Yesterday was a very long day. Headed out at a little after 7 for Appalachian Ski Mountain, near Boone, to refamiliarize my legs with what it was like to be on skis in advance of my trip to Steamboat Springs in a couple of weeks with Yale friends. About three hours out, then "four hours" of skiing -- including a lesson as well as a hearty lunch and lots of standing in line -- then three hours back. Then we went to a dinner party.
As I was getting my rented boots there at the lodge the guy says to me "it's just like riding a bike" after I had mentioned that I hadn't skied in 30 years plus. As the lesson got started, once we finally got on our skis, my initial impression is that the guy was right. I could still snowplow and turn just fine on the really gentle slopes there are the bottom and the baby hill for absolute beginners.
However, I should have extended his metaphor a little further. It was just like a riding a bike -- for someone who had only ever ridden a bike twice before, and many moons ago under an entirely different bodily regime. So when I went up on the bigger green hill with a feeling of "I got this." I came down, gathered some speed, feeling good, but then I started snowplowing to slow myself down and could totally feel in my knees and hips, especially the hips. The old body didn't have the muscle power to slow myself down properly. So I did the only rational thing and flung myself on the snow, which did slow me down.
A guy at the dinner party back in Chapel Hill said that part of the problem was the shitty quality of the snow and that things would be better out in Colorado. I'm sure that's it.
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