You’re Never Too Old to Go Sledding

Last Saturday I saw my neighbor carrying his sled and heading to the small slope nearby. I politely asked him if he wouldn’t mind if I joined him. He nodded his head yes as he was only too eager to have a companion for this fun winter sport. After he gave me a brief introduction to the lay of the land and showed me the location of his newly constructed jump, I was ready to make my first run in over 30 years.

As I sat down on my sled a flood of childhood memories of sledding with my brother came to mind. The feel of the snow, the smell of the woods, the freshness of the cool air gave me the sensation of traveling back in time and being a kid again. Weeeeee, I was gaining speed and having fun. Aaaah…Oh no…I forgot about that darn jump…I can’t control my sled…suddenly I’m airborne…ouch…pain…is the sky really that blue?...oh good, I’m still alive…hysterical laughter.

As I sat up, spitting snow out of my mouth and digging it out from underneath my clothing, my sledding partner walked up to me and said “you didn’t make it all the way down the hill.” “Yeah, I know, but that was a spectacular wipeout, don’t you think?” I replied. “How old are you?” he wanted to know. After I told him, he informed me that he was 5-1/2 and in kindergarten. Next he wanted to know if I was using my kid’s sled. I told him, “No, it’s my sled.” He looked confused. “But you’re not a kid,” he said. “Yeah, but my mind still thinks I am, is that okay with you?” He shrugged his shoulders and we proceeded back up the hill for more sledding.

Disappointed I didn’t make it through the course on my first attempt, I was determined to stay on my sled. My sledding partner challenged me to a race and it was ‘on’. Kid or no kid, I was going to win this race. He started off in the lead, but because of my size and paddling strength I quickly caught up to him. Ha, ha, we were neck and neck. Oh no, not that dreaded jump again…ouch…more pain. Well, at least I managed to stay on my sled this time. I was still short of the finish line though. “Ha, ha, I won!” he taunted me. “Yes you did, but I managed to stay on my sled this time, do I get a prize for that?” “No, he shook his head. Let’s go again.” “Okay, but I’m going to go around the jump this time. I don’t think my back can handle any more jumps.”

Again we raced. “What is it with that @#$#! jump and my sled? That jump is like a sled magnet. Try as I might, I can’t seem to go around that blasted thing!” After about ½ dozen more races all with the same result, I decided to give my back a rest and eat some snow because I was thirsty. My sledding partner joined me for a snow snack and we had a delightful conversation on why it’s not okay to eat yellow snow even though you can if you want to.

Then to my surprise he threw a snowball at me. “Are you sure, you want to do this?” I asked. “I’m a lot bigger than you and I can throw the snowball much farther,” I said jokingly. He spent the next several minutes chasing me around the yard with a snowball before his dad came to my rescue with hot chocolates for the both of us. Now mind you, I’m probably 15 years older than his dad, but he seemed grateful that his son found a playmate/babysitter while he and his one year old watched us play from inside.

Shortly after finishing our hot chocolates I told my sledding partner I needed to go inside. “Why?” he wanted to know. “I’m kinda in a lot of pain and need to take some Advil right now. But, I had a wonderful time and want to do it again some time.” I thanked him for letting me sled with him and then went inside, popped a few Advil and layed on a heating pad for the rest of the afternoon.

Who said sledding is a kid sport?