I managed to almost ski well the last few days, spring conditions and hubris that only comes from a few hundred thousand feet of earned turns.
Inside looking out.
#nofilter I like sleep and all but this is way better than laying in bed getting slow(er). Off season? No… new season. 1200 meters by dawn
The dirt cheered me on, not that it wanted my success but anything to get me moving away, over it, on to the next area. I saw every bit of the course from 2 meters away, every line I could take and blend with the line from the lap before, changing, figuring out what I might do next, what a little acceleration thru a turn might gain, the delicious donut I’ll eat at some point in the next week. How half a beer some nights is perfect. Instead I’m stuck, locked in a puzzle that I’ll finish in about an hour. Eager to finish the season off with something resembling completion, not wanting to limp into winter with a weakness that comes only from poor preparation and zero diligence. I finished with anything but that, it was a victory, it was what I wanted but didn’t see as something that could be mine. Chasing a ghost, unaware that this was a good day. Focused on the next 50 meters, never on an hour down the clock, it was my little box I had built to ride in without much interference. In the end I had time time to savor the feeling, not too much celebration, enough to respect the result, but not too much…there’s more work to be done on the snow.
This did happen and I’m getting to be ok with it. I haven’t gone into winter with this kind of peace in a long time. I have so much happiness associated with what we do every weekend in the fall and now I’ve taken a small piece of that into winter. Resting this weekend made today’s ski at 5am a slice something I need to eat every day. Earning my breakfast or paying for what I left behind. I’m thrilled to have the opportunity to do it, and honored to have done it.
F. Scott Fitzgerald, A Nice Quiet Place (via fitzgeraldquotes)