Training is hard.

This past year, during a family ski trip to Whistler, Preston's family convinced me to go down this really steep black ski run, which we now call the Katie Wipeout Trail. It didn't look that bad from far away, which is when I agreed to do it.

I didn't realize how steep it really was until I was standing at the ledge (yes, there was a ledge) looking down at the three of them, thinking that riding down the mountain on the back of a ski partol snowmobile seemed very appealing... except that the snowmobiles couldn't make it to the top of this ski run to get me.

So I went. And I fell. It was a good fall; I slid about 50 feet. I think People clapped. When I finally stopped, this man that skied like a gazelle brought me my skis and helped me get back up. He said in his Arnold Swartenager voice, "I just saw you fall. Training is hard." I imagine that he was a coach for the paraolympics(which were taking place in Whistler at the time) that took pity on me, but needless to say that in return for his helpfulness, my family mocked his accent for the rest of the week.

But, as with all types of training I assume, it is easy to fall. To get behind. Until today, I hadn't even looked at Rosetta Stone for one whole month. Although I don't have a gazelle like Austrian Paraolympic ski coach to help me up on a regular basis, I can kick my own self in the butt and get a move on things.

Today, I started unit two of four in the first level of Rosetta Stone French, covering exciting topics such as the numbers 7-12, families and playing soccer.

I also finished two sections of the Enriched Air Diver speciality certification, which I signed up for online.

So basically, I know what enriched air is and that I need to have someone that knows their stuff service my tanks. Considering I don't have my own tanks, I think I'm good so far.