Arm? Broken.

About two weeks ago, I broke my arm in a freak snowboarding accident.

Now, I bet you’re wondering, “Freak? How was it a freak accident?” Well, my intrepid friends, it was a freak accident because I didn’t break it from the fall, but actually from my snowboard itself.

Picture this: I’m in the park at Mount St. Louis Moonstone, cruisin’ through. I stop to let my uncle and friend catch up, then I continue. I go down the hill a little bit further, than decide I’ll hit the 35-foot jump. I do it and execute a beautiful ham-sandwich. “Frig it,” I think, and go right onto the 40-foot, which is placed immediately after the 35. I hit it, fly into the air, and land it, only to hit a rut. I spin off balance, and take a tumble, only for my faithful snowboard to snap up and hit my forearm.

Now, that said, I was going wayyyyy to fast. I practically sailed off into the sky hitting the 40.

To be completely honest, I view it as an inconvenience. It hinders me, but it’s really not all that bad, and I can manage perfectly fine.

So there’s that.

In other news, this blog will once again be active, and I’m aiming to post at least once a week. The next post will likely be either Monday (Family Day), or Tuesday.


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