SherpaKroto
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As I was driving home yesterday, all I could think about was: I skied today! I wasn't fast, I wasn't strong, I wasn't pretty (well, nothing has changed there), but I was out there.
MtnPa and MtnMa had told me over New Year's Day that Gris and his family would be up at the MtnHouse over St Paddy's. Being my usual shy self
, I immediately invited myself, hoping to get out and play in the snow. As time drew near, I was having second thoughts about getting any powder under my feet. I had been up north a few times this winter, and circumstances never quite worked out to get me out. Either I'd be alone, the weather wouldn't cooperate, or I was just too damn tired. It was getting late in the season, and it looked like my 50th year on skis would come and go with little fanfare. Gris wouldn't hear of it, and he goaded me on with every insult that he could come up with (he has a few and that is a good thing). I was a wimp, I was old, I was fat, I had no guts, I was a quitter. I knew he was right. I was hearing the Doctors too well, and listening to their advice. No more long hiking or skiing days (btw, their idea of long is 3-4 hours!). I'd have to comfort myself with remembering what was, and be satisfied with that. Walks with the dog were proving them right, so I was reading the cards that were being dealt.
Mad Townie had come for the weekend and Big Loop (Mike Holt) came by on Saturday so we could all get some much needed practice to finalize sets for Bearly Live '07. Townie had originally planned to finish his 48/67 on Moosilauke on Saturday, but circumstances of his own modified those plans. Instead, he finished the 48 on Sunday, and will finish his 67 on Redington sometime very soon. I think 2 celebrations are always better than one anyway . Congrats Townie! They were all talking about their plans for Sunday (Saturday was a bust due to weather, unless you count drinking). I kept wanting to get out, and with Gris' "help", I was leaning that way. I figured I'd see how I felt in the morning (yes, the morning after St Paddy's day).
Mike woke up bright eyed and bushy tailed while I was more of the bushy eyed variety. His enthusiam and Gris' never-ending slams were the perfect combination to get me moving. There was no way Gris was letting me get off easily. I was skiing: no doubt about it. Mike headed off to Bretton Woods and Gris and I slowly got our gear ready. MtnMa came by and I found out that she and Gris had planned to go to a different smaller area in Franconia. This was closer to home for me, and I had gotten one of those MCP (Marriage Continuation Program) calls the night before. I figured that though it would be more of an untracked backcountry ski experience, it was the better choice. A quick call to Mike to let him know the change of plans and we quickly got our gear together. MtnMa, true to her moniker, handed us individually labeled bottles of water, and off we went. How sweet is that?
It was a quick 10 minutes drive to the trails. As I was slapping the boards on, I felt waves of emotion pass over me: elation, trepidation, outright fear, then back to elation. I started thinking first about how far I'd had to come to get back here. I always knew that I had to ski again and it didn't matter what I skied. It was part of me. When you allow part of you to die, there is that much less left living. When we were all ready, MtnMa headed up, then Gris, and finally me. Just the first few kicks down the trail, feeling the trees close in around me, was like entering something fresh and new, feeling the last chapter of my life melt away. The snow hung on the trees, misting down with every slight breeze. I could feel the subtle swish of the skis under my feet. I felt my pulse quicken, and my lungs scream (well it can't all be good! ). I felt truly alive again. Within minutes, I had fallen behind, something that never sat well with me (I've always been slow, but it always bothered me). Today, I just relaxed and finally realized it's not a competition - it's just living in the now. I was getting the "time out of mind" that HarryK always speaks about. I felt at peace. I was skiing, I was smiling, my lungs were screaming, my legs were aching: I was alive. Gris an MtnMa stopped to let me catch up, and I slowly reached them and found that if I took a break avery 5-10 minutes, I started feeling OK, not great, but doable. This might work out after all. Hey - no need to sell my skis! I'm ready to tackle a 4K! Only 8 left! Then I started plodding along again, and reality set in: a nice clear reality of snowcovered trees, small woodland footprints, still, cool air, and peace. The lungs and legs were again screaming, but it felt more like "it's about time!" than ever before. I realized that I don't "need" a 4K. I do need this! By now I was again a bit behind the others, and grooving on a nice shuffle play of some Grateful Dead tunes. It's hard to smile when you can't breathe, but I found it's certainly not impossible.
We managed to do about 3 miles in a bit over 2 hours through some beautiful slowly rolling terrain. MtnMa had picked the perfect place for us to go. Having friends like her, Gris, Big Loop, MtnPa and everyone else who finally managed to get me back out is what life is all about. I was happier than I'd been in a long time. I swear my tires were 6 feet above the pavement the whole way home. With friends like all of you encouraging me, I have been able to get back on skis on less than a year. One day less to be exact. As I was driving home I thought "I skied today, and it was very, very good".
