Tortured on the Mountain

Fresh powder this morning made everyone happy, but me.

I'm super unconfident skiing in powder, made worse by my ski class a few years ago

where I supposedly learned to ski powder. I tumbled multiple times and then lost my ski.

What I learned about powder skiing is I hate it.

Lizzie opted for a reading morning while Emi went to childcare 

and the rest of us went to catch first tracks (much to my dismay).

I began with a positive attitude, encouraging the boys to take the challenging way down

and I would take the blues/groomed blacks and we'd meet up at the bottom of the lift.

What ended up happening is I was so nervous in the powder, 

I pizza-d along a relatively flat traverse to the hill, totally terrified of losing control.

I had to stop every few feet to rest because my quads were killing me even though yesterday was

an easy day -- kinda like when you lift weights really slowly, it still works those muscles.

Either that, or I'm in worse shape than I thought.

My feet were screaming, strangled inside a vice. I mean boot.

I valiantly carried on, until I found myself at a lift, but not the right one.

I called Dan and left him a voicemail to continue on without me.

I'd made a wrong turn, I hate powder, my feet and quads were being tortured

and I was heading home. And I felt great about my decision.

Unfortunately I had to essentially cross-country ski across those dang cat tracks.

What was so fun yesterday, were sticky and slow today, but the only place on the whole mountain that was groomed. Making my slow way home was nothing short of a critical life test and I had to use all my strategies to make it, self-talking the whole way:

"This afternoon I'll be sitting on the couch and what's so hard now will be a distant memory."

"Don't think of this as a slow slog, but as cross-country skiing which is great exercise."

"Look around at the pine trees and snow and be grateful for how beautiful it is. I'm lucky to be here."

"Just keep pushing through the pain in my feet and my quads. It won't last forever."

"I'm not really going in slow motion. I am making progress. It just feels like slow motion."

All the while I was also problem solving why my feet hurt so bad, like they had in my old boots, when my current boots felt great the last two seasons. I determined it must be an insole issue.

And eventually I did make it home. I stopped at one point to text Dan, and good thing I did because he hadn't got my voicemail and who knew how long he was waiting at the bottom of the lift for me.

(Fortunately he sent the boys for a lap so they weren't all waiting for me as I would have been no where to be found.)

I crawled through the condo door (practically), broke free of my boots and collapsed on the couch

next to Lizzie (ever so sorry to interrupt her solitary time, but I was desperate).

I attempted to read but feel fast asleep.

After lunch I considered going back out but only for half a second.

Especially since Michael and Marty both were calling it a day.

Chris and Dan would have a lot more fun skiing without me 

and I would have a lot more fun not skiing at all.

But I did go to the boot store and buy new insoles.

Also made it for 3:00 cookies

Imagine several chefs bringing trays of cookies to crowds of people,

freely giving away two, if asked, and happily handing out more to the kids who came back over and over.

After Emi was in bed, we played Marty's new Christmas game, Acquire,

a vintage real estate board game that was really fun.

Dan got a notice from Delta that Michael's flight might be delayed and suddenly the quest was on to consider different flights due to an impending storm in the east, and would Michael be able to find an Uber if he left tonight (instead of on the shuttle early tomorrow as planned)?

A driver agreed to the 2-3 hour drive and soon he was packed, we said our goodbyes

(we have LOVED spending so much time with him the last few weeks),

and he was out the door. Thirty minutes later he reported they were stuck on the road because of an accident. By the time they were moving, he wouldn't make it in time for his midnight flight.

He swapped to a morning flight and had his Uber driver take him to Marty and Lizzie's instead where he spent the night.

Good thing, he changed his flight because a storm did hit the east and his original flight was delayed and then got diverted to Washington D.C.!

What a day!