Yesterday our family finally got to do some more skiing! I've been wanting to go for weeks, but for one reason or another, we couldn't get out to go. So in the morning, I hopped right out of bed and into the shower at 7:30 and got everyone else motivated. Skiing is pretty much one of the only things that is going to get me out of bed and into the shower on a cold March Sunday morning!
Since I hadn't been feeling the best Saturday, I hadn't prepped anything that day/night to go skiing the next day, like a dinner for the slowcooker, or lunches or even snacks. So all I had time for in the morning was to throw some snacks into a bag along with waters and juice. This resulted in us having to buy our lunch from the ski chalet, which I do not like to do because it is always expensive!
Of course, buying lunch out from either a fast food restaurant or a cafeteria always presents problems to anyone with dietary restrictions. So after merely three weeks of sticking to my wheat-free diet, I had to either starve or break the diet. So break the diet I did.
I ordered a pulled pork sandwich on a soft white bun, and mmmmm, was it good. All afternoon I waited to see how my body would react to the gluten and aside from a very heavy lump in my stomach for a few hours (which also could have been because it was white bread), I had no adverse side effects. Not yet, anyway. I know I need to give my body a day or so to decide if it's ok with the wheat or not.
Anyhow, I know I'm not doing this diet because I have a huge problem with wheat; rather, I'm doing it for other reasons. It's good to know though, that I can handle a bit now and then.
But that's not the end of my story!
As we were finishing the last run for the day, R and I arrived back at the chalet only to turn around and wonder where L and DH were. When they didn't catch up soon after, I surmised that L must have fallen.
And fall he did.
He arrived back at the chalet with tears and a rather misshapen looking thumb. Yikes! DH took him to the first aid station, and about 15 minutes later, came back to get R and I and inform us that we were headed for an x-ray at the hospital.
I'll spare you all the boring waiting-around-the-emerg storyline, and just say that three hours later, we went home with a little guy with a splinted thumb, though not broken. (Thank GOD!) He had pulled the ligaments in his thumb when he fell against his ski pole, and caused an injury very common with skiers called "skier's thumb". The splint is to help him from accidentally knocking his thumb back and causing pain.
So while at the hospital, we were starving of course, since we were supposed to be headed home for dinner. Again, I had to break my diet and I went down to the Tim's and grabbed a bagel for R and a muffin for myself (L wasn't allowed to have anything until the Dr. saw him).
Now that I've had these two "forbidden" items after three weeks of being so strict with myself, I feel like it's going to be so much harder to tell myself no once again. But I'm going to keep trying, if anything, merely for the fact that I've lost a few pounds and felt far less bloated than usual. I think I'm going to let myself have something with wheat once a week, on a weekend, if the occasion calls for it. It will be my treat to myself for being "good" the rest of the week.
Showing posts with label skiing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label skiing. Show all posts
Monday, March 5, 2012
Friday, January 28, 2011
I'M FREE!!!
Yesterday was the day that I've been waiting for - Cast Removal Day. I had to book the day off with all my parents, but I was still doing before and after school. Of course, it was the usual hurry up and wait at the hospital, what with waiting to register, then waiting to be called in to have the cast removed, which wasn't too long, and so on. The removal process was literally less than a minute. The guy took the saw thing, and zip - down one side, then zip- down the other side, then he used scissors to cut through the batting and snap, off it came with a shower of dead skin flakes.
Ew, yeah, I know.
Then he shooed me off to x-ray.
At first, my arm felt very naked and vulnerable. I immediately wanted to protect it, instead of revelling in the freedom. While sitting and waiting for my x-ray, I experimented gently with how far one way or another I could bend my wrist. It's not too bad, actually. I think the fact that I used my hand so much for the 6.5 weeks, plus the fact that I could and did wiggle my arm around inside the cast helped. I can bend my wrist back farther than I can forward, but even today it is more flexible and less sore than yesterday afternoon. Yesterday there were a few times that I got a sharp stabbing pain shooting down my arm when I positioned my thumb a certain way. I haven't had that today, or maybe I just haven't put my thumb in that position.
But I expected all this stuff; the dead skin, the weird feeling, the weakness/stiffness. What I didn't expect was how sensitive my skin is now where the cast covered it. It's strange. If I stroke my wrist or arm, it's so sensitive that it borders on irritating. And my palm is sensing things differently than my other palm. That's the weirdest part. I put my hand down on my bare knee, which is a tad stubbly since being shaved about a week ago. With my left hand (cast one), it felt very pokey and rough. With my right, it just felt a little stubbly, but not very. I put my left hand down on the computer desk here, and the temperature felt so cold I thought it was wet. I put my right hand down, and it just felt cool, not cold. Fascinating.
