January 1 is a really rotten day to commence with resolutions, especially when you wake up half-hungover in a Hampton Inn in ski country after 6 hours of sleep and a belly full of factory-farmed red meat. (Hmm, what’s good at the complimentary breakfast buffet?) But despite all of my indulgences, I could solace myself with the excellent physical outdoor activity reaped from a day of XC skiing followed by a day of downhill skiing at Bretton Woods. Because if your shoulder and thigh muscles are screaming though your mind is serenely blissed, you must be doing something right.
It was our first official ski outing this season for both downhill and XC (though we did take our backcountry skis for a quick neighborhood run in the aftermath of last week’s blizzard). New Hampshire is hurting for snow, so we had to go as far north as Bretton Woods to find a fully-open nordic center. It took about an hour for me to rediscover my balance and rhythm and fully feel comfortable on my skating skis. But Mr. P was, of course, born on skis.
Schuss!
After three hours of XC skiing, during which we sufficiently released our pent-up frustration of not having been able to ski for the last nine months, we relaxed and reveled in the outdoors.
Looking at Mt Washington
Since ski lift tickets are ridiculously expensive, we woke up at 7:30am on New Year’s Day to be at the Bretton Woods downhill area when they opened at 9am. Because I’m going to get my money’s worth.
The slopes were quiet until around noon, though the weather stayed dismal all day. My new ski helmet afforded little tenacity; I still ski incredibly slow. “I’m working on my technique,” I explain to Mr. P, who is eternally waiting for me. Plant the pole, lift the back ski, turn, repeat. Even on the green trails, where technique is wholly unnecessary, I work on my technique.
After passing the day pleasantly at Bretton Woods, we returned home and snarfed wine and an abundance of unhealthy foodstuffs. Because resolutions can always start tomorrow.