(PS. Thanks for indulging me on this post. Delete it if you think it off-topic)
MtnPa and MtnMa had told me over New Year's Day that Gris and his family would be up at the MtnHouse over St Paddy's. Being my usual shy self
, I immediately invited myself, hoping to get out and play in the snow. As time drew near, I was having second thoughts about getting any powder under my feet. I had been up north a few times this winter, and circumstances never quite worked out to get me out. Either I'd be alone, the weather wouldn't cooperate, or I was just too damn tired. It was getting late in the season, and it looked like my 50th year on skis would come and go with little fanfare. Gris wouldn't hear of it, and he goaded me on with every insult that he could come up with (he has a few and that is a good thing). I was a wimp, I was old, I was fat, I had no guts, I was a quitter. I knew he was right. I was hearing the Doctors too well, and listening to their advice. No more long hiking or skiing days (btw, their idea of long is 3-4 hours!). I'd have to comfort myself with remembering what was, and be satisfied with that. Walks with the dog were proving them right, so I was reading the cards that were being dealt.Mad Townie had come for the weekend and Big Loop (Mike Holt) came by on Saturday so we could all get some much needed practice to finalize sets for Bearly Live '07. Townie had originally planned to finish his 48/67 on Moosilauke on Saturday, but circumstances of his own modified those plans. Instead, he finished the 48 on Sunday, and will finish his 67 on Redington sometime very soon. I think 2 celebrations are always better than one anyway
. Congrats Townie! They were all talking about their plans for Sunday (Saturday was a bust due to weather, unless you count drinking). I kept wanting to get out, and with Gris' "help", I was leaning that way. I figured I'd see how I felt in the morning (yes, the morning after St Paddy's day).Mike woke up bright eyed and bushy tailed while I was more of the bushy eyed variety. His enthusiam and Gris' never-ending slams were the perfect combination to get me moving. There was no way Gris was letting me get off easily. I was skiing: no doubt about it. Mike headed off to Bretton Woods and Gris and I slowly got our gear ready. MtnMa came by and I found out that she and Gris had planned to go to a different smaller area in Franconia. This was closer to home for me, and I had gotten one of those MCP (Marriage Continuation Program) calls the night before. I figured that though it would be more of an untracked backcountry ski experience, it was the better choice. A quick call to Mike to let him know the change of plans and we quickly got our gear together. MtnMa, true to her moniker, handed us individually labeled bottles of water, and off we went. How sweet is that?
It was a quick 10 minutes drive to the trails. As I was slapping the boards on, I felt waves of emotion pass over me: elation, trepidation, outright fear, then back to elation. I started thinking first about how far I'd had to come to get back here. I always knew that I had to ski again and it didn't matter what I skied. It was part of me. When you allow part of you to die, there is that much less left living. When we were all ready, MtnMa headed up, then Gris, and finally me. Just the first few kicks down the trail, feeling the trees close in around me, was like entering something fresh and new, feeling the last chapter of my life melt away. The snow hung on the trees, misting down with every slight breeze. I could feel the subtle swish of the skis under my feet. I felt my pulse quicken, and my lungs scream (well it can't all be good!
). I felt truly alive again. Within minutes, I had fallen behind, something that never sat well with me (I've always been slow, but it always bothered me). Today, I just relaxed and finally realized it's not a competition - it's just living in the now. I was getting the "time out of mind" that HarryK always speaks about. I felt at peace. I was skiing, I was smiling, my lungs were screaming, my legs were aching: I was alive. Gris an MtnMa stopped to let me catch up, and I slowly reached them and found that if I took a break avery 5-10 minutes, I started feeling OK, not great, but doable. This might work out after all. Hey - no need to sell my skis! I'm ready to tackle a 4K! Only 8 left! Then I started plodding along again, and reality set in: a nice clear reality of snowcovered trees, small woodland footprints, still, cool air, and peace. The lungs and legs were again screaming, but it felt more like "it's about time!" than ever before. I realized that I don't "need" a 4K. I do need this! By now I was again a bit behind the others, and grooving on a nice shuffle play of some Grateful Dead tunes. It's hard to smile when you can't breathe, but I found it's certainly not impossible.We managed to do about 3 miles in a bit over 2 hours through some beautiful slowly rolling terrain. MtnMa had picked the perfect place for us to go. Having friends like her, Gris, Big Loop, MtnPa and everyone else who finally managed to get me back out is what life is all about. I was happier than I'd been in a long time. I swear my tires were 6 feet above the pavement the whole way home. With friends like all of you encouraging me, I have been able to get back on skis on less than a year. One day less to be exact. As I was driving home I thought "I skied today, and it was very, very good".
(PS. Thanks for indulging me on this post. Delete it if you think it off-topic)
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