I got out on my pair of cross-country skis today. I went 3 miles. In the last 1.5 mile, I fell 38 times; six of which were on a 50-foot stretch as I was trying to figure out how to find balance and slow down when going downhill. It was only my fourth time at cross-country. All of it within a 2-mile radius of the cabin. The start was hilarious. I crossed a little bridge, and in coming down snapped the ski poles I was using. Fortunately, my old skool skis that I got at the thrift store last month held their own.
By the time I got home 2.5 hours later, my tee was plenty sweaty. Heat steamed off my head. I noticed my shoulders and rotator cuff early on. I’ll be curious to see how tender my ankles and hips are tomorrow. Sauna is prepped.
washing dishes: a father’s glimpses 