Remember that skier who tumbles down in the agony of defeat in the opening of Wide World of Sports? I know how he feels. Ok, maybe not exactly. But I know how it feels the day after a two hour private ski lesson. Sore. Very. Definitely too sore to hit the slopes again today, after hitting them over and over again with my rear-end yesterday.
Now that there is finally some snow and enough cold for the snow makers to blow their stinging little pellets at skiers-by, we headed up the mountain to Chamrousse yesterday. Kaitlyn was sick Friday night so we postponed her ski lesson. Bill skied by himself for a couple of hours in the morning while Kaitlyn continued her recovery. Then he came back and got us and drove me up there for my lesson. I’d postponed it twice due to a lack of snow. I was really looking forward to it. I want to be able to ski well enough for Bill not to get bored on the easy runs with me, where mostly when we did go he spent his time stopping and waiting for me.
I found my instructor among a sea of red snow suits outside the ski school’s cabin/office. Frederique was young and scruffy with his dreadlocks pulled back in a bandana thingie. I figured he looked at me and thought oh, no. I got my lift ticket (honestly, for the price of the lesson you’d think they could give you the lift ticket) and off we went. Since I’ve been skiing before, can snow plow and get on and off the lift, I was spared the experience of beginning in the Piou Piou Club. Frederique was immensely patient and helpful. I admit, there was one exercise he tried drawing in the snow to explain and I just never quite caught on. He’d watch me then say that was a nice turn, but not what you were supposed to do. I also found myself trying to explain to him that I understood what he was telling me to do with my left leg, but that my leg was simply refusing to go along with the program. And I need to work on getting up. Because I had little problem with the falling down part. Once, I swear I fell straight back. That was getting off the lift. My real challenge was getting over any icy spots. One time I fell and twisted my knee or something in the process because it hurt like crazy while I was lying there struggling to get back up, like a dying fly trying to flip itself off its back. Once Frederique hoisted me up, the knee felt fine so we went on. Today, I can barely get up and down stairs with the knee. It stinks. In the middle of the night I got up to get a drink and nearly decided to go back to sleep on the couch rather than climb the stairs back up to bed. So when the alarm went off this morning I told Bill: take Kaitlyn to the Piou Piou Club and ski without me today.
Still, I think I learned a lot. Frederique claimed he could see improvement by our third, and final, run.
I can guarantee if nothing else, my outfit was a big improvement over those Barney pants I wore last time. I got pants (black), a new jacket, new boots, new skis. I look the part. At least when I’m not flailing on the ground like a dying fly….
You ain’t gettin’ no sympathy from Raleighwood! I’d endure a twisted knee (or two – hell, I twist my half-century old knees getting out of bed!) to be able to “drive up the mountain” and go skiing. Still, 56 degrees on a January 27th isn’t all that bad. Here’s hoping global warming backs off for a month or so you can learn to ski on something other than ice. The “snowplow” doesn’t work that well on ice!
P.S. Where’s Kaitlyn’s ski pictures?
Just remember, keep your tips up when getting of the lift. Bill NEVER mentioned that to me the first time I went skiing with him. Nothing like a teeth full of snow! AND yes, it’s important to look good and have snazy looking ski gear–it makes it easier for your friends to ID the body. 🙂