Frost - #JustWriteIt #Sports

Pressure

The rest of the run wasn't fun. My feet were too cold. I let my dad go ahead of me, and I triangle-plowed behind him, slow and cautious. The reactive force of gravity, and the incline of the hill, pressed my shins against the front of my ski boots. My feet didn't have the same shooting pain as before, they hurt more, and began to feel like they were going to explode. 

I had luck on my side, and before my feet exploded, the ski run flattened out, which allowed me to stand flat-footed, and I was able to wiggle my toes. We rounded the final corner of the cat-track, and saw the chairlift. The wind picked up. I put one of my red mittens over my mouth to block it's bite, and followed my dad as he entered the line-up for the chairlift. 

"Let me help you do up that top button." My dad removed one of his gloves, pulled the zipper tight on the top of my jacket, and clipped the top button. He looked at me with a questioning look. 

"Your hands warm enough?" he asked.

"Not re-ally." I said. My shivering jaw causing me to stutter. 

"Here, give them to me." he pulled off his second glove and bent down to help me take off my mittens.

 My dad put both my hands in his and raised them to his mouth. "When I wiped-out, some of the snow went down my neck too." I said. 

"How's that feel." My dad asked, pausing from blowing hot, warm air onto them. If only he could blow warm air on my feet, I thought. 

"Better thanks." 

"You were skiing great up there Nick." My dad said helped me put my mittens back on. The wind was cold, and the warmth they had briefly experienced was gone by the time I squeezed my fisted hands inside each one.

"Th-anks dad." 

"You'd think it was a holiday with all these people in line," My dad stomped his skis on the snow. "Sure you're ok after that spill?" 

"It's just the co-ld, on-ce I get war-med up I'll be ok." I said, my words getting chomped between chattering teeth.

"It looks like it's moving pretty quick." My dad said.

"Is it a 'High-Speed Quad'?" 

"Yup, one of the new ones."

"My feet hurt." I admitted. 

"Once we get moving again you'll be fine." 

"Ok." I said under my breath. 

A gust of wind picked up and a snow drift blasted through the line up. I pressed my chin against my chest. My dad pushed his right ski out and we merged into the lane ours. The chairlift was collecting groups four at a time and I watched the group of snowboarders who had been on the gondola with us sit down together and lift off the snow on the bench of one of the chairs. 

We got closer and closer and the cold and the wind and the sound of the chairlift all became overwhelming. The shivering which had started in my body was now in my mind. My thoughts were shaky and fragile. I crept along next my dad in fear of the upcoming chairlift ride and how cold it would be. 

There was no going back. From standing, to sitting, to being lifted into the air; it all happened so fast I don't remember when I first started crying. My dad noticed when he lowered the safety bar and he put his arm around me and pulled me closer to him.