This morning I woke up to snowflakes lazily falling from the sky, everything was coated in white, very pretty. Before my pot of coffee and cereal, I started a fire in the library because after the warmth of my bed, the library was uncomfortably cold. This time of day is my favorite and breakfast is always my favorite meal with coffee being my favorite beverage during my favorite time of day. When it’s quiet and my mind is alert and clear, not tired and foggy which comes around the 2 o’clock. I read and understand everything, hee, hee, I write coherent posts for my political blog and I often answer a Plinky prompt while I’m at it.
Jack was scheduled for his wellness checkup and his rabies vaccine for 2 o’clock so I wanted to get his two walks in before going. I am relentless with his exercise as I have said before, last year the vet said he had to lose two pounds, so today I wanted to give us our best fighting chance. Intellectually I know that an extra walk wouldn’t shave any weight today but walking wouldn’t hurt anyway.
While we were walking, I was thinking about what my hubby said last week, the snow reminded me. He talked about wanting to go skiing as a family. We all have ski equipment from years ago, the latest skis, bindings and boots and the technology hasn’t changed since we bought them, I think it was eight years ago. I know that I haven’t skied in at least five years and honestly the thought of skiing wasn’t making me feel optimistic. I couldn’t help my mind from painting images of me and my equipment walking up to the ski lodge and my mind was sending all these exhausted feelings to my legs and arms from the weight of the equipment. I know that this is a shameful self-defeating frame of mind but once I was down this path, the mind wasn’t letting up. My mind was visualizing exactly how easy and fast it is to wipe out and how much it can hurt.
I was thinking that I’m letting my tiredness get to me but I remember all too well the huge wipe outs I had when I was young, when I fall, it is never a small fall, it is huge with legs flailing and arms waving. Haven’t broken any bones but I have done some twisted damage. That pushed my imagination into imagining the ground coming up to meet unhappily with my backside or hip or some other important part of my body. I now understand how my mother felt when she started skiing at the age of 40, the ground seems so much closer then when your younger. My bones were yelling internally, we don’t want to fall, we don’t want to feel the ground unnecessarily.
I was thinking in this self-defeatist manner because I have let too many years get away from me and skiing. I have never been a great skier but I used to make it down a slope without falling, usually, and I know how to stop, more importantly. Before when we skied more frequently, falling didn’t bother me, maybe because I was used to it, now it’s been over five years and I know that I am rusty, so it’s probably all this misapprehension that was influencing my negative thinking.
A ski trip should be fine, I’ll hang out on the bunny slope with the little ones. They’ll keep me safe, not, those little ones are like tiny kamikase’s barreling down the slopes full speed ahead. I’m joking, the bunny slope will be fine for a little old lady, me.
