Law School BF has a sister-in-law. Not just any sister-in-law though, but one who took time off after college to move to Alaska to pursue a career in Nordic skiing and attempt to make the Olympics. Jealousy (of taking time off and of being an elite athlete, not of living in Alaska). Being a devoted “nordie", she only wants to do outdoorsy activities all day, every day of her life. Somehow Law School BF’s older and nerdier brother, who hates running, has diabetes and celiac disease (no gluten—can you imagine?), and loves computer games, keeps up with her (when he feels like it). Me, I don’t even try. But we all went on ski vacation together, marathon training went out the window, and simply trying to keep up became a grueling exercise in itself.
The reason I titled this entry “Nordic skiing” in quotes is because Law School BF and I have little to no experience, little to no form, absolutely no idea what we are doing, and look like complete fools when we go “Nordic skiing”. It’s that bad that I have to put it in quotes; it’s like a sloppy, retarded version of real Nordic skiing when we get out there. Picture a 6’4” [tall, dark, and handsome] guy who weighs 195 with about .02 percent of his body weight in his legs. Picture him being somewhat uncoordinated to begin with, and watch him ski off with poles six feet tall going in one direction and skinny skis almost as long going in the other. Also, picture him doing the style of skiing called “sprint 100 yards to try to keep up and then stop to rest because I’m going to die but then start over again asap because I have to show how I can keep up with my big brother.” I’m not a lanky mo-fo, and I just diddle along at my own pace, but I’m sure I look ridiculous too. Sigh. However, sister-in-law makes sure we get the “good” rental stuff and she outfits us with “nordie” gear so we at least look like we know what we are doing. Which, of course, is the most important thing.
I imagine when you ski, like, 100kilometers (that’s how nordies measure) in Canada in the middle of winter in nothing but a skimpy, tight spandex suit that an actual running marathon ain’t so bad. I can only imagine, though. So skiing with sister-in-law on vacation may or may not have been a little stressful on my body. Needless to say, there was no running to be done in Montana and Wyoming. It was: eat, ski, eat, ski, eat, ski, avoid the moose, sit/lie like a zombie, eat, sleep. For six days. It certainly took a chunk out of my ability to run, but it was awesome. PS. If you like skiing, go to Big Sky, Montana.
The reason I titled this entry “Nordic skiing” in quotes is because Law School BF and I have little to no experience, little to no form, absolutely no idea what we are doing, and look like complete fools when we go “Nordic skiing”. It’s that bad that I have to put it in quotes; it’s like a sloppy, retarded version of real Nordic skiing when we get out there. Picture a 6’4” [tall, dark, and handsome] guy who weighs 195 with about .02 percent of his body weight in his legs. Picture him being somewhat uncoordinated to begin with, and watch him ski off with poles six feet tall going in one direction and skinny skis almost as long going in the other. Also, picture him doing the style of skiing called “sprint 100 yards to try to keep up and then stop to rest because I’m going to die but then start over again asap because I have to show how I can keep up with my big brother.” I’m not a lanky mo-fo, and I just diddle along at my own pace, but I’m sure I look ridiculous too. Sigh. However, sister-in-law makes sure we get the “good” rental stuff and she outfits us with “nordie” gear so we at least look like we know what we are doing. Which, of course, is the most important thing.
I imagine when you ski, like, 100kilometers (that’s how nordies measure) in Canada in the middle of winter in nothing but a skimpy, tight spandex suit that an actual running marathon ain’t so bad. I can only imagine, though. So skiing with sister-in-law on vacation may or may not have been a little stressful on my body. Needless to say, there was no running to be done in Montana and Wyoming. It was: eat, ski, eat, ski, eat, ski, avoid the moose, sit/lie like a zombie, eat, sleep. For six days. It certainly took a chunk out of my ability to run, but it was awesome. PS. If you like skiing, go to Big Sky, Montana.
No comments:
Post a Comment