After a five year hiatus, I recently returned to the ski slopes despite some ambivalent feelings about the whole process of skiing. So here are five things that I hate (or fear) about skiing and five things that I love:
Skiings Fears:1.
Being shown-up by five year olds. There is something frustrating about standing in trepidation at the top of an intermediate level slope (that you got to by accident because you thought you were going up the GREEN chair lift) and watching a pack of kindergartners hop off the chair lift and then hurtle themselves down the (seemingly) 90 degree slope, skis pointing straight downhill. Their lack of fear is amazing and actually ends up being (somewhat) inspiring as I slowly navigate down the hill, making 187 REALLY wide, slow turns, snow plowing down the mountain with aching knees.
2.
Looking like a giant panda. I am not a fan of ski clothes. I am certainly not in need of extra padding that snow pants and jackets add. I struggle with finding the right gear that will be functional and flattering. In reviewing photos of me I see quite a resemblance between myself and a giant panda.
3.
Uncomfortable boots. Why do ski boots always have to be excruciatingly painful? They compress my calves in a vise-like grip, which after a few hours causes my toes to fall asleep and by the end of the day I cannot feel anything below my ankle except some shooting darts of pain. They are heavy and inflexible and impossible to walk in - especially when attempting to get hot chocolate or soda from the lodge and then navigate up and down stairs. The resort staff probably fix their cameras on the stairs so they can laugh at all the skiers in their clunky boot trying to carry liquid items or food trays. I would almost switch to snowboarding just to avoid the ski boots (almost....).
4.
The chair lift. The anxiety of maneuvering myself on skis to get on and off the lift literally keeps me awake the night before the first day of skiing. There are so many things that can go wrong. To get ON the chair lift I must get the timing just right to get in position before the chair swings around and knocks me on my #$%. I have to work well with my fellow rider so that we do not get our skis intertwined or knock each other over as we wait for the chair to swing around and hit us on the #$%. Then there are a few blissful moments of peace as the chair ascends up the slope. However I can't relax for long as the anxiety of getting OFF the lift starts to take over (especially the first time on a lift). I worry if I will be able to stand up at the right time or if I will hesitate a moment too long be left dangling off the chair and then fall several feet on hard snow and break my arm. I worry that if I do stand up at the right time, I will immediately lose my balance, knock over my partner and tumble down in a heap only to be run over by the next people getting off the lift. I worry that someone in front of me will have fallen down and I will be the one who mows over them because I can't control my direction when getting off the lift. Lest you think I am over-reacting, sadly I have experienced each of these situations (without actually breaking any bones or hurting any other skiers).
1.
Losing control (i.e., falling). I rarely fall when skiing. This is certainly not because I am a good skier. It is primarily because I am so afraid of what would happen if I couldn't stop that I am the most cautious skier on the bunny slopes (think turtle on skis). I will put my legs through intense pain until they are shaking with the pressure to slow myself down in an ungainly snow plow. I will make hundreds of really wide turns, rather than get too much speed and risk losing control. However there have been a few times when I have gained confidence on the most basic of beginner hills that I have pointed my skis downhill and let go. I do not think I have experienced such a thrilling feeling of freedom as when I have let go and am (almost) gliding down the snowy slope. It is scary and joyous at the same time. Usually after a few minutes of this, I will start to lose my balance or see a potential hazard ahead or start to worry about my ability to stop....and I will put on the brakes and bring it back to turtle speed. However those few minutes of gliding freedom are enough to get me to face my chair lift fears and do another run.
Skiing Joys:1. I am
awed by the pristine, almost primeval beauty of snow covered mountains that stretch along the horizon for miles. It is so serene that it is feel like God hit the "pause" button.
2. I am
exhilarated by the chill Sierra wind on my face as I glide down the mountain (actually I do very little "gliding" as noted above but when I do it is exhilarating).
3. I like the
single-minded focus that I must have to get down each run. There is no room for distracted thoughts about parenting mistakes or teenage pregnancies or whether I made a error in the last email marketing campaign I sent for work.
4. I find a lot of
satisfaction in the fact that I can continually repeat a run until I am pleased with the "outcome". If I didn't like the way I came down - too timid, not relaxed, poor form, etc... - I can immediately go right back up that same slope and attempt to "fix" whatever didn't work the first time.
5. Not letting my fears stop me, being able to glide just a little bit, getting more smooth and confident with each run leaves me with a huge
sense of accomplishment that make it all worthwhile.
In Anne Lamott's book "Grace (Eventually)" she recounts a story of teaching a Sunday School lesson to six-year olds on the meaning of "letting go". Her illustration struck me as a powerful and convicting metaphor.
