Like riding a bike, I guess.

You never forget.

Gene & Nate, friends from home, Kris and I went snowboarding the other day. Though I've talked about wanting to do it again, it's been almost 7 years since I last snowboarded. I figured, I was used to the magnificent slopes of the Canadian Rockies, where I first picked up this sport. Banff, Lake Louise; world-class ski resorts. I did it because a cute Japanese-Australian medical student wanted to go skiing. Almost killed myself learning how to snowboard.

How on earth can I ever get used to snowboarding in Minnesota?

It's like comparing a ripe Tanner stage V Jenny McCarthy to a Tanner stage I Kate Moss.

But in the end, I went. I'm glad Gene dragged me along. Initially, I had reservations; after all, I haven't the foggiest idea if I could remember how to snowboard.

Images came to mind of me rolling into the ER, right into the hands of trauma surgeons, with my leg wrapped in cloth inside a bag of ice. I had O-positive scribbled on my forehead, just in case. And I told Kris that if anything happened, I want to be cremated (you readers out there shall bear witness to this) and have my ashes scattered over Playboy Mansion. None of that Anna Nicole courtroom saga.

True, the ski 'resort' here was miniscule compared to the unbelievable slopes of the Rockies, but it sufficed. Enough trails to give you 10 minutes of board-time per run (compared to the 1 hour on some of Lake Louise's trails). Snow was perfect powder. And my body quickly remembered the smooth, gliding swoosh you feel when boarding. I remembered to how to put on the boots. How to turn. How to stop. Even remembered the mandatory robot-like gait a person assumes, walking with the boarding boots. Your ankles are fixed in a semi dorsiflexed position.

It was exhilirating! We spent 4 hours on the slopes. And aside from a few minor face-plants I made while looking at ski-babes while snowboarding, I had no other mishaps.

I'll be back.