Jumping, Jumping, Jumping

So now that it has dropped below 10 degrees I feel like I can finally blog about some winter things.

Jumping

I don't wear pajamas. My bedroom is above the unheated garage. My room is 40 degrees. Well, not really, but at 7:30 AM doesn't every room feel like it is 40 degrees. Well my room actually is... no that really happened. Every morning I snap awake in a panic. I wake up fifteen minutes before my alarm goes off (my body has trained itself to do this because my alarm clock is so loud it gives me a heart attack, so my body over compensates by giving me a heart attack before my alarm goes off) and I wake up in such a panic that my first thoughts are, "I'm panicking. I must have over slept." But even in the presence of that misinformation, I am reluctant to leave my bed. Not that I'm tired, but my nearly naked body will have to jump from my warm bed through the icy tundra of my room to the warmth of my shower, then jump from my shower across the freezing tile floor to get my towel, jumping back into the steam residue of the shower to dry off, jumping back through my room fast enough to grab some clothes so I can get dressed in the hall where my wet body won't drop into hypothermia, so I can jump into my cold car and come to work.

There are too many temperature changes for me in the morning. I don't even want to start my day, because of the giant degree swings that await me.

Jumping

I went snowboarding with my Dad on Tuesday. It took awhile to get used to my new board. It is faster and longer. But by the end of the day I was trying out jumps and grinding rails. To all those who don't know: longer board = harder to control. I fell on a six foot long, one foot wide metal bar.

Man I love this sport.

Jumping