I’ve said it before, and I’m sure I’ll say it again. It can be really hard being me.
Take for example the fact that I want to be a fun-loving adventure seeking outdoor enthusiast, but I have really really bad hand-eye coordination.
I would love to be the type of girl who straps on her chacos, grabs her nalgene bottle and then whips out her harness, hurling a lean and sculpted body up some gnar gnar crags, but in reality I’m the girl wearing some borrowed climbing gear swinging from the ropes asking, “I PUT MY HAND WHERE???”
I’ve always been way better at learning and applying the vocabulary needed for extreme sports than I have been at the actual doing of those extreme sports.
Sure, I’ll go through phases thinking, “Oh I run marathons! That means I’m tough!” And then I’ll go buy some piece of gear that makes me feel tough. Like the time I bought the mountain bike. I said to myself, “Alison! You are so eXtreme, you are going to kill those mountains!” But in reality what I did was get two dates in the same day with guys who were really good at mountain biking. Mind you, this was BEFORE I was married.
I think in total I dated three guys because of that mountain bike. But I totally didn’t buy it to get guys! I really did want to be an extreme biker chick. Instead I just pranced around in some spandex, figured out all the needed “key words” and managed to get some guy to carry my bike for me. I was never very good at it and I would fall off all the time. Like, ALL THE TIME. But like I said, I seriously suck at being coordinated.
I’ve never liked skiing or snowboarding. I used to think it was because I’m a big scardy-cat and I don’t like risk. But after years of toughening up and trying to be a go-getter, I decided, I can ski!
So I had a friend, (alright! You caught me, it was yet another boyfriend!) Get me all suited up to go skiing. I WAS HORRIBLE AT IT. And not because I was afraid of trying things. I just naturally zig in places you should obviously zag, and I ended up flying off of some random jump and rolling down the hill without my skis. It was awful. Not to mention embarrassing.
I don’t know why I can’t get it through my thick skull that I’m bad at sports, all sports, no matter how badly I want to be good at them. This weekend was yet another example.
Eric’s family decided to do a camping family vacation in Moab. They planned lots of fun, family-friendly activities. One of these activities was a family mountain bike ride on a fairly easy bike trail.
Even the “easy” trails in Moab aren’t THAT easy. But Eric’s mom was in tow, and she managed to handle it. The bikes were awesome and super fun because they were so nice. I started getting all “Alison is so tough and extreme like” and began to revert back to my old mountain biking days a bit.
Eric’s sister Courtney was just up ahead of me as we started heading downhill on some slick rock. Courtney, being smart and realistic, started slowing down a bit right as I was really starting to get some SWEET SPEED. I then realized I was about to head directly into the back of her so I started to brake. Well…you can all imagine the rest. I had to break to the point that it threw me off my bike, I tried to jump off the bike instead, when I proabably should have just fallen off, and I ended up being propelled from the bike with great speed into the slick rock. The good news was, Courtney was fine, the bad news was, I landed ON MY TEETH.
Yes, my two front teeth, flat against the slick rock. Eric was behind me and ran up to see if I was ok. Of course my only concern was for my teeth. He looked at them and didn’t see any obvious chips, so he said they were fine. I WAS SO TOUGH I didn’t even cry. I just, very very embarrassingly, got back on my bike, after Eric and his dad put the gears back in place, and finished the trail.
My leg was scratched up and bleeding, and I had some nasty bruises forming on my thy, but what I was most concerned about were my teeth. I was a little shaken, but still trying to play it cool. It wasn’t until I looked in the mirror after returning to the car that I really lost it.
I immediately started sobbing and looked at Eric and said, “MY TEETH! MY TEETH ARE CRACKED! YOU SAID THEY WEREN’T CRACKED!”
He came running up and double checked my hysteria. Yes, my two front teeth were in fact cracked. They look like surface cracks, you can’t see them unless you catch them in the right light. But there was no doubt about it. Sporty woman Alison had cracked her freaking teeth on the FAMILY BIKE RIDE.
The rest of the family, who were behind us, finished the trail and rode up to find me in the parking lot sobbing. I was SO EMBARRASSED. And then of course, everyone wanted to come and look at my teeth. I would have none of it. I instead got in the car and started silently sobbing because:
1. I was worried I would have to get caps or something awful
2. I DON’T HAVE INSURANCE
Eric’s family returned the bikes and we went to find a dentist. Which really sucks because we all know how I feel about the dentist.
He took some x-rays, blah blah blah, said I could finish out the vacation if I promised to go to the dentist first thing when I got back, yadda yadda, worst case scenario ROOT CANAL, sob sob. You know the drill.
He was a VERY nice dentist and I wish he didn’t live in Moab so I could go to him because I don’t have a dentist here yet. This was on Friday and my tooth still hurts today, so I don’t think that’s a good thing.
Anyway. That’s my story. And I hope we can all learn some important lessons:
1. Never follow to closely to others, whether it be on the bike or even in the car
2. Always renew your insurance within 30 days of quitting your job otherwise you will have to wait until January to get on your husband’s insurance through open-enrollment
I hope you can learn from my mistakes. Any dentist suggestions in the Orem area would be greatly appreciated.