Imagine this... wind is just blowing through your hair as your adrenaline ramps up your body in preparation to go down a black diamond. You are carving left and right through the freshly blanketed snow from the winter storm the previous evening. You are feeling like you now own that run. You catch some air time and then slowly start to slow down as you glide into the line for the next ski lift.

Well if you are anything like me, that most definitely not how you experienced your first run down a real mountain. My first time snowboarding on fresh mountain snow was terrifying. My cousin had asked if I had any experience on real snow. Because I felt the need to take charge of the situation, I simply told him 'yes, of course. Why would you ask me that?'

So my family went skiing up at Gunstock Mountain in New Hampshire. When we got there, he had said that it was okay if I needed to ride the bunny hills with my sister. I looked at him with such cocky confidence and said 'I will have no association with this thing you call a "Bunny Hill." We are gonna race when get to the top.'

Now, you have to understand that I had never been on a ski lift. So when we got to the ski lift I was confused as anything. Yet I refused to be the kid who stops the whole lift.

As I prepared for my effortless ride up, I had forgot about the chair and it swooped me up so fast I felt like it was Hawk coming in grabbing me like I was some weak Chihuahua. It knocked my breath away. Anyway, thankfully my cousin didn't notice or my cover would have been blown.

So I am riding up this contraption with my feet just dangling 50 feet up in the sky. I HATE HEIGHTS. My cousin was just talking away. Meanwhile, I am over here contemplating who go to my funeral if I had made a subtle movement and slipped out of the ski lift.

But wait there's more! I found out mid way through my ride that the ski lift doesn't stop at the top and you have to slide ride on down to the run. Again, now I was preparing myself mentally to have an effortless dismount so I could prove to my cousin that I knew what I was doing.

Spoiler alert, I had no clue what I was doing and as soon as I had dismounted I ate it. Ate it is an understatement. I mean I was like those videos where someone is trying to prevent from falling but they just make it worse. Kind of like a super model falling down on a runway. I am pretty sure I accidentally pushed a terrified kid down the slopes. If so, then mean, I was just helping him face his fears in a expedited way.

My gig was up. Now everyone on top of mountain knew I was inexperienced and my cousin was skeptical of the expertise I claimed I had.

Well this was it, we were going to race! On your marks... get set... GO!

Yeah I feel down four feet into the run. My cousin on the other hand was already at the first checkpoint. The race was already over. He had then watched me go down the mountain like I was Humpty Dumpty.

But then at that moment my savior came. She was a five foot tall woman that probably weighed half my weight. She was a family friend who used her ski pole to drag me out of the place where I had been stuck.

For the rest of the run she had patience with me and taught me the complete basics of snowboarding. After like fifty falls, I eventually got the hang of it. I was actually carving and doing great.

But you know what? I got cocky again. I figured out that as a snowboarder, I should always avoid a trail called 'moguls'.

On my last run of the day, I had built up enough confidence and skill to have some speed going down the mountain. Well I felt really cocky and wanted to explore so I went down the trail that was labeled 'moguls'. I was cruising on a mission. I was high on life. Everything was great! Until I noticed these bumps in the snow, it was too late.

Have you ever seen Micheal Jordan gracefully dunk a basketball. Well imagine me doing that but my body was inverted and there is moguls everywhere. I was in slow motion and again, contemplating who would come to my funeral.

Fortunately for me, I was driven away with a minor concussion. No big deal, right? But now everything is great and I actually love snowboarding!

The moral of this story is to make sure you go out and face your fears. I mean I never want see another mogul again, but at least I can say that I attempted to conquer them.

So there you go. Learn from my mistakes. Avoid moguls AT ALL COST. Don't get too cocky and go shred some fresh powder.