My senior year in high school was one that I will never forget. My days were filled with reading, learning and preparing for exams; my evenings were filled with rehearsals to prepare for the break-dance competition.
By February 2005, I was restless for something different and exciting. Winter was here, and the fresh snow was calling my name. Each cold winter breeze was pushing my mind away from my routine of school and dance and closer to the tall Ural Mountains and local ski resorts in Russia. I had just started snowboarding two years before, and had come to love this sport. Although nothing could compare to the excitement of being at the top of a giant hill, as if I was on the top of the world. Unfortunately I was not allowed to snowboard that winter because of my busy schedule with finals and dancing.
One February Saturday I couldn’t resist going snowboarding. Even though I left my house in a morning as usual, I did not go to school and rehearsal. Instead, my friend Jane picked me up and we drove three hours to the nearest resort called Sunny Valley. I was so happy to go that I didn’t even feel guilty about ignoring my responsibilities and lying to my parents. The closer we got the faster my heart was beating. It felt like it was going to jump out of my chest.
As soon as we arrived to Sunny Valley, I ran out of the car to see the mountains condition. As I was walking, my feet kept drowning in the snow. What I saw didn’t disappoint me. Mountains were hiding under blanket of fresh snow. Trees looked like gorgeous brides in their white dresses. Weather was as cold as Hitler’s hurt, that I could see my breath. I raised my head up and stared at the flakes of snow swirling down from the sky for a moment and ran back to the car to get ready.
For the next several hours we were jumping from the hills, freestyling and free riding in the woods. My cheeks were frozen from the icy winds but I barely noticed. All I focused on was the music from my earphones, playing my favorite Guano Apes lyrics:
I’ve got the snowboard under my feet
I can fly so high, I can fall so deep.
With the lord of the boards you’ll come and get around
With the lord of the boards, go mad like a clown.”
Over and over again we went up hills of all sizes, doing jumps and freestyling all the way back down. One hill caught my attention; it was bigger than the others. The snow was fresh like the morning dew. It was obvious that no one had been there, and we were excited to be the first to try it. Jane and I made our way to the top, excited like two kids on Christmas Eve.
My friend looked at me. “Ready?” she asked. My heart was racing.
“Set?” I took a deep breath. “GO!”
As we started moving, I could feel the wind on my face and snowflakes all around my head. I felt just like the lord of the board from the song. I prepared for the perfect jump… or what I thought would be the perfect jump. The next thing I remember I was lying on the ground in the most horrific pain ever. It took me a couple minutes to understand what happened. I knew something was wrong, but my mind was so confused. My eyes scanned my body, and when I saw my right wrist I realized this was where my pain was coming from. It was completely twisted; it hurt to move it, to touch it, to even look at it!
Jane ran to me: “Dude, are you Ok?” she asked.
“No…” I responded. I couldn’t say anything else because the pain was so bad.
The only thing I could think of, besides my broken wrist, was the fact that my