Saturday, February 20, 2016

That funky ski-boots walk.

I'm jealous.

I'm surrounded by mountains and quaint chalets, huge flakes of snow falling on already fallen feet of snow, quiet, pine trees, and whisper-loud gondolas cross my field of view, one every 10 seconds, a few skiers in each. Skiers ski down to just where my son and I have stopped, to play with the holiday village's vast array of tractors and trucks, and do that funky ski boots walk past us. Or below us to store their skis in the garage under the building. Or fly up the mountain, ready to fly down it.

And I'm jealous. I'm sad that we arrived 6 years ago in Switzerland with my husband's bum knee and my just-about-to-herniate disk. That one of the best things about this country - the fact that even my 6 year old is excited and happy about skiing, confident, already wondering where we'll ski when we move back to America - is the ubiquitous downhill skiing, and we're ill-equipped to take part.

I've been skiing many times in my life, but I was younger then and had never had to lie in a bed for the better part of 2 months with nerve and muscle pain filling my days should I move from my one safe position. I could try to strengthen my core enough to try skiing but if it isn't enough, the risk is too great. Two small kids, a dog, a job. I can't risk more time off than I already have to take for daycare flu and cold season. My body just can't handle skiing anymore. And that makes me jealous of all those couples, singles, families funky-walking past me. The college students that leave my apartment building in the city with their ski boots on and go the 5 min. to the train station and up to a slope for the day. The sales on boots, skis, gloves, helmets, jackets. It makes me sad. I can't go down a slope with my daughter who has just learned to fall in love with doing so.

So while school ski holidays this year (two weeks for going off skiing with your kids, of course) found me in a mountain village, watching snow fall, it also found me longing to be having the argument with my spouse about who could go skiing that day with my daughter. Even he shouldn't have (he busted his bad knee again), but it was probably less of a risk for him than for me.

I wish I was younger and stronger and my daughter and I could enjoy this together. But we can't. I'm going to have to deal with that.

And hope for one day of good enough weather and snow that I can go cross-country. For an hour or two, just to be able to say I went skiing while I lived here.

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