1.29.24 // Learning to Ski
I'm learning to ski...for the 4th time.
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My first snowy turns were at age 4 - small skis, no poles. I was so small that you could see my dad's hands holding me up in my ski pass photo. Ski lessons were all about pizza and french fries and my motivation was all about Boston Creme Donuts and Hot Chocolate in the lodge.
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As an adult, I'm still reminded of those first snowy turns. I was frostbit on my right cheek from frigid temperatures during a ski lesson where I refused to pull my gaiter up and still today, the pigment is off when I tan.
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I didn't touch skis again until February of 2016. I was 25 years old, tagging along as a +1 on a business school ski trip from Philly to Breckinridge. I took one group lesson and spent my turns on the greens. I battled with gear that didn't fit - white North Face pants that were too big, and a Patagonia coat that was too long. Admittedly, most of my excitement was for what came after skiing- the apres beers and stories. The skiing came second (or maybe third, fourth, or fifth).
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I was enticed back to the slopes in late November 2018. I was splitting time between Bishop and San Francisco. From Bishop, Mammoth Mountain is only a 45-minute ride up the 395.
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Thanks to the people in my life, I had an incredible, patient teacher, Cheri who took me down the greens and let me borrow her fantastic powder blue one-piece ski suit that she had been wearing for decades. Not only did she share her ski suit, but she let me borrow every piece of gear- boots, and skis too. She coached me gently and eventually, I made it down a couple of blues. But as life would have it, my time between Bishop and SF ended and so did my ski season.
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That is until last month, December 2023. After a cool 5-year hiatus, I got back on skis, equipped with boots fit for me and gear that would keep me warm and flexible. I pivoted my motivation towards finding fun in winter sports (although I still love a good lodge hot chocolate).
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With another incredibly patient teacher, a lust for figuring out the uphill glide, and a yearning to find the dance of the downhill... I'm learning to ski again for my fourth time.