda forgot to actually spin. I wimped out. Plain and Simple. I hiked back up to the top of the jump approach and tried a second time...again I couldn't muster the courage to do. My hopes hit rock bottom as my skis hit the snow. I felt like a failure. It was horrible, I decided I couldn't live with myself until I had at least tried to do a 360. So I rode the lift back up and got ready to try again. Mentally I decided that it didn't matter if I broke my back trying as long as I at least tried. I approached the jump and got ready to spin. I was nearing the lip and started rotating my shoulders and head. Before I knew it I was in the air...spinning. I swear I heard a chorus of angels singing Hallujah! It was so beautiful I almost cried :)
