Yes, I have lived in Switzerland all this time and never learned to ski. My reasoning was simple: that first experience had been discouraging, difficult, and unfulfilling. I saw no reason to pursue the sport any further.

Over the years, I could not help but feel left out when winter outings were organized. Each time colleagues eagerly prepared for the annual ski trip, I stayed behind, missing not only the fun but also opportunities for connection and team bonding.

The First Attempt: A Recipe for Discouragement

Looking back, my first ski lesson had all the trappings of a disaster. At that time, I was not in a good place personally and lacked the energy or enthusiasm to approach something new. The rental boots were too tight, causing pain throughout the two-hour session. The snow was icy from rain the day before, and my instructor believed in a “feel your way” method, offering little practical guidance such as how to snowplough to control speed.

The result of those two hours was painful feet, sore arms, and a deep sense of defeat. I decided I would never ski again.

Taking the Plunge

Fast forward to December of 2024, the talk of the upcoming company ski outing began. I saw, as I do every year, skiers with their gear on Swiss trains, heading to or returning from the slopes. Winter sport shops filled with new equipment and aggressive advertisements.

But this year was different. I found myself on the “wiser” side of 40, and I made a personal resolution: each year I would re-examine one strongly held belief about what I cannot do. I have many such beliefs, and I chose the least intimidating one to start with. You can imagine the rest of the list — which I will continue writing about as this journey unfolds.

On December 30th 2024, I bought my own basic ski clothes. On January 2nd 2025, I drove to a small ski station about 45 minutes from home, rented skis and boots, and met my instructor for the day — Pascal.

Round Two: A Humbling Restart

I fell before the lesson had even begun — while holding onto the ski lift. Pascal promptly helped me up. First embarrassment, first frustration — but I pushed through.

By the end of my second lesson on January 4, I had learned to snowplough with enough control to descend a gentle slope. I even managed to avoid colliding with an adventurous five-year-old on the way down.

Still, it was progress. I could now use the ski lift without falling and navigate a “green” slope independently. But I was skiing in a straight line, picking up too much speed and not enjoying the descent.

Pascal wanted to teach me how to turn and control my path. After two more lessons, I still could not manage to change direction effectively.

When Pascal was unavailable the following week, I booked a lesson with another instructor, Jean. Again, I struggled to learn how to turn properly. By the end of that lesson, I was frustrated and disappointed.

The Turning Point

The following week, I decided to return to the green slope on my own, without an instructor. To my surprise, everything started to make sense. I was able to turn and even complete a basic slalom.

This was only my fifth day ever skiing (sixth, if I count that first failed attempt fifteen years ago).

I attribute this “breakthrough” to two strategies that my excellent instructors used. Pascal and Jean, I am sure are not reading this, but I would recommend you guys any day.

First is that they removed my (quite legitimate) fear of falling and perhaps more importantly, falling and hurting other people on the slopes. They achieved this by showing me how to slow down and stop. Second is that they taught me solid techniques and did not compromise the important in the service of expedient. They were clear about skiing being a sport that carries real risks, and insisted on mastering the basics properly before attempting more difficult slopes.

With their guidance, they created a space where even someone over forty could learn a challenging new skill at their own pace — without judgment or pressure.

Ironically, the absence of the instructor did the last bit; I was free to ski down the slope choosing my direction and speed. There was no learning objective of the day, and all the training finally came together.

Why Share This Story?

My life was perfectly fine before I learned to ski, and it remains fine now that I can (barely) ski. And objectively, this is not a remarkable achievement. In Switzerland, many four-year-olds ski far better than I do.

I am sharing this story not only to shed my remaining ego but also to make a point: we all have self-limiting beliefs holding us back. Perhaps these beliefs were genuinely useful when formed, but years later, they might be dictating our choices when they shouldn’t.

But here is the thing: I discovered a new source of enjoyment, and more importantly, I wonder what other opportunities for fulfillment or growth I might be missing because of my own limiting beliefs.

Beyond the slopes

It is very likely that you have come across the story of how elephants are domesticated for circus work. It starts when the elephant is young; she is first tied down when she is small and not yet strong enough to break the rope. She will try at first, try as hard as she can to break free, but after repeated failed attempts, they stop trying. By the time they are fully grown and capable of easily breaking free, the belief that they cannot do so holds them in place.

As I continue to explore and challenge my own limiting beliefs, I invite you to consider doing the same. Feel free to share in the comments if you are comfortable — perhaps you, too, are ready to “break the ice” on something you thought was not for you.