…or, its not just like riding a bike!

I went x-c skiing yesterday…and it sucked! I realize a lot of folks are thinking, “Well – duh! Of course it sucked!” For many, their entire experience of x-c skiing is as a bad idea they somehow got talked into that involved lots of flailing and falling and going nowhere rather slowly.  The thing is, I grew up x-c skiing and for many, many years it was my “thing” – it was my passion. In my hometown in northern Wisconsin, x-c skiing was the equivalent of trail running here in Flagstaff. And just like the annual migration of Flagstaff runners to the Imogene Pass Run, thousands of people from up nort’ traveled to test themselves in the American Birkebeiner and various other ski races. I looked forward to the long, long Wisconsin winters and loved skiing.  

Since moving to Flagstaff in 2001, x-c skiing has become less of a “thing”. For many years we lived east of town and I didn’t feel like driving all the way out to the Nordic Center. Over the years we’ve had some sporadic snow years. Too often my free time didn’t coincide with good snow, etc., etc., etc. Bottom line is that in Flagstaff, there are more opportunities for outdoor activity than time in which to do them all. I think I skied once or twice in our first winter here. Since then, my faithful gear has been in storage, waiting for me to notice it. 

So in a recent fit of nostalgia for the “good old days” I bought some new boots, and some slightly newer, used skate skis and headed out to the Nordic center. Apparently x-c skiing is NOT just like riding a bike. As I clipped into the skis I imagined myself gliding effortlessly along the trails, muscles rippling under colorful lycra.  The reality was not quite what I imagined. The skis didn’t stay underneath my body the way they were supposed to. (note to self – probably just need better gear).  Almost immediately my shin muscles started cramping from my awkward skiing motions. Any muscles present were not rippling. Quivering would be more accurate. And not under colorful lycra, but under an insulating layer of flesh. In spite of being in pretty good running shape, my heart was attempting to jack hammer an escape path through my chest. My arms felt like Bobby Hill “The kids at school all call me T-Rex cuz’ my arms won’t support my body weight.“

 I hadn’t bothered to wax the newer skis.  “It will be fine” I thought. Rookie mistake. It wasn’t. I ended up having to skate down some of the hills. This was NOT the Jesse Diggans, Olympic finish I had envisioned. As I struggled along, I had lots of time for negative thoughts. How did I ever think this was fun? How sad is this? I thought I was in shape. I used to ski the 55k Birkie, now I’m gassed after a couple of miles! Why did I waste money on new gear? This is embarrassing! I’m glad no one is around to see me and offer to help me find my walker, or my way back to the nursing home. I spent $10 on this stupid pass – how long do I have to do this to justify that expense?

Then it happened. It wasn’t quite a ray of sunshine from heaven or angels singing a chorus, but it happened. I hit a stretch of better snow.  My legs stopped cramping. The jack hammer in my chest slowed down ever so slightly. And I felt it. Arms and legs started working in a slightly more coordinated fashion. Skate, pole, glide. There it is! Downhill, tuck, step around a sharp turn – nailed it!  And then came a slight uphill and the moment was gone! But I had felt it. Somewhere inside that softer, older body there still lurked a skier. And in that  moment, I fell in love with skiing again. 

So today, I’ll dig out my old ski wax and give the newer skis some love. Maye I’ll check with Google to see if wax technology has changed in the last 20 years. Next time I go to the gym, maybe I’ll pay just a little attention to my T-Rex arms. Who knows, maybe there’s still another Birkie in this body.   But first, baby steps…let’s see about skiing for a whole hour, then we can talk – and dream.