It shows as adults how desensitized our skin and expecially our hands are. I wonder how much more sensitive a newborn baby's skin feels? No wonder they cry about everything! The softest blanket to us, could feel rough and chafing to them.
Anyhow, I was happy to be finally free and able to put my winter jacket back together (I'd had to pull the liner out and use one of DH's sweatshirts because the liner's arm wouldn't fit over the cast.) I also got to finally put a glove on my left hand! After seeing the Dr., who congratulated me on healing so well (whatever, like I did that on purpose!) I was sent to a nearby building to purchase a brace, just like one you'd wear for roller blading. So I'll be wearing that for skiing, and I wore it last night to bed because I was afraid I'd wrench my wrist in my sleep or something.
Speaking of skiing, I was really hoping to go this weekend, since I can wear my coat properly, and mitts and everything. Now of course I feel like I'm coming down with a cold.
Of course.
The universe hates me.
I haven't had a cold AT ALL this winter!! Definitely not since I got the cast on. I couldn't have come down with a cold last weekend, when it was like hell had frozen over temperatures and we had nothing to do but hang out inside the house all weekend! Oh nooooo, of course not. So I am taking aconite (a homeopathic remedy), drinking green tea with ginseng, and I might even consider taking some of that nasty cold-fx that makes me feel nauseous and gives me heartburn.
DAMN!
Ew, yeah, I know.
Then he shooed me off to x-ray.
At first, my arm felt very naked and vulnerable. I immediately wanted to protect it, instead of revelling in the freedom. While sitting and waiting for my x-ray, I experimented gently with how far one way or another I could bend my wrist. It's not too bad, actually. I think the fact that I used my hand so much for the 6.5 weeks, plus the fact that I could and did wiggle my arm around inside the cast helped. I can bend my wrist back farther than I can forward, but even today it is more flexible and less sore than yesterday afternoon. Yesterday there were a few times that I got a sharp stabbing pain shooting down my arm when I positioned my thumb a certain way. I haven't had that today, or maybe I just haven't put my thumb in that position.
But I expected all this stuff; the dead skin, the weird feeling, the weakness/stiffness. What I didn't expect was how sensitive my skin is now where the cast covered it. It's strange. If I stroke my wrist or arm, it's so sensitive that it borders on irritating. And my palm is sensing things differently than my other palm. That's the weirdest part. I put my hand down on my bare knee, which is a tad stubbly since being shaved about a week ago. With my left hand (cast one), it felt very pokey and rough. With my right, it just felt a little stubbly, but not very. I put my left hand down on the computer desk here, and the temperature felt so cold I thought it was wet. I put my right hand down, and it just felt cool, not cold. Fascinating.
It shows as adults how desensitized our skin and expecially our hands are. I wonder how much more sensitive a newborn baby's skin feels? No wonder they cry about everything! The softest blanket to us, could feel rough and chafing to them.
Anyhow, I was happy to be finally free and able to put my winter jacket back together (I'd had to pull the liner out and use one of DH's sweatshirts because the liner's arm wouldn't fit over the cast.) I also got to finally put a glove on my left hand! After seeing the Dr., who congratulated me on healing so well (whatever, like I did that on purpose!) I was sent to a nearby building to purchase a brace, just like one you'd wear for roller blading. So I'll be wearing that for skiing, and I wore it last night to bed because I was afraid I'd wrench my wrist in my sleep or something.
Speaking of skiing, I was really hoping to go this weekend, since I can wear my coat properly, and mitts and everything. Now of course I feel like I'm coming down with a cold.
Of course.
The universe hates me.
I haven't had a cold AT ALL this winter!! Definitely not since I got the cast on. I couldn't have come down with a cold last weekend, when it was like hell had frozen over temperatures and we had nothing to do but hang out inside the house all weekend! Oh nooooo, of course not. So I am taking aconite (a homeopathic remedy), drinking green tea with ginseng, and I might even consider taking some of that nasty cold-fx that makes me feel nauseous and gives me heartburn.
DAMN!
