Learning how to snowboard was not unlike the first time I tried in-line skates. The lack of control, the gripping fear, the overall paralysis of function I felt during my first few hours on each were exactly the same. So was the fact that I spent most of my time on my duff, which became sore for days on end.

On the snow I felt lame. Helpless. Ready to give up. Each time I fell, my bottomless well of fear deepened. As every cell in my body screamed out in self-preservation to stop, life's equivalent of rigor mortis seized my muscles, only making things worse. Instead of making nice smooth movements like my instructor, I lurched. Rather than carve beautifully sinuous arcs that dazzled in the sunlight, I slid out of control and created mini-avalanches.

On skates I felt equally worthless. Crashing was my only means of stopping.Traversing down hills, I braced myself for every approaching parked car. I learned it was better to bail early on in an out of control situation, before building up too much speed. High school days of skateboarding had taught me that high speed wrecks carried too great a risk of dermal damage.

There's no arguing that pavement is much less forgiving of mistakes than snow, but at least it's more predictable. When an unseen bump or a hole sends me sailing on a groomed track, the landing can pack just as hard a punch as a spill on the pavement. My battle injuries from my first day out on the slopes ranged from a pulled shoulder to a bruised tailbone, which in my opinion is a lot worse than a little road rash.

In soft powdery stuff, a bad spill is usually no worse than a pie in the face. But if the board controls you, instead of vice-versa, then the forest can be a minefield. I've seen knees that attest to the hard knocks dealt by off-trail snowboarding. It's not the powder that bangs you up, but the trees.

In both snowboarding and skating, I learned by trial and error. Too persistent to let a few bumps and scrapes deter me, my first act of self-preservation was never to go faster than the speed at which I felt comfortable falling. This meant avoiding a runaway situation by keeping my speed in check. I found that I could do this by using my edges.

Eureka! Learning how to slow down by manipulating my edges was the mother of all athletic discoveries, ranking up there with other all-time highlights of my sporting career like winning the national championships or skating on China's Great Wall. On the snowboard, I was in control as long as I was grabbing hold of the snowy substrate with the metal edges of my board, alternating between inside and outside. On inlines, I found that carving a turn while leaning on the inside edge of my weighted skate produced a similar result. It gained me instant purchase on the pavement.

On the other hand, gliding with little resistance, or being between edges, was terribly unsettling. It meant that if I was pointed downhill, my speed quickly increased to the point where I stiffened up from fear. The zone in between edges, whether on a snowboard or on inlines, is the trickiest and most nebulous edge to master. It is also the zone that became my friend, though, because on less steep slopes, flats, and uphills, finding the center point of my balance allowed me to relax my muscles and maximize my speed.

Finding that center zone as well as exploring the limits of my edges has taken years of adjustment and fine tuning. Now I feel as if I can go faster for longer without pooping out, apply more force to my edges with less effort, and flex fewer muscles around my ankles and shins to correct my imbalance. For me, survival is a question of equilibrium.

I'm still learning how to gain control of my edges. My balance over my left side, as well as my ability to carve turns to the left, remains problematical. It will require constant vigilance to improve in these areas.

The game isn't over yet. It's barely even halftime. Gaining a fair degree of proficiency at something is no excuse to be complacent, because there are always people coming out of the woodwork who can do it as good or better than me, and there is always an unseen obstacle waiting to bring me down level with the ground.

I have learned to cope, not fully, but enough to pick myself up from countless spills and persevere. I've kept at it to the point where my falls are now few and far between, a small consolation for the scars my body bear.

Confronting my fears and doing something about them, whether on a snowboard, skateboard, or on inlines, has been one of the greatest spiritual odysseys of my life. I have gained a good measure of confidence from subduing some of my athletic trepidations, which has carried over into other facets of life as well. I can honestly say that because of snowboarding and skating I have become a more confident public speaker, a more self-assured writer, and a more adventurous traveler.

So go ahead, hit the slopes! Enroll in the school of hard knocks! I hope you will all be rewarded with the same newfound confidence and great good fortune as my own.

Eddy Matzger just returned refreshed from a one month skate trip through Japan and Indonesia. In Japan, Eddy conducted his first international skate workshop, while in Indonesia, he toured the remote island of Sumbawa on his TWINCAM bearings and Roces LAX skates while wearing a Transpack, and passed out stickers and PowerBar balloons the whole way. Matzger hit it big with the natives; he stayed with a family in the tiny town of Lunyuk and was taken to see giant sea turtles on distant shores.