Ski legs

WAKE UP DAVID!  Time to SKI!!

We’ve stayed with Ray & Yvonne quite a few times in different chalets and what keeps us going back is them… they are truly excellent hosts!  And I guess great friends now too! 

Their current chalet is in Chandon, just below Meribel, which makes it a quieter, more comfortable choice and less tempting on the shopping wallet, which is useful at the moment!

The weather was crisp and sunny, the snow in great condition and Yvonne wasted little time in dragging me off piste in search of my old ski legs.  To no avail, alas, as four or five connections to earth attested.  Ray tried again the next morning and over lunch pointed out where I might find them and the afternoon saw my skis working more in line with the instruction manual, but not totally.  Day three heralded the arrival of the unpaid debt collector in search of candle-wax that had been overdue for a couple of weeks: I lay comatose on the sofa for most of the day with only Kim’s twisted knee and our skiing buddies one-year-old grandson for company.

Our skiing buddies are Tim & Anna, whose family company Nursey is the real deal when it comes to leather & sheepskin products, having been manufacturing since 1790!  That’s not to say that they are quite that old, of course… tee hee!  The rest of the party comprised their son Adam, his wife Sandra and aforementioned grandson Thomas; Property developer Martin and his super-cool, ace-boarder son James (a budding Richard Branson if ever I met one!); Sue, Keith, Phil and romper-suited Nick.

After my day of rest, it was the forth day before I finally discovered the ability I think I must have left behind when I was taken out head-on (spun round length-ways in the air and left to hobble home with a broken collarbone) four years ago. 

The first couple of runs felt like I was turning a credit card on a glass table but then it suddenly came back… you know, that roll of the knees into the turn as the shoulders push downhill.  The edges were biting hard again and though I’m sure I’ve been more graceful, I no longer felt like a cookie.  I spent the rest of the day gently pushing the boundaries and rediscovering the joys of carving.

Day five was more of the same but that night Ray went out with James’ can of spray cream and pasted all the slopes with about a foot of extra white stuff.  So day six was a tricky day, with even Ray confessing it was heavy going. 

I went out and pushed myself to do lots of difficult things.  There are only so many jump turns that you can do with rubbish ski fitness but I had a jolly good go.  In fact the steep pistes and off piste sections were easier on the core muscles than trying to ski across the lumpy bumpy flat bits.  Once it gets too flat for a rhythm of regular turns, you have to pretend you’re sprinting whilst dribbling a ball through the England defenders, knees wobbling from side to side like jelly… or your back gets jarred on every lump!

And since I reckon to learn something every time I do it wrong, I had a really great day!

So now we’re home and the ski gear is all packed away for another trip.   I hope I get a chance to use those ski legs before I forget where I’ve put them again!