Day 37: I Ride

I'm snowed in in Tahoe today. My flight to Vegas was cancelled and there weren't even any taxis willing to take me to the airport, anyway. We've gotten 36" of snow in the last 24 hours. It's a skier's paradise! Problem is, I'm not much of a skier.

I grew up dabbling in skiing but never quite getting a handle. When I was a kid, I went on bus trips with friends from school and took very few lessons. I'd just wing it. I remember falling a lot and not knowing how to get up - and just lying there peacefully in thick powder until ski patrol would come to save me. That quiet time looking up at the sky was my happy time.

I wasn't just a bad skier, I was dangerous. My friends and I would dare each other to go down steep hills at top speed. I once caused my friend to crash into a tree and break her glasses. Another time, I slammed into a barrier chain and flipped around it a few times to my friends' amusement. How I never broke a bone is a mystery! Another time I completely lost a pair of rental skis; I took a tumble and they unhinged and slipped right over the side of the mountain, never to be seen again; I had to walk down in my boots. In college, I was in the back seat of a bad car wreck on a ski trip; we all ended up in the emergency room and my shoulder was dislocated so badly that it still hurts me sometimes. I never dressed properly, either. I'd wear jeans and a cowboy bandanna around my face - and Vaurnet sunglasses. I constantly fell in puddles and was a frozen Popsicles by noon.

By the time I was in my 20s I was starting to realize I had a choice - I didn't have to ski if I didn't want to - and if I were going to ski, I could take lessons and get better. Since my best friends at the time had a ski house in Colorado, and there didn't seem to be any way to escape the sport, I decided to opt for the latter. I'd go to Colorado and focus on the parts of the trip I really loved - cooking for a crowd, movies, games, and general togetherness - and then I'd go off on my own and take lessons.

I got better but, because my friends were all skiing double black diamond slopes, I had to stretch way past my comfort zone, and really, past my interest, to ski with them. I loved the feeling of being on top of the mountain, the view, the swoosh-swoosh of the snow, and the exhilaration of having accomplished a challenging hill; but the crowds on the mountain and the general pressure to "ski the trees" and "take moguls" kind of ruined it for me. One guy used to pick on me in particular. We're both very competitive and he couldn't cope with my comparative weakness - and lack of interest in jousting with him. On my last trip to Colorado, I came down with pneumonia. The competitive guy was really pissed about this and made everyone uncomfortable as he attacked me endlessly for staying in with my 103 degree fever. I vowed never to go to Colorado with that group again and, in fact, I never skied again.

So, when this trip for work came up, I half-heartedly packed my ski clothes from 2002, and my ski jacket from 1997. (The jacket I used in 2002 was a boarding jacket and hasn't got any bells or whistles, and isn't even warm. Function over fashion, I decided. I didn't expect to have to use anything, anyway.)

But surprise, surprise. I'm snowed in today and so here was the perfect opportunity to test the (frozen) waters and get a cross-training workout in. I wouldn't have to ski at anyone else's pace, or worry about crowds. I didn't need a lesson. I know how to ski and, unlike tennis where there are about 15 things you need to remember within a 1 second time frame, in skiing you pretty much just need to remember: lean forward, feet together, look at the road, shift your weight, and yield to oncoming traffic!

I started with a beginner hill which was basically a 30 minute cross country experience because the snow was so fresh and thick, I couldn't get any speed! I arrived back at the base's gondola sweating and exhausted. The lift team all smiled and remembered me since there were only about 300 people on the mountain at all today! This is a mountain that supports up to 30,000 skiers on a typical peak season Saturday...but it's a Monday, early in the season, and none of the locals could drive through to get here! They suggested if I thought I could handle it, I should just go straight to the summit and ski all the way down. I figured I had nothing to lose, so I went for it.

Long, long story short, it was amazing - the best skiing of my life! I got an excellent workout in, didn't fall once, was able to challenge myself, saw the most beautiful sights, and at the top of the mountain met a bunch of great people and even did some business. What a day...

One observation I've made about the gap time that passed between my last and today's ski experience is how much skiing has actually changed in just 7 years. I was one of maybe 10 skiers on the hill - the rest were all boarders. In chatting with my new friends at the bar at the summit, they told me that for a while there was a rift between "skiers" and "boarders" - old school and new at odds for power. A peacemaker had come along though and encouraged the two factions to drop their politics - and the labels "skiing" and "boarding" - in favor of the unifying term, "riding." So I don't actually ski now, I ride. They also don't call hats "hats" any more. A hat is a "beanie."

It's hard to explain the strange feeling I have stepping back into a world I haven't touched in 7 years. It's like I've been in a coma. The kids on the slopes are the same age I was when I left, but now I'm older. I don't have this experience as I train for the Marathon because I've never been a runner before, and I've never wanted to be. If there were trends in running in the 80s and 90s, I'm unaware of them. All my running gear is new. I don't feel any pressure to be better than where I'm at. Right now, I am the best I've ever been! ...and the best part is, the only person I'm in competition with, is myself.