It'll Be Worth It... (First Draft Posted as "My First Time") (Edited May 1st)

In the winter of 2002 I went to Woods Valley Ski Area in Westernville, New York, to snowboard for the first time in my life. It was the perfect place to start this difficult process because it was a small hill, not intimidating mountain. It has an incredibly friendly atmosphere which also helps calm any nerves a beginner may have. This may be due to it being a family owned destination.
At this point in my life, many of my friends had already been snowboarding for two or three years, and I was interested in trying it myself. I had been skiing since I was three years old and I was intrigued by this new form of enjoying the downhill slopes in winter. In the past few years I had been skiing with my friend Andrew, who had already been snowboarding for two seasons. Today, he was going to be my instructor. We traveled the forty minutes from my house and when we arrived I rented a board from the chalet. After purchasing our passes, we headed out into the winter air.
From my previous eleven years of experience with these hills I knew we would be headed toward Easy Acres, the bunny hill, the easiest, most level trail available. I remember thinking this would not be as difficult as people had told me. Dependent on my knowledge of skiing, and my summers of skateboarding, I was looking forward to the day. I recalled the stories my friends had told when they learned how to snowboard, and the bruises they showed me to accompany their stories. I was planning on not being able to tell similar stories or show comparable bruises… I was wrong.
I boarded the chairlift with one foot strapped in, and the other free, to help me travel across flat land. “Wait a second,” my friend said “you’re facing the wrong way.” I am goofy footed; I prefer my right foot to lead, and my left to follow. The majority of people snowboard with a “regular” stance; I was one of the thirty percent of people who are more comfortable riding goofy. Now Andrew’s advice was going to be backward, and we would have to figure out how to do things in the opposite manner as he taught me.
The first run consisted of my riding down the hill twenty yards, then falling down in order to stop myself from careening out of control and injuring myself and others. I was having difficulty turning, stopping, and even standing up after falling. Andrew’s instructions were not very helpful. My spirits began to lift as another friend of ours, Jason, joined us on the hill. Unfortunately he was not goofy footed either, and my spirits sank again. He would be of little help to me.
After three more runs and over one hundred falls, I was feeling as though I was making progress. Andrew and Jason had become bored with my slow pace and frustrated with my inability to understand their poorly given instructions. They had decided they were tired of the bunny hill shortly after Jason’s arrival, and had crossed to a more advanced slope, leaving me to teach myself for the remainder of the day.
Andrew and Jason found me inside several hours later, drinking hot chocolate and eating mozzarella sticks with french fries. It was time to go home and I had come in early to rest my legs. My muscles were incredibly sore, but the burn I felt in my thighs was nothing compared to the pain I could feel on my tail bone, hips, palms of my hands, knees, elbows and shoulders. The bruises were forming already. I could also feel a bump forming on the back of my head from a particularly nasty fall when I had caught my heel edge. They apologized for leaving me, but I knew their instructions would have been of no help. I was glad they enjoyed their day at Woods Valley so someone would be able to tell a good story when we were picked up in a few minutes.
I returned my rented equipment and rode home, thankful for the cushioned seats of my mom’s minivan. I knew I would be no different from the other people describing their first day snowboarding, and wondered if my bruises would be as bad as the others I had seen. When would I return to the hill to attempt this supposedly “fun” activity? Would my tail bone, hips, palms of my hands, knees, elbows and shoulders still be purple, or fading to yellow green? Either way, I knew I would be returning to conquer this task of learning to snowboard no matter how much abuse my body took from the snow. I was a good skiier, but snowboarding held so many new and exciting adventures. I would be able to go into the “Board Park” to hit jumps and grind rails. I would be able to use new terms like “jib” and “butter” (no not the kind used in cooking). I would be able to do the same things my friends did instead of being the only uncool kid on skis.
As we pulled into my driveway Andrew asked if I wanted to go back tomorrow. My bruises would still be black and blue, not yet completely developed, before I would be adding to them. I would have less than a day to prepare myself for more self inflicted abuse, but it would be worth it.