Today was the day...

Today was the day. The very fearsome first day when she must ski. It has been ten years since her last ski...

She woke early, saw by her watch that there was time to luxuriate in semi-sleep mode and so snuggled back down into her comfiest position. As her eyes closed she tried to waft away to that place between wakefulness and sleepiness. This proved an impossibility as her mind had left the warmth and comfort of her bed and was racing perilously towards the snow covered mountains. She was restless. She was tossing and turning over the simple things - how to get on the chair-lift, how to get off the chair-lift, where to plant the stocks, how to face down the mountain and to hold her body in the correct position when all she wanted to do was stay put on higher ground. Friends and family had reassured her that skiing was like riding a bike - once ridden never forgotten. She wanted to believe them, she liked their logic, but she never had been good at riding bicycles, rather the opposite and so that particular ill chosen analogy placed her very much on shaky ground. 'There is nothing to fear but fear itself', that was her problem. She fully understood that her mind was the agitator and not her ability to ski but what she rationalised and what she felt were never going to meet in the middle. You see, she wanted to re-connect with the sport. She wanted to search out and find her lost love and more that anything else she wanted to ski with her family. She wasn't ready to hang up her poles and put away her skis; she had a few downhill miles left to run. She needed to stop thinking and start skiing. 


She explained all her fears and hopes to her ski instructor, Victor. She was smart enough to have arranged her own teacher for day one - her limitations could have been tedious for others in her party who were not facing the same demons. Victor understood her plight and had years of practise when it came to 'snow nerves'. He masterfully took control and whisked her away to the gentle slopes before she could plead a sudden illness, the onset of a massive headache or any other lame excuse that had flashed by her imagination. He talked quietly and gently, assuring her that he would take it easy and that she could follow in her own time. Victor inspired her confidence. He got her to the top and he got her down to the bottom. Over and over he performed this quiet miracle; she followed his lead without as much as a tear or close encounter of the snow kind. She was happy, she was back on the slopes and she felt triumphant. She mightn't look effortless and her stance was just about all wrong. She most definitely would not win the ski bunny style award or the downhill speed racer record... but she was upright with skis running and poles planted. She was skiing, xv.

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