Try, try again.
I told J there was no way I would ski down that slope where I so spectacularly somersaulted last Saturday, getting covered in snow from top to toe. But I did want to go skiing. So we headed for a flat area where I thought I could ski round and round, perfecting my, well, standing on two feet and propelling myself forward with the ski poles. Living on the edge. That's me.
But once we got there, we saw a very appealing slope that ended in an open field. Perfect to practice on, in other words. I could fall all I wanted without any risk of close encounters with trees and such. Try one failed. The tracks were broken and I lost my balance, rolling around in the snow. I was becoming an expert at rolling around in the snow at this point. But then, try two went well. Really well. As I felt the wind screaming in my ears, I let gravity do its part. I focused on keeping my shoulders relaxed, rested my elbows on my knees with my ski poles behind me and, before I knew it, I was on flat ground. To prove that it wasn't a fluke, I did it once more. Success.
Then we were off into the woods. It went better and better, and even though it wasn't perfect, I found a good rhythm. I lost my balance now and then, but it was going much, much better than the first time. And then, we were suddenly at the slope where I'd fallen the first time, the slope that almost scared me off skiing for good. It didn't look as scary any more. I glided down it smoothly, feeling as if I was going at 100 km/h but probably only going at 20. I whooped and threw my arms in the air when I reached the bottom.
I think that running has given me guts that I didn't use to have. The attitude that I can do it if I hang on and keep trying. Just one more gift among the many others that running has given me.
I told J there was no way I would ski down that slope where I so spectacularly somersaulted last Saturday, getting covered in snow from top to toe. But I did want to go skiing. So we headed for a flat area where I thought I could ski round and round, perfecting my, well, standing on two feet and propelling myself forward with the ski poles. Living on the edge. That's me.
But once we got there, we saw a very appealing slope that ended in an open field. Perfect to practice on, in other words. I could fall all I wanted without any risk of close encounters with trees and such. Try one failed. The tracks were broken and I lost my balance, rolling around in the snow. I was becoming an expert at rolling around in the snow at this point. But then, try two went well. Really well. As I felt the wind screaming in my ears, I let gravity do its part. I focused on keeping my shoulders relaxed, rested my elbows on my knees with my ski poles behind me and, before I knew it, I was on flat ground. To prove that it wasn't a fluke, I did it once more. Success.
Then we were off into the woods. It went better and better, and even though it wasn't perfect, I found a good rhythm. I lost my balance now and then, but it was going much, much better than the first time. And then, we were suddenly at the slope where I'd fallen the first time, the slope that almost scared me off skiing for good. It didn't look as scary any more. I glided down it smoothly, feeling as if I was going at 100 km/h but probably only going at 20. I whooped and threw my arms in the air when I reached the bottom.
I think that running has given me guts that I didn't use to have. The attitude that I can do it if I hang on and keep trying. Just one more gift among the many others that running has given me.
Vilken härlig känsla och vad skönt att snuvan nästan är borta. Jag känner mig mycket bättre idag. Stela höftböjare och stumma lår, men annars är jag till 80% tillbaka.
ReplyDeleteInomhuslöpning för att jag ska få till ett bra intervallpass. Går inte att trycka ifrån i snön. Ska bli spännande. ;)