Thursday, January 6, 2011
The Fracture Clinic (otherwise known as the waste of my time clinic)
****written while waiting****
Three weeks ago I had to report in at what is known as the Fracture Clinic. I like to call it the best way for a doctor to make a quick buck (or hundred). That was a huge waste of my life.
After I got patched up at the hospital for my broken arm, they handed me this card with an appointment time and Dr. written on it. I arrived at said time and place only to find out that wasn't an appointment time, it was a registration time! The appt was non-existent. You just went and sat in line, just like at the walk-in clinic.
Guess how long I waited?
Go ahead.
I'll give you a clue, it was longer than my whole effing ordeal at the hospital the first time was!
I sat there for two freaking hours to get finally called in and for the dr to tell me to come back in three weeks!
WHAT!?!
He asked me a bunch of stupid questions that I'd already answered on the admission sheet (I mean honestly, why bother having the patients write these things down if you aren't even going to read them anyway?) and even asked me what bone it was! How the hell should I know? The Dr. in the ER didn't tell me, he basically said, "yep, it's broken" and, "I'll have to cast it."
At least I got to see my x-rays, but honestly, that was only a curiosity thing and wasn't really worth the $50 I lost that day in income and parking, not to mention the risk to my life driving a half hour one-handed in a snowstorm (even the school busses were cancelled that day).
So here I am sitting in the god damn waiting area three weeks later beside some old guy that smells like he took a bath in Old Spice or some equally revolting old person cologne. (Ok, I personally find mostly ALL colognes revolting as most of them give me headaches instantly and as an aside, don't people know cologne is supposed to be personal and subtle, meant for the people who are going to be close to you, not the whole bleeping room??) I've been here a half hour already and this time I haven't even got to REGISTER yet!!
FINALLY!!
****written afterwards****
Half an hour later I was on my way up to x-ray, where I waited another hour, then back to the clinic waiting area, where I waited another hour. Lordy.
Thank God DH was home this week and he took over for me watching the kids. I'm not so lucky for the next appt., so I'll have to cancel daycare for that day.
At least this time I got to hear good news. My arm has almost completely healed to the point that the Dr. had a hard time even seeing if there was a break there or not. He said part of the problem was seeing through the cast, because they don't take that off for the x-ray.
Me: So you can take this off, right?
Doc: Ummm, no.
Damn. I tried.
Me: So, do you think I could go skiing?
Expecting an outraged Dr. response like, Are you crazy??!!
Doc: Sure.
Seriously??!! Yahhoooo!!
Doc: But if you fall hard enough, you won't hurt your wrist, you'll likely break your elbow or even more likely your fingers.
Oooookaaaaayyyyy....
I think I'll risk it anyway. I mean, you could break something any time you go skiing, whether or not you already have a broken limb. You're taking a risk everytime you go out there. Right?
Right?
Good news is that the cast will be off before Feb. Jan 25 is the original appt they gave me. I came home, informed all the parents about the time off that I would need, and then that night the office or clinic or whatever called me to tell me that the Dr. wouldn't be in that day.
Peachy.
So now I have to rearrange everyone and on top of that wait two more days for the cast to come off.
Grrrrr.
Three weeks ago I had to report in at what is known as the Fracture Clinic. I like to call it the best way for a doctor to make a quick buck (or hundred). That was a huge waste of my life.
After I got patched up at the hospital for my broken arm, they handed me this card with an appointment time and Dr. written on it. I arrived at said time and place only to find out that wasn't an appointment time, it was a registration time! The appt was non-existent. You just went and sat in line, just like at the walk-in clinic.
Guess how long I waited?
Go ahead.
I'll give you a clue, it was longer than my whole effing ordeal at the hospital the first time was!
I sat there for two freaking hours to get finally called in and for the dr to tell me to come back in three weeks!
WHAT!?!
He asked me a bunch of stupid questions that I'd already answered on the admission sheet (I mean honestly, why bother having the patients write these things down if you aren't even going to read them anyway?) and even asked me what bone it was! How the hell should I know? The Dr. in the ER didn't tell me, he basically said, "yep, it's broken" and, "I'll have to cast it."
At least I got to see my x-rays, but honestly, that was only a curiosity thing and wasn't really worth the $50 I lost that day in income and parking, not to mention the risk to my life driving a half hour one-handed in a snowstorm (even the school busses were cancelled that day).
