By Emily Umbdenstock
Skiing is the best way in the
world to waste time.
-Glen Plake
Hello, New Canaanites…with March coming in like a lion and the temperatures rising, it’s hard to believe that winter break in Vermont was just two short weeks ago! Feeling refreshed and ready to return to reality, I’m happy to be back at it, but, nevertheless, vacation memories are still dancing in my mind. We had a lovely family vacation in Stowe…the powder was fresh, the temps were chilly, and the conditions ideal for four days of skiing. Well, skiing for everyone except me, that is. Some quick background info: I do not come from ski people…my mom has never skied and my dad hung up his poles long before I came along, so it’s just not an activity I grew up doing. Instead, for us, vacations typically meant sand beaches, turquoise waters and temperatures above 75 degrees. Fast forward years later…and…it happened: I fell in love with a skier…and, wouldn’t you know it, I married him. Tyler grew up on the west coast, taking annual ski trips to the mountains of Lake Tahoe. So, just to be clear friends, the man can ski.
Now I’ve always known that it was important to my husband that our children were put on skis as young as possible (I believe the age of four is the magic ski school number). And, honestly, it was something that I wanted too. I often wished that I knew how to ski…growing up I missed out on school ski trips, cozy lodges, and the natural high brought on by the pure exhilaration and exhaustion that comes with a ski vacation. I loved the idea of my family snuggled together by the fire at the end of the day sipping hot chocolate and snacking on Belgian waffles…I mean, yes please, sign me up!
What I didn’t factor into the equation, however, was the fact that I’d be learning along with my children, and, quite frankly, I was terrified. Pre-motherhood, I subscribed to the tenant that I did not participate in sports involving ambulances waiting at the bottom of the hill. Skiing is really the only sport I can think of where you spend an arm and a leg to possibly break your arm (and your leg!). And folks, although the absolute last thing I need in my forties as a busy mother of three is a torn ACL or a dislocated hip, I didn’t want to be left on the sidelines while my family whizzed down the mountain, so I gave it a go. Thus, every winter we have traveled to Vermont, and I took lessons and rode the bunny slopes along with my kids.
Now, as I have watched in awe as my children have quickly surpassed me, long since graduating to steeper trails, I realized that fear is a huge factor when learning to ski in adulthood…I no longer possessed that childhood feeling of invincibility. I once read an article in Forbes magazine equating learning to ski at 40 to trying to re-invent yourself in business or creating a start-up. In both instances, in order to be successful, you must use fear as a motivational tool rather than a deterrent.
Am I still scared every time I take off from the top of the mountain? Heck, yes, I am. Do I stick to greens and blues? Absolutely. I like to go for easy runs with my family in the morning, and then I call it a day and leave them to the harder trails as I “apres”. I move at my own speed: slow. Even though I experience the panic of risking life and limb each and every time I ski down the mountain, I also feel that undeniable adrenaline rush. Truth be told, I’ve truly grown to love the feeling freedom that only skiing can provide; it’s as if I’m flying minus the wings.
Sadly, I could not ski with my family this time around, as I didn’t want to aggravate a newly healed injury. And even though I enjoyed the time to myself to apres ALL day, I couldn’t help but feel left out as my family bundled up and hit the slopes each morning. I missed skiing, and, more, importantly, I missed the time spent adventuring with Tyler and the kids. I once read a quote that said, “Skiing is not about the turns you make, it’s about the memories you create.” Afterall, we may not have it all together, but together we certainly have it all! And while I’m looking forward to swapping snow for sand and ski suits for bathing suits, I’ll see you on the mountain next winter, I promise!
