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My skiing adventure
So I went skiing last night for the first time in 15 years.
I went with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
pandaulf to Wachusett -- which coincidentally is also where I went the only previous time, my freshman year of college. It may have been dumb to try and do this on a weeknight, but I figured the odds were good I couldn't handle more than 2 hours or so on my first time out anyway, and indeed it seems to have been just as well that we didn't get there until 8pm (they close at 10).
The thing I remembered vividly from my one previous outing is that I had no problem going, but could never get the hang of stopping, other than by falling. I can now report that this is basically still true. What I don't remember is feeling quite so physically terrified in the process. Maybe I was, though. I also don't remember having quite so much difficulty hauling myself up off the ground each time, but perhaps I was not so proud then and just took my skis off every single time, which makes it way easier.
pandaulf is a true friend, and coached me very patiently, through my utterly pathetic initial steps and eventually down three runs on the easiest slope (Ralph's Run). I will tell you all right now that if you are in need of amateur ski coaching, you will do well to pick someone who is not only an experienced skier but (a) a trusted friend for 14 years, (b) an educational psychologist by trade, and (c) the parent of a 3-year-old. :-) A reassuring combination of traits if there ever was one. By the third run, I managed to get off the ski lift without falling immediately on my ass, which we took as a sign of progress.
The first run, I zoomed down rather too far too fast for comfort, and made spectacular tumbles at least four times (not counting the fall getting off the lift). Getting back on my feet seemed relatively easy while on the hill, but by the time I fell at the bottom, I could hardly get up to save my life, and just about ran out of cope right there. What I did was bench myself for a a short break, though, and send Jon to get in a run on his own, which felt like a win all around and a good way to offset being a total drag.
On the second and third runs, I tried really hard to master "slow and controlled", of which I was feeling a distinct lack. This resulted mostly in excruciatingly leisurely passes down the mountain -- punctuated by bursts of speeding along out of control, all of which ended in (you guessed it) spectacular tumbles. No injuries, though, thank God. Today, my left flank is a bit bruised where I took the majority of the falls, but otherwise I'm only a little stiff. Considering that I felt like I'd been beaten with a stick as we limped out to the parking lot, that's not bad at all.
So -- was it fun? I don't know: Yes, and... on the other hand, it was a little too demoralizing all around to be properly termed "fun".
But, I'm really glad I went. Partly because it was good to hang with Jon. And partly because it was an incredibly good idea to have a dry run (ha ha, there wasn't anything dry about it, I was damp to the skin when I got home, note to self: obtain proper bib ski pants) before going to Smuggler's Notch with the MIT GSC two weeks from Friday. :-} And partly because I feel like this is a skill I need to spend some time on before I can decide if I enjoy it.
And, y'know -- hey! I did it!
I went with
pandaulf to Wachusett -- which coincidentally is also where I went the only previous time, my freshman year of college. It may have been dumb to try and do this on a weeknight, but I figured the odds were good I couldn't handle more than 2 hours or so on my first time out anyway, and indeed it seems to have been just as well that we didn't get there until 8pm (they close at 10).The thing I remembered vividly from my one previous outing is that I had no problem going, but could never get the hang of stopping, other than by falling. I can now report that this is basically still true. What I don't remember is feeling quite so physically terrified in the process. Maybe I was, though. I also don't remember having quite so much difficulty hauling myself up off the ground each time, but perhaps I was not so proud then and just took my skis off every single time, which makes it way easier.
pandaulf is a true friend, and coached me very patiently, through my utterly pathetic initial steps and eventually down three runs on the easiest slope (Ralph's Run). I will tell you all right now that if you are in need of amateur ski coaching, you will do well to pick someone who is not only an experienced skier but (a) a trusted friend for 14 years, (b) an educational psychologist by trade, and (c) the parent of a 3-year-old. :-) A reassuring combination of traits if there ever was one. By the third run, I managed to get off the ski lift without falling immediately on my ass, which we took as a sign of progress. The first run, I zoomed down rather too far too fast for comfort, and made spectacular tumbles at least four times (not counting the fall getting off the lift). Getting back on my feet seemed relatively easy while on the hill, but by the time I fell at the bottom, I could hardly get up to save my life, and just about ran out of cope right there. What I did was bench myself for a a short break, though, and send Jon to get in a run on his own, which felt like a win all around and a good way to offset being a total drag.
On the second and third runs, I tried really hard to master "slow and controlled", of which I was feeling a distinct lack. This resulted mostly in excruciatingly leisurely passes down the mountain -- punctuated by bursts of speeding along out of control, all of which ended in (you guessed it) spectacular tumbles. No injuries, though, thank God. Today, my left flank is a bit bruised where I took the majority of the falls, but otherwise I'm only a little stiff. Considering that I felt like I'd been beaten with a stick as we limped out to the parking lot, that's not bad at all.
So -- was it fun? I don't know: Yes, and... on the other hand, it was a little too demoralizing all around to be properly termed "fun".
But, I'm really glad I went. Partly because it was good to hang with Jon. And partly because it was an incredibly good idea to have a dry run (ha ha, there wasn't anything dry about it, I was damp to the skin when I got home, note to self: obtain proper bib ski pants) before going to Smuggler's Notch with the MIT GSC two weeks from Friday. :-} And partly because I feel like this is a skill I need to spend some time on before I can decide if I enjoy it.
And, y'know -- hey! I did it!