Hello, reader! I missed you! There is so much I want to tell you and I am behind on writing.
You might remember in the early days of this blog when I learned to ride a bike. It was a tough and often frustrating thing to take on as an adult. Two things made it easier. The first was formal lessons. Learning from friends is humbling and embarrassing even with the kindest of teachers. Taking a lesson and being with other adults at my skill level and a teacher accustomed to adult learners was clutch and a confidence builder.
The second thing that helped was practice. This is not groundbreaking.
Last week I went skiing in Steamboat, Colorado. I have skied before but not for years and never exceptionally. So, learning from my bike riding experience, I signed for a lesson. My instructor was fabulous. If you’re ever heading to Colorado and want a fantastic ski school, Steamboat has one of the best there is and I’ll happily connect you with my instructor. I was grouped with two other women who were at my level. We warmed up on a few green trails and then we tried the blues. I hadn’t skied enough to have built up muscle memory but I remembered the basics (as in how to stop, how to put on skis, that boots hurt).
More than anything, I loved the cadence of a ski day. You wake up early – though not as early as a workday – put on your ski pants and head out. A 1pm lunch breaks up the day then it’s only 2 more hours of skiing before you call it quits. By the end of each day I was exhausted and completely tuckered out after dinner.
My biggest fear while skiing had nothing to do with skiing. I fear the cat tracks. Cat tracks are relatively flat narrow paths that skiers use to move around the mountain. They are often marked as green trails (aka the easiest level). But they often are found on the edges of mountains, meaning one foul push and you could fly off the side of the precipice. This freaked me out. Ski mountains are full of speed demon children unaware of their surroundings. I don’t say that with malice. But one of them could easily knock into me and send me flying off the mountain face.
It’s no different than how I feel standing on the crowded 1 train platform during rush hour. One wrong move too close to the edge and you’d end up on the tracks. I feared this way more than the steepness of any particular trail. Eventually, I got used to it but I was surprised how few people it seemed to bother.
Have you ever gone skiing? If so, have you been skiing continuously since childhood?
Have you ever mastered anything as an adult?
Tell me your feelings on cat tracks!