Oh. God. Pain. I'm trying to type this column, and my wrists are not cooperating.

But keep reading anyway, because this does turn out to be a good experience.

Last week I got on a board for the first time ever. My friends all gave me the same advice: The first three days are awful. So I signed up for a lesson at Solitude, hoping to ease the agony.

Agony aside, now is a good time to try something new. Lift tickets are discounted because the best runs aren't open yet -- a nonfactor when you can't get 5 feet down the bunny hill without wiping out. And if you've already learned a winter sport, you won't want to blow a February powder day doing something you suck at.

So I'm glad I started boarding now. Despite the pain.

Back to that.

Learning to snowboard is way different than learning to ski. On skis you may look like an asshole at first, but you can feel yourself moving forward, and you improve gradually.

Snowboarding is more binary: You fall or you do not fall.

Except at first. At first, you only fall.

Colby Howard, my teacher, had me start by walking a few yards up a hill and riding back to where it was level -- good, because you can't lose control there.

The same cannot be said for the lift exit. As I lurched forward at the top, Colby grabbed my coat and led me through a turn. God knows how many small children I might have killed otherwise.

Steering was a problem. I'd put my weight in all the wrong places, zip forward, bail into the snow and then flop around like a maimed albatross for like five minutes trying to get back up.

But eventually I completed a turn. Then I accidentally did two turns in the process of losing control, so yay! Colby could see the mechanics of my mistakes, and by the end I understood -- at least in theory -- how it was supposed to work.

It wasn't until after my lesson that I met the devil called Catching An Edge.

Boom.

You'll be moving forward, leaning on your toes or your heels depending on which way you want to turn. Then your board tips a little the wrong way, and THWUNK. Your tailbone hits the ground with the force of a meteor. You sit in your little crater hoping you can still walk -- which you can, just more like a nanogenarian now.

That happened about 12 times.

But after feeling the consequences of a lazy move, I got careful FAST. At one point I made it through five turns without falling.

I definitely want to try snowboarding again before I forget everything. I want to get it down. When I do, I'll be so proud of myself.

In the meantime, I'll regard all competent snowboarders with a measure of awe now that I know what they've been through.

Erin Alberty has more Utah adventures and musings on her blog, poorpenmanship.com.