Skiing is Harder Than Blogging

Of this I bear my testimony. I suspected that years and years ago when I had cross-country skiing PE class at school in Russia. I wholeheartedly hated that arrangement. Not that I am not a sporty type, seems like all my childhood I was either running, skating, or swimming. It's the technical difficulties that caused me so much grief. The part of getting my boot into the ski fastener the correct way became the biggest challenge of my preteen life. Because in the old days skis looked like this:

Exactly! Antique!!!

And about 100 yards into my cross country training I was sure to discover that one of my skis was missing. Turning 180 degrees and going back against the flow of classmates in search for my lost ski was a dreadful and embarassing thing. I resented winter for having to deal with that stupid sport, where your ability to actually run on skis was interfered with my inability to get pokes on the fastener into the wholes in my boots, which was not accompanied by any particular 'click' sounds.

Now, living in this day and age, right in the Alps, seeing everybody and their brother so delighted about skiing made me realize that there is this void in my life that needs to be filled with winter sports activities, no matter how dreadful they may seem. I only have two weeks before ski season is over! Two weeks to use my chance to ski in the Alps before we move this summer! Two weeks before I feel like a complete failure for not doing what people travel here for! It was now guilt and pressure that made me walk to the ski rental place and rent my first ever mountain skis and boots.

I must say, the service was awesome especially since they had to deal with a clueless bran-new skier wannabe. They took my measurements, picked big plastic things called boots, strapped them on my feet, adjusted the skis for my boot-size, waxed the skis, and chose the right size ski poles. Putting these skis on was a piece of cake which instantly made me feel much better about the whole skiing experience. With a nice loud 'click' I was in and they were part of my body. Granted my feet felt like they were in a cast, and my heels were inconviniently stuck to the skis, but I was ready to give this sport a try.

We left the babies with Brittany Bless, my awesome helper/baby-sitter, and headed to the Hausberg lodge and resort that same afternoon. Kids were having their Wonderful Wednesday ski training up on the mountain. Scott and I stayed low at the foot of the mountain on a bunny hill, where preschoolers were learning their pizza stops. And that's exactly what I needed to learn on my very first day.

I look confident so far.

Using tow-rope to climb up.

Here's the moment when I came up with the post title - skiing is much harder than blogging, or jogging, or anything else as far as I'm concerned. I felt so awkward, people we turning heads on my ungraceful landings, staying as far away as possible from me. I don't blame them, I felt like a menace to the bunny hill.

I crushed so many times I saw stars falling out of my eyes, eventually followed by tears. After 2 hours of literal ups and downs I ran out of perseverance and was glad to head to the car, luckily in one piece but badly bruised.

    

My favorite ski instructor who stuck around despite many embarassing episodes, encouraging me and wiping my tears all along. Thank you, my love, for teaching me.

The best part is that it's not even the end of the story. I'll be back with more.