When I was a kid, I used to love to ski. I felt happy, joyous and free in the sun and cold, and the rush I got made me believe that God was breathing life into my soul.
I’ve been trying to grasp onto that feeling every run I go on here. It seems just out of my reach as self-obsession creeps to the surface and my focus isn’t on feeling anything other than calf pain.
Anyway, I start getting into a little groove, relaxing a little more and looking around. The guys seem so young, and the ladies are soooo fashionable. Snow bunnies abound. I was sort of hoping I would get inspired by being around these women who are so unbelievably put together. Instead, I find myself just wanting to go back to my room for a cookie. Whatever. I push those feelings aside and go for another run.
I should note here, that a typical run for me is an intermediate run. I’m not a beginner, but I am out of shape and I don’t want to work too hard. You should also know that I do not fall. I’m not bragging, but I have been doing this for awhile. If I fall, I’ve had a bad day. I am also so out of shape, that I find I have to stop every couple hundred yards to catch my breath and rest my legs.
It was on one of these rest stops that it happened. I rested, gasping for breath, not able to soak in the nature around me, but rather just focused on my legs to make sure I hadn’t pulled a muscle. All was good, and I pushed off to continue on. I don’t know what happened next, but I can tell you as I pushed off, my arms flailed, my skis crossed, and down I went. My shoulder hit first, then a faceplant, then a roll. I am sure I howled, because when I stopped, a voice called over to me, “Are you alright?”
As I looked up, a beautiful blond woman made her way over to me. Embarrassed, I assured her I was fine, and started to get up. Here comes the really bad. I couldn’t get up. I tried every trick I knew. I pole planted, I faced my skis up the hill, I flipped over to my ‘good’ side, all the while being encouraged by the beauty. I was just too heavy and weak at the same time. Finally, she offered me her pole, and humiliated, I had her pull me up. I mumbled a thank you, and she gave me a few tips to get down the mountain. I hurried down to a stunned btm husband who asked if I was okay.
So now I am down the hill and waiting in the chair lift line with btm. The line had thinned out and there were only a few single people looking to go up. One of them was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. A super model. I just knew she was riding up with me. Are you ready for the Ugly? As I sat quietly next to her, nursing my hurt feelings from the fall, I glanced sideways at supermodel. With great happiness, I noticed she had forgotten to have her lip waxed before her vacation. I called it a day. It just doesn’t get better than that.