Is Trying New Things Really All its Cracked Up to Be?

This winter I prided myself on not only trying something new, but trying something that I’d been afraid of doing for some time. This winter I skied for the first time.

I do try to push myself to try new things, especially things that might seem a bit daunting at first—and I happened to have a friend who was willing to loan me her skis and boots gratis. And so far I’ve survived two weekend trips, although there was a recent weekend when I wasn’t sure that I would return with all my limbs in place.

I guess I was feeling a little cocky after a successful first trip, and then my first few practice runs across a fairly flat practice area during this second trip. I managed a few turns, was able to plow my way to a stop more than once and didn’t mow over a single child (unlike my first trip). So late that afternoon, after quite a bit of practice, I agreed to go with my traveling companion/ski instructor up the lift to the top of the formidable “Happy Village Trail.”

I trusted the more experienced skier at my side and followed the signs to the beginner’s trail. I admired the scenery as I glided along the few bumps on the flat trail, and everything was fine. However, we soon came upon a sign that gave us a moment’s pause. “Happy Village Trail bypass” the sign said. Two large green circles marked the top. Without a map, and with the sun beginning to set and cast shadows below the trees, we didn’t have a clear idea of which was the best path to follow. The trail we’d been following seemed to circle around the villas at the top of the hill, while this bypass seemed to aim in a leisurely downward direction. Since they both looked about the same, we followed the bypass.

Oh, foolish mistake! Before long the trail had dropped off into at least a 5-degree slope, and the shadows cast by the lights on either side of the trail made the bumps in the snow appear even bigger. Within ten minutes my jacket was soaked by repeated tumbles into the snow and I was beginning to realize that the friend who had loaned me her ski boots had feet at least one shoe size smaller than mine. To cut my story short, I’ll just say that my skis were off well before we made it back to the lodge—or the bottom of the hill.

Luckily, I was eventually convinced that I did not in fact hate skiing, that it is not actually an awful excuse for a sport, etc. (words spoken in the heat of the moment I assure you, my friends from Minnesota and other points far north), and I took up my poles again the next day. I started out slowly but eventually worked my way up to a simple trail (map secure in my pocket) where I was able to build upon the skills I had learned previously. By the end of the weekend I had gotten over that one bad experience to the point that those bypasses were the most fun part of the slope. I guess you could say I got what I deserved for setting out without a map, or assuming I could take the skills learned in one arena and automatically apply them to a new situation.

It helps to have a map, or a plan, in place before setting off on something new, not to mention the guidance of individuals who have “been there and done that.” That’s just what the latest blogger for USGNN.com/USGlass, Pete Chojnacki, is looking for as he starts to add his two cents to our line-up. We’re thrilled to have Pete’s input, especially because he is looking for more input from our readers as continues to grow FabTech LLC.

I might also rub in my recent lesson that just because two paths might look the same from a distance, they aren’t necessarily identical once seen up close. Take residential and commercial construction for instance. Pete has a background in the residential side of this industry, and while he’s applying those skills he learned from his previous positions, he knows he has a bit of a learning curve for his new role.

As a matter of fact, this seems to be a lesson many primarily residential companies are learning these days; check out this recent story on the joint venture between PGT Industries and ASI LIMITED.

What do you think? Are these two trails—residential and commercial—vastly different or is the “scenery” fairly similar? Share your thoughts by sending me an email at mheadley@glass.com or stopping by our message board.