Last Saturday, we excitedly left St. John's for Montreal and spent a great night and day exploring the city. I was itching to get on the hills. We drove to New Hampshire Sunday evening and arrived in the snowy town of Bartlett surrounded by ski hills in time for a couple of relaxing beer with some family. I was finally going to be swooshing down the hills after a two year wait the next morning.
Monday morning I woke with a stuffed head. I was a bit feverish but that wasn't stopping me. Terry and I would have to take turns on the hill while the other stayed with the babe. My teen and I were going first! On with the gear. To the slopes. Up the lift. Ahhhhhhhhh..... the ride.... my board cutting the snow... the wind brushing my face.... plop.
My legs were wobbly. My head was heavy. My eyes were watery. My nose was runny. I had the chills and the sweats at the same time. And it made me fall down a few times. The ride was not what I'd been dreaming about for two years.
I got through the morning. Yeah. Got through! No shredding. No big exuberant yeehaws. No squeals of delight. I was sick.
The next day is a blur. Relatives took the baby. Terry and my teen went to the hill. And I shivered and sweat the day away in bed.
By the third day, I was on the mend. Terry and my teen were off to the hill while I prepared myself and the baby. I was dizzy but was doing this. I made it to the hill. It was a different hill and the trails were loooooonnnng. After the first ride, I needed a break! The second ride was fabulous. Best ride I had all week. Another break. I hit my head on the third ride. But it was a good one. After that I was done. I had no energy and the fever lingered.
That night I lay awake, dizzy with a headache the entire night. The baby started waking around 4 a.m. and was up for the remainder of the night. By 8 a.m. I was asleep. There was no way I was making it to the hill on our final day. Terry (he was sick too), my teen, the relatives, the friends visiting for a couple of days.... they all went to the hill. I sulked at home with the baby.
I struggled through the week. I had to work hard to listen to my body. I desperately wanted to be on the hills. After my fever broke and I started feeling better, I was mad at myself for not pushing to get on the hills. But that was crazy. I surrendered when I had to. It was still a great week. My daughter had a ball. We saw family. I met some of Terry's old friends. We had a great time in Montreal. I simply got sick and couldn't snowboard for four days straight.
I'm working on what my lesson is with all this. My desire to get on that hill was so strong and I am so disappointed. Maybe that's my lesson. Maybe I'm too attached to my desire to snowboard. So I'm letting go.....
Namaste
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