I'm in forest hills in Boston, and the park has been transformed into a snowy nighttime x games course. I fly through it and take a bad trajectory towards a jump, but save it with a choice backside 360. I'm shocked at my newfound ability to snowboard, since I only went once at the age of 11 and was awful.

I suddenly find it difficult to focus on snowboarding while also trying to eat the Italian panini that's in my hand, so I pull over and quickly try to finish the sandwich. Groups of fellow snowsport enthusiasts start to gather on the edges of the course, all finishing their sandwiches in unison, lit up by the cozy golden light of lamps that line the park.

I've taken my boot out of the strap on the snowboard, and in typical dream fashion the strap turns into a vague plastic mass and I'm unable to lock back in.