Aug 25 2010
Look at me I’m skiing! Oh wait, I guess I’m just walking… like a douchebag.
Sure, walking is pretty extreme on its own, but add some fucking ski poles and suddenly you’re the (insert name of famous skier here because I don’t know any) of the neighborhood walking club. With enough practice, you might even make the Olympic walking-around-the-suburbs team!
One time, I was Nordic pole walking and I saw this deep crevasse up ahead. I mean this thing was at least 4 inches deep and a foot across! I was thinking maybe I should pole my way across the street, you know for my own safety, but something in me said, “Go for it, fucking go for it dude.” So I approached the gaping crevasse without fear because I had my poles! I approached the edge of the great hole, sweat pouring into my eyes, and planted my poles. Suddenly it was as if I was weightless and I found myself sailing over the abyss. I’ve never felt so free!
Unfortunately, I misjudged my jump and fell on my face. I was so mad because I ripped my best walking pants. Stupid poles.
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