One of the unfortunate yet great things about becoming a part of a serious, committed relationship is that over time, the two people fuse into one. You have the same friends, you have the same interests, root for the same teams, and inevitably lose your individuality to a certain extent and are now seen as a couple. "Bennifer" is my best example for those of you who follow Hollywood drama. When I stepped out on my own for the first time in my life I had to figure out who I was. What did I love doing? I had lived so long for the other person I got lost. The first thing I did was teach myself to snowboard. I had always wanted to learn. None of my girlfriends were at all interested, but were instead opting to run marathons, which is just not my thing. So for four months, I went every free evening I had during the week and fell and fell and fell. There were days at work I could't sit down. Nights on the lift I would tear trying to hold my board up. But I was addicted. The adrenaline rush of knowing I could get hurt, the speed, the snow glistening like glitter under the night lights. It was all I could do to get out of work, turn up the radio, and get on that mountain. To this day I prefer riding at night, in the quiet, alone. I would love to find someone to go with, but there is a serene calmness to it that I crave. It isn't a social thing for me, it's about the ride. Just the mere sound of the crisp, fresh powder under my board as I carve my way down, picking up speed, faster and faster, feels like a slice of heaven to me. One of my seven tattoos is my snowboard logo on my right wrist. A constant reminder of who I am and what I can accomplish all on my own.
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