Friday, December 11, 2009

An unfortunate run-in with a sand trap

I went skiing on the Concord golf course yesterday, because Weston didn't have much snow left, and Maurice and Susan (Maurice is my great uncle) live right next to the golf course, so I could go visit with them first. I haven't skied on this golf course before, and I was impressed with how hilly it was. Quite some terrain! It was also very landscaped, with all the greens on little raised hummocks and some serious sand traps out there. dum dum dum...

I didn't expect much from the snow, just because Concord had snow coverage didn't mean it would be good conditions - it had rained there, too. The "snow" was more of a crust, like summer glacier snow, all lumpy and wavy and bumpy. It was icy enough that although I was attempting to classic, my wax was gone in about five minutes (binder? Who needs a binder?), so I started sklassicking, that awkward motion of sort of skating on classic equipment over sketchy snow. The uphills were alright, fun even, but the downhills were downright terrifying. Oh, I should mention it was dark. My light is just not quite strong enough, and so I couldn't really see very far down the hill - given the icy conditions, I was moving pretty quickly down the hills, and whatever was at the bottom was coming up at me FAST. For the most part, I could interpret the shadows well enough to avoid any major obstacles, but my depth perception was all screwy, so there were several instances of me frantically waving my arms trying to stay upright as the hill kept going down while I thought it was supposed to go up - as I said, depth perception (and up/down perception, I guess) was all messed up.

Anyway, after about an hour of this, I decided I'd had enough. Not much training benefit to be had, and I was sick of being scared of every downhill. I was on the flat part near the lodge, and I saw a little uphill ahead of me. I was moving pretty fast, so I figured my momentum would take me right up the little hill, which it did, but then my ski tips disappeared out from under me and we had a little face-snow interaction. It happened so fast, that my first thought was "why is my light pointed at the snow?" Then I realized my face hurt, I wish I'd taken this picture before cleaning up the blood on my chin. This morning its scabbed over, looks even more impressive.

this may be the most un-feminine picture I've ever taken of myself, I tried to smile but my lips hurt from kissing the ice.

Of course, the gore factor has nothing compared to what my leg looked like after crashing on rollerskis last weekend. That bruise has gone through all the colors of the rainbow by now (except a pale pink, we're still waiting on that one), but the damn road rash catches on my pants at work, making movement pretty painful. I've got to stop falling down!

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