Skiing Lessons
by Mary Fahey
For my fortieth birthday, a friend, who belonged to the
Garden City Ski Club, invited me to go on a bus trip to Gore Mountain, north of
New York City.
“But I don’t
know how to ski,” I said.
“That’s okay.
An instructor can teach you,” she answered.
“But I don’t
have any ski equipment.”
“You can rent
them there.”
Since she
dismissed all my objections, I had no alternative, so I agreed to go with her.
Skiing hooked me with
my first experience. I loved the challenge, the clear cold air and the
camaraderie of the other skiers. I joined the club and never missed an
opportunity to sign up for a ski weekend. I practiced on the bunny slope for
the rest of the winter.
Lesson # 1 -Never allow
fear to sway you against an opportunity to try something new, even if you’re
terrible at it. You may find something that you can enjoy for many years.
By
the second year, I progressed to the chair lift but, on one trip, I skied from
the chair to the slope and froze. Multiple moguls (hillocks of ice) filled the
trail. I didn’t see any way I could maneuver around them. I envisioned myself
skiing into one and going airborne to a disastrous fall. I contemplated taking off my skis and walking
down the slope. Others dissuaded me….too dangerous. Someone sent the instructor
up to help me.
“I’ll talk
you down,” he said.
He skied to an area
about twenty feet away.
“Can you ski
to me?” he said.
I shook my head. “No.”
He side stepped up the
slope to a distance of ten feet from me.
“How about now?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
I skied to him and he
repeated the process, instructing me to follow his path, each time he made the
distance between us a little longer. Eventually I made it down the trail
without mishap.
Lesson # 2- Don’t
become overwhelmed by the task before you. When a chore appears insurmountable,
take it in small increments until completed.
By year three I took
the chair lift to the top of the mountain but still kept to the beginner slope.
I now had my own equipment…no more rentals. I had enough confidence to ski without
falling most of the time. Skiing from the top made for a longer run and I
learned to enjoy the sense of freedom. With the quiet shushing sound of the
skis on packed powder, the smell of pine trees around me, the cool wind and
bright sun on my face, I lost all care and worry.
“Better than Valium,”
I told my friend as I thanked her for introducing me to this glorious sport.
One day on a very busy
slope, I fell when I tried to avoid another skier who crossed in front of me.
The skier close behind had no time to
stop and his ski glanced off my head. I slid down the mountain on my slippery
nylon ski suit. In the slide, I lost my goggles and hat, gloves and poles. The
skis came away from my boots but remained attached to my ankles.
When I finally came to
a stop, I watched other skiers create a barrier around me for protection. They
used their poles to make X’s as a fence…a sign that a skier is down. I heard
and saw all they said and did, but couldn’t move or speak. The fall knocked the
wind out of me and I lay immobile. When I finally got my breath back, I tried
to sit up. My rescuers urged me to keep still.
“You’ve been
unconscious,” they said.
“No I wasn’t,” I
insisted.
They maintained that I
had passed out and urged me to lay still. I decided not to argue. Someone got
the ski patrol to come with a sled, and they bundled me onto it and took me to
the First Aid station. They put butterfly closures on the cut on my head and
checked my vital signs. I argued that I didn’t have a concussion. After I
rested a while, they finally discharged me. Someone had retrieved my lost items
and returned them to me. I immediately put on the skis adjusted my hat and
goggles and took my place on the chair lift to the top.
Lesson #3- Even though
a person appears to be unconscious, they may still see and hear everything.
This knowledge helped me in my nursing career. I always spoke carefully around
seemingly comatose patients.
In the fifth year, I
graduated to the intermediate trail. Somehow I made a wrong turn and wound up
on the expert slope. The trails are well marked but I either didn’t see or
mistook the sign. I skied, unaware of my error, until I reached the bottom.
That’s when I found out I’d skied the expert trail.
Lesson # 4- Sometimes
a wrong turn takes you to a more thrilling experience and if you don’t think a
task is difficult it becomes less difficult.
Ten years after my
first ski experience I skied for the last time. I spent a week at Mont
Tremblant in the Lauentien mountains of Quebec. I skied every day, all day and
partied every night. Had a wonderful time. On my last day there, I hit the
slopes early to get as much skiing in before departure. I couldn’t figure out
why I kept falling. I hadn’t fallen all
week. Why now? After several attempts resulting in frequent tumbles, I
figured out that my legs, too tired to hold me up, just collapsed.
Lesson #5- Listen to
your body. It sometimes knows better than your mind.
I decided to pack it
in before I broke something. I took off my skis and settled into a soft chair
in the club house with a hot chocolate as only the French can make it. I
watched the other skiers come and go and knew my skiing days would soon end. I
moved to California that year.
Lessons can always be
found in the everyday mundane and even the misfortunes if we stay open to what is right in front of
us.
