Triumph, of sorts.........

Linda Hughes.

Today (Wednesday, January 24, 2007) was a triumph, of sorts.
We went cross-country skiing at the so-called elitist country-club.
“Triumph” because two years ago, the last time I skied, I was down to about two feet per stroke — barely mushing. I wasn’t aware of it, but I’m told I was.
“Boy, it does my heart good to see you ski like that,” Linda said. “It’s that PT-gym.”
We engineered various work-arounds to correct the challenges of yesterday that made skiing impossible.
1) was going to the bathroom before setting out; and 2) was putting on the skis inside the car-door. I tried putting them on inside the car-door yesterday in the garage, and ascertained that indeed it could be done. (All of this cuts out having to attach the skis in the snow — which is almost impossible; usually impossible.)
Today was about 4-5 feet per stroke. Plus glide.
There is a gully you have to cross (the road is graded above it); so I attempted the first downhill. Made it! Got up to about 25 mph — and didn’t fall.
Coming back you cross the gully again, but the downhill on that side is very fast and curves at the bottom.
Cross-country skiing is work. My turtle-neck was soaked with sweat, and the old ticker was a-poundin’. Makes ya breath hard too.
Much more so than walking the dogs.
Most depressing about this whole gig is that we have to leave the dogs behind. Let Killian loose and we’d never see him again. Sabrina would wander off in search of rotting carcasses and deer-pucky.