The Ultimate Ski Crash and My Latest Concussion

I Was Having the Best Ski Runs of My Life… Until I Wasn’t

I’ve skied my whole life.

I grew up in Park City, Utah.

Yes, I spent as many days on the mountain as I could through my entire youth.

And when I get the chance now, I’m still out there (usually at Brighton in Big Cottonwood Canyon, SLC, UT) doing what I’ve always loved to do.

 

 

I’ll just say it plainly: I’m a very good skier.

I like to go fast. I like to push it. I like to feel my legs burn by the end of a run because I’ve gone all in.

Is this surprising? I’m The Promise Guy – that means, I’m all in on pretty much everything I do.

But the last few times I’d been out skiing, something felt off.

My skis were… sticky. Not terrible. Just enough that I noticed it.

Enough that I kept thinking: “I really need to wax these.”

But like a lot of things we know we should do…I didn’t. Because I didn’t want to take the time. I wanted more runs. More speed. More time on the mountain.

Until finally, on this particular day, I stopped, paid the $25. I waited 15 minutes and got the skis waxed.

 

 

And let me tell you…The next two runs?

Some of the best ski runs of my life!

Fast. Smooth. Effortless. Exactly what I’d been missing.

And I remember thinking: this is it.

This is what happens when you actually take the time after reading Dr. Stephen Covey’s 7 Habits of Highly Effective People and you sharpen the saw.

So I got on the lift, pulled out my phone, and decided I was going to share that lesson on a selfie video – because it felt so clear at that moment.

You take care of your tools… and they take care of you.

And as I’m sitting there, filming this video, explaining this concept…I go to show my skis to the camera.

And immediately drop both of my ski poles.

Right off the lift.

Just gone.

Head slap.

And I remember thinking, well, what on earth is that all about? You doofus, how did you let that happen while recording a powerful lesson post?

So, I stop recording, deflated, as my teaching the lesson just possibly ruined my day…

Here’s the video and you can see how bummed I am.

 

 

 

Next, I ski down to the bottom, retrace the run, and I find only one of my ski poles.

Not both, just one.

And instead of stopping… instead of saying, “Hey, maybe I should reset here”…I just kept skiing. Because, in reality, who really needs both poles?

I was on a steep run. With one pole, and freshly waxed skis. Still riding the high of how good everything felt.

Up and down the mountain over and over and over. Pure JOY.

On about the eighth time down that same run…well, it caught up to me.

The ultimate crash. The kind people win money for on epic disaster video TV shows.

It’s called “A full yard sale”.

Everything. Gone.

Gloves. Goggles. Pole. All of it.

And I hit hard. In fact, my head hit the icy mountainside so hard I wondered if I would be getting back up.

My head slammed back hard enough that I knew instantly this wasn’t just a little fall, and I may be in trouble.

I didn’t black out completely, but I saw only black and some stars…just like in the cartoons…never felt that before.

Now I’m sliding down the mountain, trying to regain control, trying to stop myself.

People are skiing over asking if I need ski patrol… if they should call a helicopter…

My response? “No, I’m fine… do you know where my glasses lenses or goggles are?”

Which probably tells you everything you need to know about my state at that moment.

Eventually I gather everything up, make my way over to a flat spot, and start putting myself back together…

Right under the lift.

With everyone watching.

I’m not feeling great!

I’m hurting and humiliated.

I’m pretty sure I’ve got at least a mild concussion, which would be confirmed later by the doc.

But I make my way down the mountain.

Only later do I see the visible damage.

There’s a crease across my forehead from the impact; my helmet pressed into my head hard enough to leave a line from my hairline down to my eyebrows.

 

 

I was NOT about to tell my family about this ski accident.

Of course, however, as I walk in the door at home, my wife and son take one look at me and say: “What happened?!”

I hadn’t planned on telling the story, as I knew it would upset them, but it was already written on my face.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized…this wasn’t just a ski accident. This was a reminder.

Because I knew my skis needed to be waxed…and I put it off.

I got them fixed, but then immediately got distracted.

I compromised when I lost a pole, and kept going anyway.

Then, all of it stacked.

Small decisions. Tiny moments. Things that didn’t seem like a big deal. Until they were.

Because here’s the truth: You don’t get to skip the basics just because you’re good.

Confidence doesn’t protect you from consequences.

Discipline does.

Taking care of what allows you to perform; your tools, your focus, your body…that’s not optional.

That’s the responsibility.

Because the things you love to do, the things that bring you joy, fulfillment, energy – Those are also the things that can cost you the most if you stop respecting them.

So the question becomes:

Where are you cutting corners?

Where are you distracted?

Where are you relying on your experience instead of your discipline?

Because it’s usually not one big decision that takes you out. It’s the accumulation of small ones. If you want to keep doing what you love, you have to take care of what makes it possible.

And having such discipline, actually doing it, that is The Promise.