“Back in the saddle again?” That
might be an appropriate phrase for the state of recovery I'm in at
this point, 7 weeks after hip surgery. Although not pedaling as of
this writing, I did finally clip into ski bindings, cinched tightly
the straps of my poles and took the first baby steps to enjoying
winter again. The surgeon gave me the all clear a few days ago,
telling me to “wean yourself off the crutches” and “start using
the muscles in your leg again.” Okay-that's a green enough light
for me. Even though the joint itself feels good, the soft tissue
will remain tender for some time. No matter, 4 inches of new snow was
calling my name.
Typically, my winter involves a lot of
ski trail grooming, skiing and snow biking, but with the lay up,
other club members jumped in and did a stellar job keeping trails in
shape. So good, in fact, that after the last snowfall, I could
wait no longer. Usually I skate ski the majority of the time and
even though I was excited by my Dr.s go-ahead, I knew that technique
would have to wait. Classical skiing however, would be much gentler,
smooth and lend itself to getting me back in ski shape again. So
with some trepidation, I clicked in and slid my boards into the
tracks at my favorite trail, Levis Mound.
To describe this morning, nothing would
be more spot on than “Winter Wonderland. The beautiful snowfall
was preceded by sleety rain, which helped glue the white flock to
every branch and twig trailside. Simply beautiful. Leaving the chalet is a gentle
downhill, and not knowing what my leg would do, I started with some
double poling. I figured two ski poles should equal one crutch,
right? As my momentum slowed, I needed to start a little kick and
glide to keep up with some imaginary ski partners ahead.
Surprisingly, the ageless beauty of striding on classic skis started
filtering back into my totally unfit body. Hip was good, muscles and
busied tendons seem to work and soon the rhythm of the technique
carried me down the trail.
I'd thought before that maybe a little
short ski would be in order-just a test of my abilities for the first
outing. But, as things usually go, I just couldn't turn back-not
yet. Two skate skiers ahead continued on and I took a turn onto a
different longer trail. “I'll just go a ways and then come back.”
I tried to believe. As the kilometers started passing by and the
scenery getting impossibly better, I gave up turning back. I was at
the point of no return I figured, “I might as well keep going and
do the whole Bad Bear loop.” I stopped more frequently that I ever
would, but that was a good thing. I need to rest and more so soak
in everything around me in the forest. Lord knows I had too many
days and weeks cooped up inside. I was glad to be skiing alone for
inside, even though I could give myself a pass, I'd be embarrassed by
how slow I was moving. Again, no matter-it felt so damn good to be
skiing again, sucking in cold air and feeling the heart pound a
little cresting a climb.
The easier flat route was one choice on
my return, or there was the hilly shorter route. The logic Steve on
one shoulder said take the flat trail, this is your first time out.
The “can't-wait-to-ski” Steve on the other side shouted “hills!”
Although I'd pay the price on the climbs-on this day, I really
needed to smoke down at least one hill-JackRabbit Draw. Upon
cresting, and starting my descent, suddenly I realized maybe this
wasn't the best idea. Classic skis don't have the stability like my
usual skate ones, and my slight snowplow to scrub speed was a shaky
at best. Set tracks however, soon had the boards locked in like
rails and I couldn't help grin a little as I finished the run out at
the bottom. From this point, it was a short ski back to the
trailhead and the completion of my first outing. Unclipping and then
getting some help removing the ski boots (not all the flexibility is
back yet!) I realized how much I missed skiing. It's said you never
know how much you miss something until it's gone. I may have over
did it a little, but I'll forgive myself this time.
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