I underwent a paradigm shift over the New Year holiday.

A paradigm shift is when the way you perceive something or the way you feel about it is quickly and dramatically altered.

Here's an example. Say this guy shows up late for work fairly frequently. You are his boss.

This day, he's more late than usual. You figure he has overslept - again. You conjure up all these mental images of this slovenly, lazy guy blowing off work.

How dare he? People have to cover for him. There is lost productivity. There are morale problems created with the other employees.

A half hour later he shows up. You confront him. "Where have you been?" you ask impatiently.

The employee has a blank look on his face as he answers, "My dad died last night. I came in to request some time off."

Wham.

Your emotions shift from anger to sympathy to shame all in the blink of an eye. You feel guilty for ever having been angry at that person.

My paradigm shift was not nearly that dramatic.

It involved cross country skiing.

Our family has been skiing in Michigan for several years. We go up maybe three times a year, weather permitting, mostly just for a day.

My wife started cross country skiing a couple seasons ago. She always seemed to enjoy it. Said it was a great workout.

It always looked lame to me. I couldn't see the attraction. I never tried it, but I just knew it wouldn't be much of a challenge.

In fact, one of my neighbors was out skiing one winter day a few years back.

She stopped to chat and somehow or another I was able to blurt out to her that I thought cross country skiing was lame.

Classy guy, huh?

So a couple months ago I'm in the Goodwill store and there is a set of cross country skis in there for $10. But it's half price day so the skis are only $5.

My wife tells me I should get them. She says that since I like to snowboard this cross country thing would give me a skiing type activity I could do right at home.

So to keep the peace, I get them.

Later, in one of those used sporting goods places, I capture a pair of shoes and a set of poles to go with them. Now I have everything I need to go cross country skiing for under 20 bucks.

Everything but snow, of course. Apparently El Ni-o has taken care of that.

Around Christmas, we were visiting with my cross country skiing neighbor.

My wife mentioned that I had purchased cross country skis.

The neighbor looked at me, surprised, and asked, "Remember what you said to me about cross county skiing?"

Funny how those little quips come back to haunt you, isn't it?

Normally, our ski trips involve an hour and a half drive.

But because of poor snow conditions at some of the southern Michigan ski areas, we ended up four hours from home at a place near Cadillac.

And right alongside this ski place is the Manistee National Forest, which has several miles of cross-country ski trails.

On the first day, we skied and snowboarded on the hills.

The second day would be my first cross country skiing excursion.

I was, well, less than excited about the prospect.

I wanted to hit the hills again, really. The speed. The carving. The jumping. The adrenaline.

This cross country thing completely lacked challenge. It was lame.

It was about 50 yards after stepping into the skis and heading into the Manistee National Forest that I encountered my first cross country skiing challenge.

How to stay on my feet.

Those skis are pretty narrow. They kept wanting to roll over on their sides.

I would fall.

Then I would get up.

One ski or the other would roll over on its side again.

I would fall.

Then I would get up.

The rest of the family didn't appear to be having as much trouble. My wife was doing fine. The kids, while being rookies, took to the sport right away. My son was gliding gracefully within minutes. My daughter, although a bit more reserved, was doing well.

I, on the other hand, must have looked like a sow on ice, at least initially.

Finally, I got to the point where I could glide, one foot after another.

About that time we reached a trail marker and had to decide which way to go. The trails, just as in hiking, are marked as to degree of difficulty.

I didn't fully understand how the difficulty ratings worked.

It didn't take long for me to figure out that as difficulty increased, so did the number and severity of hills on the trail.

Gliding gracefully down a hill on cross country skis is a skill I had not even considered, let alone mastered.

Falling down at these new, increased speeds was an even more exhilarating experience than falling down on flat land.

The most common phrase uttered on New Year's Day in the Manistee National Forest was, "Are you all right, dad?"

Aside from being gravitationally challenged, I had a wonderful time. The scenery was beautiful. The solitude was calming.

And I left there with a new appreciation for the skill required to properly operate a pair of cross country skis.

I woke Friday to find muscles I didn't know existed. Not to mention the bruises.

Now I am on a mission. I will learn this cross country thing. I will glide gracefully. I will stay on my feet.

And to all those who have already mastered the challenge of cross country skiing, my humblest apologies.

My cross country skiing paradigm has forever shifted. [[In-content Ad]]