About a month ago, a friend sent an email blast asking who'd like to attend a women's ski clinic. I'd been wanting to get back into it, so I piled on.
We met at the ski resort, and along with ten other women, we signed waivers, rented equipment, posed for a picture in front of the lodge, and away we went!
I was put in the group with experience, but not recent. We headed to the bunny hill and took turns attacking the gentle slope. Well, "attacking" may not be the best description. Maybe "sneaking up on" would be more accurate. I started down the hill, my brain shrieking, "NO-O-O-O-O-O-O!!!" all the way down! My skis wouldn't behave. My body was all over the place. I was stiff with fear. Just a complete hot mess.
After three times down the hill, I still felt out of control. Every time we stopped on the slope, I kept sliding into the woman next to me - how embarrassing! I was sure I'd NEVER be able to ski competently again. Our instructor made suggestions, all things I knew, but just couldn't quite execute. No. Muscle. Memory.
Then suddenly, something clicked.
We moved to the next slope. A little longer. With a chairlift. My turns improved. I moved my weight forward on the skis. I attacked the hill. Yes, attacked.
By the time I was finished, I felt ready to ski on my own. I got to try the latest performance skis, rediscovered a favorite physical activity, and even got a report card - well, okay, a "progress report." I'm well on the way to recovering my old skills.
Colorado, here I come! Well, maybe Michigan first, but...
I can't wait!!!