So here I am sitting in the god damn waiting area three weeks later beside some old guy that smells like he took a bath in Old Spice or some equally revolting old person cologne. (Ok, I personally find mostly ALL colognes revolting as most of them give me headaches instantly and as an aside, don't people know cologne is supposed to be personal and subtle, meant for the people who are going to be close to you, not the whole bleeping room??) I've been here a half hour already and this time I haven't even got to REGISTER yet!!
FINALLY!!
****written afterwards****
Half an hour later I was on my way up to x-ray, where I waited another hour, then back to the clinic waiting area, where I waited another hour. Lordy.
Thank God DH was home this week and he took over for me watching the kids. I'm not so lucky for the next appt., so I'll have to cancel daycare for that day.
At least this time I got to hear good news. My arm has almost completely healed to the point that the Dr. had a hard time even seeing if there was a break there or not. He said part of the problem was seeing through the cast, because they don't take that off for the x-ray.
Me: So you can take this off, right?
Doc: Ummm, no.
Damn. I tried.
Me: So, do you think I could go skiing?
Expecting an outraged Dr. response like, Are you crazy??!!
Doc: Sure.
Seriously??!! Yahhoooo!!
Doc: But if you fall hard enough, you won't hurt your wrist, you'll likely break your elbow or even more likely your fingers.
Oooookaaaaayyyyy....
I think I'll risk it anyway. I mean, you could break something any time you go skiing, whether or not you already have a broken limb. You're taking a risk everytime you go out there. Right?
Right?
Good news is that the cast will be off before Feb. Jan 25 is the original appt they gave me. I came home, informed all the parents about the time off that I would need, and then that night the office or clinic or whatever called me to tell me that the Dr. wouldn't be in that day.
Peachy.
So now I have to rearrange everyone and on top of that wait two more days for the cast to come off.
Grrrrr.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Wrench In The Works
Sorry I haven't been blogging much at all lately, I've no excuse really. Christmas business? Yeh, I'll blame it on that...
Anyhoo, a week ago Sat I did that. We took the boys to our first recreational skating of the season, I got out on the ice, did one lap and stupidly over-estimated my ability to stop in a way-cool manner. I should have taken it easy at first, got my ice legs back. I should have just stopped in my normal snow-plow style. But I didn't.
Apparently, I thought that all the "skills" I had acquired last year would still be there and that by some magical osmotic process I had picked up perfect skating abilities through all those hours spent watching L's hockey lessons.
Instead of executing a perfect hockey stop complete with shushing sound and spraying ice/snow, I went ass over tea kettle and broke my wrist. I threw out my arm to break my fall and broke my radius as a consequence. But yeah, I need my head more than my arm so I still think it was a fair trade-off.
So after I picked my humiliated self up off the ice I hobbled my way over to the bench. I was in pain, yes, but I really didn't think it was broken because I seriously thought a broken limb would be far more painful. I mean, I've whacked my elbow and it hurt more than that, stubbed (or likely broken) my toes, even had stomach pain higher on the pain scale. The thing was though, is that it wasn't dissipating. DH got me some ice, which actually worsened the pain and that's when the nausea kicked in along with accompanying cold sweats.
Oh, God, I thought. I seriously think I'm going to puke and I have one skate on, and one untied. The washroom is down the cobble-stoned hallway (sooo not good for skate blades), and I have a heart-stopping fear of vomitting in a public place. So I laid down on the bench and thankfully the sweats went away. In retrospect, I was probably in shock and that's just what I needed.
DH then decided we should hurry off to the hospital. I was of a mind to go home first and call a sitter; after all, we've all been to emerg on a Saturday night and know how long we can be there. But miracle of miracles, there was no one sitting in there and we were actually out in two hours!
I had to call the parents of the babies I look after and cancel them for the week. There was no way I was going to be able to change diapers and dress them for a walk to the school twice a day with one hand. I could barely dress myself! As it turns out, it was a good call. I had the babies back under my care today and even with most of the soreness gone and some mobility back, it was still a challenge changing a poopy bum.
There are some good points though. Since I can't get my cast wet, I absolutely CANNOT do dishes! And I was getting some nice attention from all my boys for a few days. (That's worn off now.)
The worst part of it is, is that I was greatly looking forward to the skiing season, as you know. The boys are having lessons the four days following Boxing Day, and I had hoped to ski while they are being instructed. Now I get to sit my ass in the stupid chalet for two hours at a time and feel miserable and sorry for myself. And I'm betting they don't have any wireless access, which would at least help a little with the boredom. Boo.
Double boo.
