The days of winter break were slowly counting down. Twenty. Nineteen. Eighteen. Seventeen. Soon enough, it was only two days away from our annual family trip. One year, my family and I went to Washington to camp at Olympic National Park. Another year in New York, my family and I went during New Years Eve to watch the famous Times Square Ball Drop. This year, my family decided to go skiing in Brian Head, Utah. I was thrilled to go skiing I had bought a whole matching ski outfit. Pink ski jacket, pink jeans, pink boots, pink socks, pink gloves, and a pink long sleeve polka dot shirt.

At the crack of dawn, I was already at the top of Bunny Hill ready to ski. I bent my legs, straightened my ski goggles, gave one last wedgy defined pull to my pink jeans, took a deep breath, and used my ski pole to start my momentum down the hill. The first slow, simple feet of hill was a breeze. No difficulty. No stress. The cold, icy wind began to blow on my chubby cheeks, causing my the flesh on my cheeks to undulate. I surprisingly was skiing with perfect mechanics: a little bend of the legs, back straight, and feet forward. The wind's speed started to pick up, I was going faster down the hill. I thought skiing was easy at first, but slowly my legs began to flail about helplessly and I started to lose my balance.

Wobbling back and forth to try find my balance, my left foot kicks up in the air, sending myself head first into a tumble down the hill. The nightmare was just beginning. I opened my eyes and I could see the world around me spinning round and round. It was like watching a wheel on a car spin as fast as it could. Snow was getting into my hair and mouth, let alone I had began to taste the wet snow along with chunks of dirt and leaves. Tumbling down the hill felt like a never ending black hole. I was unable to stop myself. Eventually, I could feel the cold, white snow covering my entire body from head to toe. BOOM! I finally came to stop when I crashed straight into the thick trunk of the tree. My back hit square on the tree, which gave an enormous shock throughout my body. Luckily I hit the tree with my back instead of my head. The dizziness began to fade away from the amount of pain I accumulated on my back. After a solid 10 minutes of laying on the ground, I stood back up, regained my balance and tried again. Attempt after attempt, failure was inevitable. I was unable to reach the bottom of the hill once without falling. Realizing the countless times I fell, I finally had given up.

In the result of me giving up, I ended up sitting next to my mom watching my family and other families ski. I watched skiers go up and down the hill numerous times, but one girl caught my attention. Again and again, this girl repeatedly fell. Whether on her face, back, or butt. Because she would get back up immediately after falling every time, I could perceive she was very determined to be successful. People could achieve anything with the amount of determination she possessed, but I noticed she wasn't getting anywhere. In the last 10 minutes, she fell about thirty times. At this rate, she would accomplish one perfect ski down the hill in twenty years. At one moment, I seen the girl skiing past the halfway point of the hill without falling. Now passing the three-fourths mark of the hill, it was her best record yet. I thought to myself she was certain to fall soon, surprisingly she was still going. Soon enough, she reached the end of the hill and was jumping with joy.

Realizing if the little girl, who had just as difficult time as me, was able to be successful in the end, I too could be successful. I sprung to my feet and marched toward the top of the hill. I inhaled a deep breathe and pushed off the top of the hill with my ski poles. My first attempt was the same as always, falling after traveling a couple of feet. I ended up falling frequently in the last 5 minutes. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine times. I was ready to give up, but I attempted to ski down the hill one last time. I took a deep breath and then slowly slid myself off the slope. I concentrated mostly on my balance and not falling. I astonished myself by beginning to ski without falling to the halfway mark. Continuing to successfully ski, I was having fun. The icy, cold wind was hitting my cheeks, while freezing my tongue to a stiff. The thought of failing was totally out of my mind. Because I was having fun, time flew by in an instance. Realizing I was standing at the bottom of the hill, untouched by snow, I had reached the bottom of the hill without falling. My mind was blown, did I actually ski down the hill successfully? I looked towards my mom and she had been clapping for me. I actually successfully skied down the hill, something I thought I would have never achieved.

I realized the little girl was a reflection of myself. Failure after failure, the little girl was exactly like me. She was struggling throughout the entire day: unable to get on the ski's, unable to balance on the thin, metal ski's, and unable to turn with the ski's. Because she constantly kept failing, tumbling onto her face repeatedly, she could only go up from there. Fall after fall, the little girl always got back up, with no hesitation, and tried again. After failing hundreds of times, the little girl finally had her success. Her success became my motive to try again.