Don't you just hate the snow and cold. I've never been a skier and the stuff feels alien beneath my feet.
My lasting memory of having planks strapped to my feet left me feeling the slopes were not for me. One of the Architects I worked with held an annual ski race and having a great working relationship I entered our office enlisting a few Franz Klammers to form the team with me. Only minor issue was that I didn't ski. This however wasn't a problem as I had a couple of weeks to learn and Edinburgh does have the best artificial ski slope in the UK or it did at the time.
I duly met a mate who skied on the tiddly slope at Hillend, strapped the alien objects on my feet and set off for the tow. We made our way to the top of the slope and bob a job I was skier, not only a skier but a proficient one. I could snowplough quite happily and stop at the bottom of the starter area. Piece of cake, how hard could this be! After a couple more sessions I could gingerly make my way up the tow and snowplough down the slope from the middle station. I was a natural and slightly surprised I wasn't a distance relative of Franz himself. Franz is the only skier I know and his name will be liberally used in comparison with my own skills.
Duely prepared I set off to Aviemore with my team and all their kit. Imagine having skis I though as we packed the car. Anyway, armed with the confidence of an idiot, we got up early, hired boots, skis and poles and set off for the slopes. The guys donned their ski stuff, I pulled on my waterproof trousers. I was so ready for this. The boys set off to the lift. I didn't have a huge experience of lifts but just did what everyone did except they didn't fall when they tried to get off. I dusted myself down and we headed for the start of the race. Skiing was wonderful! Well it was for about 10 seconds. The guys I was with we're good on ski's. It was also fast and felt nothing like snowploughing down Hillend. It was also scary, very scary. Suddenly the world seemed to be rushing past me as I gathered pace and seemed to lose control. My colleagues were off. They looked cool. I had to do something so I fell over before I took someone out. I think it was a controlled fall but I must of looked a right plonker as a few more skilled skiers appeared to check the guy in the walking jacket was ok. I was fine if a little shaken.
Fortunately there were signs leading me to the start line. I put all of my training into practice and snowploughed to about 100 metres from the start - I could see it but sadly couldn't see a way of getting there as the slope was a vertical drop. It was probably no more than my drive but at the time looked like the north face of the Eiger! It suddenly struck me that 2 lessons might have left me a little under prepared for something that looked all bumpy and lumpy, moguls I believe they are called. In the end I'm embarrassed to admit I slid down to the start on my bum. This did cause the organisers some concern but I assured them I was fine and just messing about. The course wouldn't be that steep would it.......
I was towards the end of the field and this gave me the opportunity to watch a few fellow 'racers' speeding off down the slope to the first gate. My heart was racing, the only thing that would be that day, as I stood at the start gate. There was a bit of a groove formed in the snow so I figured follow the line to gate 1. I was off. The speed built quickly as I traversed the hill hurtling to the first gate, next thing I was there and by some miracle I made it round the gate. The excitement coursed through my veins, I could do this, who knows maybe I had the spirit of Franz and the racer inside would lead me to the podium.
I started to turn into gate 2, my bottom ski went from under me and I was gone. I tumbled and fell spectacularly into the waiting snow. My race was skied. I picked myself up and re-attached my skies. To be honest I had no idea why I did that other than it seemed the right thing to do. So I side slipped my way to the bottom of the course where the organisers kindly offered me the opportunity of taking my run again. I declined the offer and quietly sloped off when the focus went onto the next racer speeding down.
I pottered my way down the slope, unwitnessed and terrified. Eventually I found grass at the side of the piste and my rescue was complete. I wandered down the grass, picked up a coffee and sat in the cafe waiting for my car mates - this took some time as they skied the afternoon away. On returning to our hotel we all met up in the bar for dinner and a couple of drinks. I didn't join into the skiing chat but word of my demise had reached the assembled party causing much hilarity. I didn't explain that this was my first time on snow and my third time on skies as my foolishness would have been complete.
I was in fact a winner as I got the prize for the most spectacular fall of the day. On top of this I learned that I didn't win the prize for the fastest fall of the day as some poor soul had fallen at gate 1. So I held my head a little higher. The swagger returned to my step, I wasn't last and I'd won a prize.
Maybe, just maybe there was a Franz Klammer living inside me and I should get back on the slopes again. Or maybe not.........
Did an hour on the spin bike tonight and it looks like the snow is melting so running again tomorrow just to keep you in the loop with the training!
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