So now I have to wait until Feb to get the cast off, and then I really have no idea how long before I can ski. I'm hoping straight away. Like, drive from the fracture clinic to the slopes.
Ha ha, just kidding.
Not really.
Anyhoo, a week ago Sat I did that. We took the boys to our first recreational skating of the season, I got out on the ice, did one lap and stupidly over-estimated my ability to stop in a way-cool manner. I should have taken it easy at first, got my ice legs back. I should have just stopped in my normal snow-plow style. But I didn't.
Apparently, I thought that all the "skills" I had acquired last year would still be there and that by some magical osmotic process I had picked up perfect skating abilities through all those hours spent watching L's hockey lessons.
Instead of executing a perfect hockey stop complete with shushing sound and spraying ice/snow, I went ass over tea kettle and broke my wrist. I threw out my arm to break my fall and broke my radius as a consequence. But yeah, I need my head more than my arm so I still think it was a fair trade-off.
So after I picked my humiliated self up off the ice I hobbled my way over to the bench. I was in pain, yes, but I really didn't think it was broken because I seriously thought a broken limb would be far more painful. I mean, I've whacked my elbow and it hurt more than that, stubbed (or likely broken) my toes, even had stomach pain higher on the pain scale. The thing was though, is that it wasn't dissipating. DH got me some ice, which actually worsened the pain and that's when the nausea kicked in along with accompanying cold sweats.
Oh, God, I thought. I seriously think I'm going to puke and I have one skate on, and one untied. The washroom is down the cobble-stoned hallway (sooo not good for skate blades), and I have a heart-stopping fear of vomitting in a public place. So I laid down on the bench and thankfully the sweats went away. In retrospect, I was probably in shock and that's just what I needed.
DH then decided we should hurry off to the hospital. I was of a mind to go home first and call a sitter; after all, we've all been to emerg on a Saturday night and know how long we can be there. But miracle of miracles, there was no one sitting in there and we were actually out in two hours!
I had to call the parents of the babies I look after and cancel them for the week. There was no way I was going to be able to change diapers and dress them for a walk to the school twice a day with one hand. I could barely dress myself! As it turns out, it was a good call. I had the babies back under my care today and even with most of the soreness gone and some mobility back, it was still a challenge changing a poopy bum.
There are some good points though. Since I can't get my cast wet, I absolutely CANNOT do dishes! And I was getting some nice attention from all my boys for a few days. (That's worn off now.)
The worst part of it is, is that I was greatly looking forward to the skiing season, as you know. The boys are having lessons the four days following Boxing Day, and I had hoped to ski while they are being instructed. Now I get to sit my ass in the stupid chalet for two hours at a time and feel miserable and sorry for myself. And I'm betting they don't have any wireless access, which would at least help a little with the boredom. Boo.
Double boo.
So now I have to wait until Feb to get the cast off, and then I really have no idea how long before I can ski. I'm hoping straight away. Like, drive from the fracture clinic to the slopes.
Ha ha, just kidding.
Not really.
Monday, November 8, 2010
WOW! Post #100!
I went to start a new post when I noticed on my dashboard it said 99 posts. So that would make this one #100, which is kinda cool. Not that that is the subject of my post. The real title is:
My Latest Obsession
I think I've found my new shopping obsession.
Skiing.
Last year, as I blogged about here, I took R skiing for the first time and he loved it. It also renewed my love of the snow sport and R begged and bugged me for the rest of the winter for A) skis of his own, and B) to take him again. I wasn't about to go out and purchase new skis for him based on a one-time thing, and we never did get out again last year.
This year, I've got my shit together and we went to not only one ski swap (where you can buy and sell used ski and snowboard equipment) but TWO! We purchased skis, boots and poles for R and I both, as well as boots for L (a friend gave us skis) as well as helmets and goggles for all three of us. The helmets and goggles are not used of course, but usually at the swaps the resort has their own shops open and apparel and stuff on sale.
I also bought the kids skiing lessons, a set of four lessons, two hours at a time, four days in row right after Xmas. During their lesson I'll do my own skiing, or maybe I'll take a lesson too, I haven't decided yet.
Can I tell you, I am soooo excited for the snow to start! And now I'm all worried too. What if the kids are sick that week? What if it's raining, and there's no snow, which is a very real possibility? I didn't think to ask at the time (DUH!)
