Sunday skiing

Yesterday my husband and I decided to get out for the day and go skiing. This year we have our own equipment and season ski passes. So we got all the gear together, put gas in the car, stopped for coffee and hit the road for the BIG Rockies. As we put on boots, helmets, and all our gear (once we arrived) I was reminded how much gearing up to ski reminds me of wrestling a calf (yes, I have wrestled a calf . . . long ago in the many rodeos my brothers and I were a part of). Then we clomped to the gondola and took the ride up the mountain. COLD. The gondola drops you off at base camp. From there several open four-person lifts branch further up the mountain. COLDER. It was a bit windy yesterday which makes for frozen toes and fingers. Though I have to say that my hands were warmer because of the mittens, with fleece mitten liners, with hand warmers inside. Can't say the same for my toes. Anyway, we skied. After the first couple of runs I felt a little better about it all. I would like to be one of those skiers who blows down the mountain . . . but I am not. I do pretty well. I don't fall and I don't look like a beginner. I am a decent intermediate. Actually, I like skiing with my daughter because we ski at about the same level. (I shall digress here for fun.) But I don't ski with my daughter too often. The last time was when we all went to Switzerland before the older kids were married. Said daughter and I were on a lift which stopped for a few minutes in completely exposed frigid terrain. She turns to me and says "just think mom, we cold be vacationing in the Cayman Islands right now." My sentiments exactly at that point in time! Ever since then we both remember that moment in time. It has come to be a descriptive phrase between the two of us. Code for how cold it is . . . rather like measuring temperatures in Fahrenheit, Celsius, or vacations spots where you would rather be. Makes sense to me. Hey, women understand these things, especially mothers and daughters. We were once on a chartered sailing vacation in the Grenadines when my daughter and I were soooooo seasick. I (regretfully now) turned to her and said "childbirth is worse." Bad move on my part. I didn't scare her enough to keep her from having children but let's just say she will never opt for natural childbirth.  It's alright. I taught her early on that there is a very important phrase for every woman delivering a baby, "epidural, now!" 

That vacation is now referred to between my daughter and I as the "vacation from hell." The vacation when she and I were so desperate to feel clean that when we anchored near an island I went straight to some posh hotel and offered to pay $50 for a shower. The clerk looked at me like I was riffraff and turned my daughter and I away. Heartless soul. Thankfully we haven't had to pull out that measurement to describe anything else . . . not yet. Though my daughter does remind me that the food on that trip was amazing . . . a measure rarely equaled in dining experiences. You know, I'm thinking I could do a whole blog post on these types of measurements. Hmm.

Back to yesterday. We had a pretty good ski day. We kept it fairly short since it was cold. The tired feeling once we were back home and warm was really nice. Today my muscles are sore. Also a good feeling. I used my body in a way that it needs to be used once in a while (rather than just using it to walk to Starbucks). I imagine I will be wrestling the calf again soon.