Født med ski på beina?

A norwegian expression meaning "born with skies on your feet".
Supposedly something all norwegians are.
Maybe except for me.
We had this terrible trip on new years eve when the plan was to go to this cabin in the mountain belonging to this tourist organisation we are in (DNT), but the route to the cabin was more than I could handle on skies.
So we ended up driving the tree hours back home and spent the night drinking wine and watching TV. Despite it all we had a really nice day driving through the most amazing nature.
I have always hated skiing. I have never been any good at it, always ending up falling of the ski-elevator. Once I was on a ski-trip by myself (yes, I have tried!), and found out even kids were faster and felt they had to pass me, I was so slow.
Tried snowbording, you say? Don't even go there. For the record; yes, I have and I sucked !
Shalg bought himself new cross-country skies before christmas, so he has been talking about it every weekend.
Last weekend he had decided the time had come. He was going to this place called Gautefall, about 2 hours drive and I felt I had to go with him. Neither of us had been there before, so I couldn't let him go by himself.
On the way we drove by this famous norwegian folk/country-singer called Sputnik. He is quit the character, selling his own brand of mens panties.
We knew he lived in the village we passed and his home was not hard to spot.

We arrived at the ski-resort and eventually also found the cross-country-track.
I was shaky and cold, but it was a really easy track and I kept standing!
Even went down a few small hills without falling.
But Shalg never knows my limits and forced me up this steep hill where even he fell over.
The way down that hill was even worse and my mood was no longer good. I was so scared and angry I fell over just standing still. So I took off my skies and slid down the hill half on my bum.
Luckily this was not the end of the trip, if it had been I probably would never look on a pair of skies again.
Safely down the hill I put my skies back on and successfully stood through a small down-hill with a turn! (going down hill and turning is a recipe for disaster)
I was real proud of myself!
On the last bit of the track we passed some teenage girls that just couldn't stay on their feet even on flat ground. Getting closer I heard them speak and thought to myself: Thank God I'm not danish...