As we were shopping for the helmets, we couldn't find one for L so headed out to a somewhat local store called Skiis and Biikes. I'd never been there before, but upon entering I felt like I had died and gone to outerwear heaven! You know how much I love to shop for outerwear (or if you don't, then click the link). There were coats and snowpants of every colour, size and pattern! There were gloves, mittens and matching hats everywhere! And then, the skis, oh the the skis and assorted paraphernalia! SO COOL! So pretty. So expensive.
After finding a helmet for L, I took the sales-guy's advice and went to look at thermal underwear. HOLY! Guess I'll be shopping elsewhere for that! Then I found a pair of really thin gloves that you wear under your normal gloves (perfect for me because my hands are ALWAYS cold!).
$35? Um, no thanks.
So if anyone feels generous and wants to give me a gift card for Xmas, you know where to go!
My Latest Obsession
I think I've found my new shopping obsession.
Skiing.
Last year, as I blogged about here, I took R skiing for the first time and he loved it. It also renewed my love of the snow sport and R begged and bugged me for the rest of the winter for A) skis of his own, and B) to take him again. I wasn't about to go out and purchase new skis for him based on a one-time thing, and we never did get out again last year.
This year, I've got my shit together and we went to not only one ski swap (where you can buy and sell used ski and snowboard equipment) but TWO! We purchased skis, boots and poles for R and I both, as well as boots for L (a friend gave us skis) as well as helmets and goggles for all three of us. The helmets and goggles are not used of course, but usually at the swaps the resort has their own shops open and apparel and stuff on sale.
I also bought the kids skiing lessons, a set of four lessons, two hours at a time, four days in row right after Xmas. During their lesson I'll do my own skiing, or maybe I'll take a lesson too, I haven't decided yet.
Can I tell you, I am soooo excited for the snow to start! And now I'm all worried too. What if the kids are sick that week? What if it's raining, and there's no snow, which is a very real possibility? I didn't think to ask at the time (DUH!)
As we were shopping for the helmets, we couldn't find one for L so headed out to a somewhat local store called Skiis and Biikes. I'd never been there before, but upon entering I felt like I had died and gone to outerwear heaven! You know how much I love to shop for outerwear (or if you don't, then click the link). There were coats and snowpants of every colour, size and pattern! There were gloves, mittens and matching hats everywhere! And then, the skis, oh the the skis and assorted paraphernalia! SO COOL! So pretty. So expensive.
After finding a helmet for L, I took the sales-guy's advice and went to look at thermal underwear. HOLY! Guess I'll be shopping elsewhere for that! Then I found a pair of really thin gloves that you wear under your normal gloves (perfect for me because my hands are ALWAYS cold!).
$35? Um, no thanks.
So if anyone feels generous and wants to give me a gift card for Xmas, you know where to go!
Monday, February 8, 2010
Under The Category Of "I'm Gettin' Too Old For This Sh*t"
I thought up the title for this blog while having a small cardiac infarction riding the chairlift Sat morning.
Ok, not really (the C.I.) but I felt like I was going to have one. And many thoughts were running through my mind at the time like, "Just what the HELL was I thinking??" and, "Will they let me ride this back to the bottom?"
You see, I decided that after a mere 10 or so years, that I should try skiing again. On top of that, I decided to take R with me. Now, I'm not so deluded as to think that I should be the one to teach him (my kids don't do well when I'm trying to teach them something, it seems; we ALL end up very frustrated! However, I did teach them both to ride a bike, so it's not all bad!), he had a "discover skiing" package lesson for 75 mins which seemed to do the trick just fine.
So while R was out discovering the joys of strapping fiberglass planks to your feet and trying to manoevour safely down a snow-and-ice-covered hill, I decided to brush up on my stellar skiing skills on my own.
Hence, me, riding up the chairlift and trying not to alarm the other passengers with my heavy sweating and rapid breathing.
At first, I thought maybe my fear was stemming from the fact that I wasn't sure how I was going to get back down the damn hill if my body failed to remember how to keep me from tumbling head over heels like the idiot that I am. But on reflection, I was pretty confident that I could at least master the easy hill and that I would surely remember how to snowplow if all else failed. So then why oh why was I so nervous? Glancing down I suddenly realized, that's right! I'm scared of heights! How could I have forgotten my phobia that seems to have developed and worsened over the past decade?
Shit!
Shit!
Ok, deep, calm breaths and hold on tight.
Oh, yeah, and don't look down!
After abouta year five minutes we came to the top, I took a deep breath of relief and lo and behold I eased myself off the chair with grace! It seems I did remember some things after all! On to the next stage...
