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Downhill Marriage

bradolson
Jan 12, 2015
4 min read

Brad Olson, Psy.D., M.Div.

They disappeared into the blizzard snow ahead of me. The last thing I heard was the sound of my two friends laughing like little school girls as they took off down the slope, leaving me, staring like a deer in the headlights into the white blanket of fresh falling snow. It was a blizzard. I had no idea what was in front of me. I had never been here before.

Just moments before, we were laughing and joking on the chairlift. They were explaining to me how cool it was to ski in deep powder, something I had never done before. The ride up was breathtaking. I love mountains and always loved winter sports. The higher we got, the quieter it got as the falling snow deadened the echos of any noises around us. I was enjoying the ride when suddenly we arrived at the top. My friends jumped off the lift and shouted to me, "follow us!" as they took off down the trail to the right. So, I did.

I should have stopped myself when I realized that no one was heading towards the trail they went down. The only fresh tracks in the snow were the ones they just made. The anxious anticipation I had riding up the chairlift quickly disappeared and was replaced by paralyzing fear when I realized they led me down a trail with only one way down the mountain... a black diamond ski run starting at the top of Alta Ski resort. When I came to a small opening, my friends were waiting for me at the crest of the hill... for all of 5 seconds. They jumped over the edge and shouted again, "follow us!" That's when I heard the laughter, disappearing down the mountain.

I stood there for what seemed to be a long time... alone, abandoned, and uncertain. The snow fall around me deadened the sounds of anything or anybody. I had no trail map. No one was coming off the lift and following us... not a good sign. What should I do? I looked back up the trail I came down and considered walking back up to the lift, but we skied a long ways down from there and that option seemed impossible. I had only one thought as I looked down at the wall of snow in front of me, "How can I get down alive... so I can kill my (so-called) friends?" There as no turning back.

So I took a deep breath, mumbled "here goes", and stepped over the edge.

Gravity has a way of moving you along without much effort on your part. It just happens. The turns at the start of my run weren't too bad. They took more work than I thought. The powder felt strange and wouldn't allow me to shift sides without more effort in turning than I was accustomed to. Powder slowed me down like I was in slow motion. I managed about 6 turns before I became one with the snow. A face plant... head to toe snowman. I was surprised at how soft the landing was. It wasn't too bad. Actually, it was kind of fun... like they said it would be. Then I tried to get up. Have you ever tried to get up in deep powder? It took more work than skiing down did, but after 6 or 7 times, you learn how. As I made my way down the hill, there were moments when I had to work hard to stay up. I felt the burn in my legs from the strain my muscles were experiencing. I adjusted my stance to move more smoothly. I fell. I got up. I moved to other parts of the slope to manage the hill better. I was tired. I fell. I got up again. I moved more quickly and confidently. When i managed my turns well and moved quickly, I was thrilled. I enjoyed the air, the snow, and the beauty all around me. As it turns out, I was having fun. Then, I could see the end in sight, and became more hopeful that I was going to make it to the bottom... alive.

At the bottom of the run I stopped and stood there for a moment, letting my muscles relax, surprisingly, not really interested in killing my friends. I leaned on my ski poles panting, and had this thought... skiing is a lot like marriage. No really, a lot like marriage. Each run down the mountain is like a year of marriage. The planning, the anticipation, the excitement, and then the fear at the top as you look ahead at something you've never experienced and don't know what to expect. But you jump into it and the relationship takes off. Like gravity, it moves whether you want it to or not. You work to manage things along the way. You make mistakes, you fall down, and get back up... you help each other up... you learn how to do it better next time. It takes work and you get tired. It is thrilling and scary. You find joy and pleasure along the way. You are challenged more than you have been before. You learn, you grow. You have fun. You get to the bottom... more confident for the second year of marriage because you have made this "run" before, learned from it and know more of what to expect. So, you get in line to do it all over again.

Why? … Why do we get married? Because it is fun. Because it is scary. Because it is challenging. Because it is thrilling. Because we learn from it. Because it causes us to grow. Because God knew there was nothing like it when he created it, and that if we did it his way, we would love it!