After the Blizzard of 2013 last week, we decided to bite the bullet and buy some snow gear that wasn’t a shovel. I’m not real big on cold and wet, but I live in New England. I’d might as well embrace it, right? We go with Cross Country Skis, even though the closest I’ve ever come to cross country skiing is the xcountry Volvo wagon I once owned. But downhill skiing is out of the question, because I am not an adrenalin junkie. My idea of living on the edge is knitting with kittens in the room.
Ha! The tree fell down, but I am standing.
Now, let me give you some context here. In case you haven’t figured it out, I am not an athlete. Nope. Uh-huh. It’s just not happening. My husband, on the other hand, comes from a family of hockey champs, coaches, horsemen, skiers, and snowboard heroes. He’s biked across two continents, worked in Antarctica, and goes to the gym daily. And he married me— a bookish knitter. Perfect match, don’t you think?? For some reason, though, I like to believe I have some shred of potential in me, and I talk him into my various escapades. He shows remarkable patience with me, even though these adventures usually end in comedy. What I lack in skill I make up for with enthusiasm and perseverance—and an arsenal of sound effects.
So, this past snowy Saturday morning, home alone, I decide to make my first ski outing. Witness free. I don’t own ski pants, so I go with Yoga pants (No. I don’t do Yoga. I just look cute in Yoga pants.) As I stand in our field pointed towards the trails behind our home, I feel like a little kid. I’ve gone out into the snow To Play. I feel a rush of enthusiasm even though, as near as I can tell, there is neither a means to steer or brake. Nonetheless, I stagger towards the woods with an awkward determination.
All in all, I have to say, things went remarkably well that first day. My basic understanding of physics was reinforced –gravity makes you go really fast–and it is harder to get your butt up out of the snow on skis than it is to get out of bed on Monday morning. I broke trail, but not an arm or a leg, so I’m calling that a win. And since that initial outing, I’ve skied a couple more times now. Once, even, with my husband. I will say, as supportive as he tends to be, that I find it decidedly unsportsman-like for him to take pictures of me trying to disentangle myself from the trees rather than help me(damn those i-phones!) But that’s okay. I have plans for him. Next weekend, it’s speed knitting. With kittens.
Stay warm and dry and enjoy the season everyone!