I managed to get down the first small hill leading to the top of thecliff face the "easy" hill they referred to as "Family". Taking another deep breath I psyched myself up.
Ok, I can do this. Just go slow. Lots of snowplowing.
And don't die.
Tears pricked my eyes; either from the cold wind, or the fact that I suddenly realized that I was going to be leaving my poor child all alone when I crashed and lost consciousness. Why oh why didn't I rent the stupid helmet?
Three year olds whooshed past me, giggling in delight and probably muttering under their breath about the old person with apparent dementia standing at the top of the hill looking lost.
Who, me?
Ok, I can do this. Just go slow. Blah, blah, blah. If they can do it, so can I.
About a third of the way down the hill, I was doing fine. I probably looked completely uncoordinated and ungainly, but I was still alive! However, my knees!
Oh, my knees how they ached! They were burning!
I don't remember this! This is a new kind of pain enjoyed while skiing. Maybe I am getting too old for this!
I was never so relieved to reach the bottom before. But like the glutton for punishment that I am, I got right back into the chairlift lineup. It was starting to all come back to me now. The thrill of conquering the hill while remaining conscious, the adrenaline rush, if you will.
By the third run I was right back to where I was (skill-wise) when I last skiied, a lifetime ago. And R loved his lesson, loved the whole experience. He has caught the skiing bug, as I did so many years ago, and wants to go again.
I think I've started an expensive obsession!
And guess what? I'm not even hurting that much, so I guess, after all, I'm NOT too old for this shit!!
Ok, not really (the C.I.) but I felt like I was going to have one. And many thoughts were running through my mind at the time like, "Just what the HELL was I thinking??" and, "Will they let me ride this back to the bottom?"
You see, I decided that after a mere 10 or so years, that I should try skiing again. On top of that, I decided to take R with me. Now, I'm not so deluded as to think that I should be the one to teach him (my kids don't do well when I'm trying to teach them something, it seems; we ALL end up very frustrated! However, I did teach them both to ride a bike, so it's not all bad!), he had a "discover skiing" package lesson for 75 mins which seemed to do the trick just fine.
So while R was out discovering the joys of strapping fiberglass planks to your feet and trying to manoevour safely down a snow-and-ice-covered hill, I decided to brush up on my stellar skiing skills on my own.
Hence, me, riding up the chairlift and trying not to alarm the other passengers with my heavy sweating and rapid breathing.
At first, I thought maybe my fear was stemming from the fact that I wasn't sure how I was going to get back down the damn hill if my body failed to remember how to keep me from tumbling head over heels like the idiot that I am. But on reflection, I was pretty confident that I could at least master the easy hill and that I would surely remember how to snowplow if all else failed. So then why oh why was I so nervous? Glancing down I suddenly realized, that's right! I'm scared of heights! How could I have forgotten my phobia that seems to have developed and worsened over the past decade?
Shit!
Shit!
Ok, deep, calm breaths and hold on tight.
Oh, yeah, and don't look down!
After about
I managed to get down the first small hill leading to the top of the
Ok, I can do this. Just go slow. Lots of snowplowing.
And don't die.
Tears pricked my eyes; either from the cold wind, or the fact that I suddenly realized that I was going to be leaving my poor child all alone when I crashed and lost consciousness. Why oh why didn't I rent the stupid helmet?
Three year olds whooshed past me, giggling in delight and probably muttering under their breath about the old person with apparent dementia standing at the top of the hill looking lost.
Who, me?
Ok, I can do this. Just go slow. Blah, blah, blah. If they can do it, so can I.
About a third of the way down the hill, I was doing fine. I probably looked completely uncoordinated and ungainly, but I was still alive! However, my knees!
Oh, my knees how they ached! They were burning!
I don't remember this! This is a new kind of pain enjoyed while skiing. Maybe I am getting too old for this!
I was never so relieved to reach the bottom before. But like the glutton for punishment that I am, I got right back into the chairlift lineup. It was starting to all come back to me now. The thrill of conquering the hill while remaining conscious, the adrenaline rush, if you will.
By the third run I was right back to where I was (skill-wise) when I last skiied, a lifetime ago. And R loved his lesson, loved the whole experience. He has caught the skiing bug, as I did so many years ago, and wants to go again.
I think I've started an expensive obsession!
And guess what? I'm not even hurting that much, so I guess, after all, I'm NOT too old for this shit!!
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