I went skiing this past weekend, and I kind of have some FEELINGS about it, and now I’m going to write about them, so this is might be a sort of cheesy post. You have been warned.
My dad has been a skier his whole life, and he’s really good. Like, he’s not an Olympic skier, but he can handle any terrain, he’s fast and he just really loves the sport. It’s pretty much his only hobby, but it’s one he’s really invested in. He taught me and my sister to ski when we were little kids. I think I started learning when I was four or five, and I got to be pretty good. Not as good as my dad, who grew up in Quebec City, and went skiing literally every weekend of every winter throughout his childhood and adolescence, but pretty good. I never liked taking as many risks as my father and sister, who tend to speed through glades and moguls, but I was still capable of making my way down any double black diamond trail I encountered.
And then I finished high school, and I just stopped. I didn’t go on my family’s annual ski trip after I turned 16 for a number of reasons, and I don’t really have any friends who are particularly into skiing, so I haven’t so much as put on a pair of skis since I was 16 – literally a decade ago. This past fall, my dad kind of joked that I should go on a trip with him, and he was pretty shocked when I told him I thought it sounded like a good idea.
So, I ended up taking a couple days off work last week and we drove down to Sunday River in Maine for two days of skiing. Honestly, I had no idea if I would even be able to do it. I wasn’t sure if that whole riding a bike metaphor applied to skis. It turns out it totally does! As soon as I snapped my boots into my bindings, the whole thing immediately came back to me. It felt more natural than almost anything else in my life, to be honest. Definitely more natural than waking up before 10 a.m. or making small talk with strangers about the weather or cooking a well-balanced meal. The whole time I was gliding down the slopes, I just felt like, this is what I was meant to do.
I’m not saying I plan to quit my job and pursue a full-time career as a professional skier. I’m still just medium OK – though I did manage to not fall once all weekend and I (mostly) kept up with my dad! I’m just saying that I’m not going to go another 10 years without skiing again. If anything, I’d like to try a more challenging hill, because by the end of the two days I was getting a little bored of Sunday River’s super groomed trails. My dad and I might try to go somewhere else later in the winter/early spring this year. We’ll see. I’m just glad I finally got back out there, and it turned out to be a reasonably painless experience. Well, OK, my legs hurt like a bitch the day after, but now I know it’s nothing I can’t handle.
I should also mention that this weekend took place over the Groundhog Day weekend, a very significant time of year for my family, since my dad always insisted upon celebrating the holiday by eating KFC and drawing pictures of groundhogs. Yep, just some regular holiday traditions. I admit that we didn’t eat any fried chicken this year on Feb. 2, but we did end the day by watching the movie Groundhog Day. Somehow my dad had never seen it before! We definitely had ourselves a very merry Groundhog Day.