A few weeks before Christmas, I did something spectacularly stupid. Or at least, that’s the way it felt as I was flying through the air 20 feet off the ground, my arms flapping wildly and my body twitching like a freshly-landed fish.
I’d been out in Italy checking out the British Olympic ski & snowboard team’s secret weapon – a giant airbag set up on the landing of a jump to reduce the risks when they’re trying new tricks. Like an idiot, I’d allowed myself to be talked into having a go at hitting their absolute beast of a kicker.
“It served as a sobering reminder of the difference in skill level between Olympic athletes and us mere mortals.”
Thankfully, the airbag did its stuff, so when I crash-landed I came to no harm. But the sheer size of the whole thing came as quite a shock. The speed needed to clear it, the height it kicked you up in the air, the distance you travelled. It was all so much bigger than anything I’d ever hit before, and it served as sobering reminder of the difference in skill level between Olympic athletes and us mere mortals.