What Learning the Hard Way Really Teaches You
On my most recent snowboarding trip (second ever), I couldn’t get the private lesson I’d requested prior to arrival, so I spent two hours trying to figure the board out myself.
I’m still feeling the effects of that weeks later.
All around me there were private lessons going; some were informal, such as by a father to his children. I eavesdropped for nuggets of wisdom that could potentially save my aging vertebrae.
Later that afternoon, a free group lesson started up. I still desperately needed help. I shamelessly joined this group — a motley crew of five kids as old as eleven and young as six (or four? five? At what age do little girls become sassy?).
And as far as these kids were concerned, I was at their learning level, so effectively, I was just another loser kid.
A Pakistani kid named Jaylen (right?) thought we would be riding the diamond mountain (hard difficulty) today and was spooked. “You mean we’re going down THAT thing? HELL naw! That shit’s scary as hell!”
What was I gonna say? Kid was right. I wasn’t riding that shit either.
One of the cooler kids — Crayton (right.) — was getting antsy and bored of the lesson. “This is dumb. I wanna just strap in and go. I bet I could,” he added with a smirk.
I, however, was enthusiastic about practicing and chimed in. “Well, I spent the better part of today just figuring out how to strap into the board and how to turn or even stop. I almost flew off that cliff over there *points*, but luckily I faceplanted on purpose, which saved my life. So learning how the board works and how to stop seems slow and boring, but trust me, it’s a lot better than falling down constantly and still not knowing what you’re doing.”
Crayton probably felt I was bragging about the bruises on my knees as a badge of honor and challenging his status as the elite among us. Sure enough, he grasped the fundamentals quicker than most. Regardless, we all listened closer to instruction after that, and went our separate ways after carving some nice trails on the hill.
What I hope deep down is that when Crayton goes back to his family who flies out to Colorado on weekends to ski at Breckenridge, he remembers that some people less fortunate don’t get the chance to start with a teacher and guidance.
Though I had learned the hard way, I was happy the kids were able to start out with fewer sprains and frustration. After all, the point of practice is to become competent enough to fully enjoy something. Indeed, having an easy start is not without its challenges. Type-A high-performers can become deeply discouraged the first time they experience a roadblock; they haven’t been forced to navigate those before.
Those who didn’t have it as easy may have scars and broken bones, but even these painful lessons can pay off later when conditions are more favorable. With the right mindset, struggle produces grit, clarity, and an openness to new approaches.
Enjoy the unique benefits your path has for you. Then maybe you can use them to help others navigate their disadvantages.
