A massive headache at the back of my skull. Sore ribs. Shallow breaths being pumped out by burning lungs. Clammy skin. A dull pain in my hip when I walked. Plain exhaustion. Sounds like such a miserable ordeal. Each one by themselves could put a damper on life at the moment. 

     And I was actually enjoying it.

     Now I know that that sounds weird. Did I really like being so miserable? Well, no, that sucked, especially the headache. I didn’t enjoy the pain, but rather how I got the pain: sledding.

     Yes, sledding. Such a dangerous and excruciating ordeal. But when you go to “Murder Hill,” it really is. It was Jon, Max, and my turn this time; all our other friends had ditched us the time before. But no matter, the three of us would do just fine. We always stuck together. 

     When we arrived, early afternoon on a Sunday, we were pleased. Bright sun, still air. The temperature was just low enough to remind us that it was still winter, though not low enough to dominate our attention. What else could we have asked for? It was perfect sledding weather. Then we looked at the hill; let me just say that “Murder Hill” was the perfect nickname for it. While some hills are steep, and others are tall, this hill decided that it wanted to be both. And the snow could only be called snow in a technical definition; it was so compressed and slick from repeated sledding over the past couple of weeks that it was practically ice now. It was like a little mountain.

     Would the day be challenging? Likely so. Did we care? Not at all; we just wanted to go sledding, no matter what it would take. So we held our sleds firmly, put our heads down, and trudged up the hill for the first time--an arduous task on its own.

     Finally, we arrived at the top. I laughed to myself a little bit after a thought popped into my head. “What?” asked Max.

     I shook my head, smiling. “Took us five minutes to walk all the way up here just so that we can go back down in less than twenty seconds.” Jon shook his head at my dumb humor.

     It didn’t take long for the hill to bite back at us. Max had come close to smashing into some trees. Jon had screwed up his knee after trying to ride a cheap snowboard meant for kids. And I was the one who had decided to test the jump that we had built.  When I went down, I must’ve hit it just right. I went higher into the air than I should have, and I came down hard.

     My friends could hear the crash from the top of the hill. The impact of hard plastic on ice reverberated through my body. I hadn’t felt such an impact since I’d played offensive line back in sixth grade. I couldn’t focus on the pain though, as I was going much faster, and I saw that I was headed straight for the trees that Max had avoided earlier. I had no choice but to bail right away. I ditched the sled and rolled down the rest of the hill. I could feel the hard ice through my arms. By the time I came to a stop, not only did my body ache all over, but my head was also spinning.

     So that’s how it went: three friends, three hours of sledding. I may have been sore for the next couple of days, but I took the pain in with open arms. I couldn’t have asked for a better way to spend my Sunday. We were three life-long friends, just hanging out. We’ve gone through a lot, growing and maturing greatly over the years since meeting each other back in kindergarten. Deep down though, we’ll always be young and fun at heart when we’re together.