We arrived home at 8:00 last night. K had picked up Baxter from the kennel and deposited him at home. He was quite happy to see us. In fact, the lady at the kennel told K that she didn't think the kennel life was one Baxter ever wanted to be acquainted with for long. In other words, he is a bit pampered and spoiled at home. You think?? He jumped into my arms for some snuggling when we arrived home. Sheer relief on that little face!
The first half of Spring Break has been wonderful. The last half will be a bit full, too--but all things I am eagerly anticipating: a haircut and pedicure, a niece's play, and a class reunion.
But...I don't want to forget all the great things about this trip:
*The slopes weren't crowded.
*I didn't have to wait in a single lift line.
*There was fresh snow both days. The first day they had about an inch. The second day they had about 3 inches, with more falling as the day progressed.
*Ski trails were frequently empty. It was so peaceful.
*My rental ski boots fit the best of any ski boots I have ever worn. *Ever*Ever*Ever! Amazing. No sore spots. No bruises. (Sometimes I have been downright miserable.)
*I didn't take a single spill. I came close, but always managed to pull it out at the last second! (I guess my balance isn't quite as bad as I thought.)
*Finally, I bought a new pair of Adidas running shoes on the way home. These shoes imitate running barefoot. (No, they don't look like gloves!) We'll see how I feel about them after a couple of runs. (I hate breaking in new shoes!)
The last ski trip was dreadful. This one was absolutely perfect. I feel like someone was looking out for me--I mean, besides the Mr. (He was a good sport to agree to another ski trip, especially since he doesn't ski. He toted lunch, waited patiently for me to arrive at the bottom of the slope, and bought hot chocolate. In other words--he took good care of me. He is the best!!)
"I lift up mine eyes to the hills, from whence cometh my help..." I'm pretty sure He had a hand in how pleasant this trip was, too!
Showing posts with label skiing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label skiing. Show all posts
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Check Another One Off
Day #2 of skiing was a bit different. We woke up to snow and clouds.
It snowed off and on all day long. In spite of that, on the first run up the lift I skiied a green bowl that I love. I was one of the first skiers up there. (I can't tell you how many of my runs in the last two days have been in quiet solitude. Someone looking out for me?)
I wasn't the only person at the bowl. In fact, a couple of us exchanged cameras and took pictures for each other.
It was freezing cold and snowing. In fact, snow was blowing pretty good, but it didn't matter. I was skiing! Five years ago I was afraid I would never get to do this again.
And not only could I ski; but I could bike 20+ miles, run a 5K, and tackle almost anything. Marge over at Soeurs Du Jour knows this: Sometimes the curve balls life throws at us-- give us a whole new perspective. And that is a blessing worth celebrating.
To top it off, my little baby sister turned 50 yesterday. To celebrate her birthday and my return to skiing, I drank a lemon drop martini in her honor. (Well, after the whiteout drove me off the mountain! By the way-- I am not a fan of martinis!) Happy Birthday, Sis! Who knew that 50 wouldn't look that bad to me? Every birthday is worth celebrating. Some things I know for sure.
After I talked to Dad to let him know that I was OK--that I had survived skiing, I checked the last thing off my post-stroke bucket list.
You might be asking how I did that? At "Ollie's Pub and Grub" in Frisco I signed a dollar bill. One of the waiters put a tack through the dollar, put a quarter on the other side, folded and soaked the dollar bill, and threw it onto the wooden ceiling. It stuck. When the dollar dries out, the quarter will fall. My dollar will be with all the other dollars-- stuck to the ceiling. The waiter told me that was a way of leaving my mark....
Actually, I can think of about a million other ways I'd like to leave my mark. BUT...there is a dollar that says "Stroke Survivor" on a ceiling of "Ollies." We'll call that good for now!
After I talked to Dad to let him know that I was OK--that I had survived skiing, I checked the last thing off my post-stroke bucket list.
You might be asking how I did that? At "Ollie's Pub and Grub" in Frisco I signed a dollar bill. One of the waiters put a tack through the dollar, put a quarter on the other side, folded and soaked the dollar bill, and threw it onto the wooden ceiling. It stuck. When the dollar dries out, the quarter will fall. My dollar will be with all the other dollars-- stuck to the ceiling. The waiter told me that was a way of leaving my mark....
Actually, I can think of about a million other ways I'd like to leave my mark. BUT...there is a dollar that says "Stroke Survivor" on a ceiling of "Ollies." We'll call that good for now!
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Darn Near Perfect
Sunshine and snow. Almost no lift lines. The trails weren't crowded. I'm not sure I could have picked a more perfect day to return to the slopes.
The first run was a bit timid (or rather, I was!); I had to remember what I was doing. (Even remembering how to get on and off the lift was a bit daunting!) Thankfully, it is kind of like riding a bike. You just don't forget. My second and third runs, besides being beautiful, were definitely solo. There wasn't a soul on the trail. I don't remember that ever happening before. It was just me, soft powder, sunshine, and fresh air.
After the first run, the Mr. snapped these pictures. He doesn't ski. This year, he waited patiently at the bottom for me. I think he was pretty relieved when I arrived.
The first run was a bit timid (or rather, I was!); I had to remember what I was doing. (Even remembering how to get on and off the lift was a bit daunting!) Thankfully, it is kind of like riding a bike. You just don't forget. My second and third runs, besides being beautiful, were definitely solo. There wasn't a soul on the trail. I don't remember that ever happening before. It was just me, soft powder, sunshine, and fresh air.
After the first run, the Mr. snapped these pictures. He doesn't ski. This year, he waited patiently at the bottom for me. I think he was pretty relieved when I arrived.
The smile says it all!
I took this picture on my last run of the day. The name of the trail: "Carefree."
Yeah, it was good to be back!
Monday, March 21, 2011
A Change or Two
Forget the yellow ski jacket. It is supposed to be 50 degrees today on slope. I guess spring has come to the mountains, at least for a day. Hope it isn't like skiing in a snow cone. I think a wind breaker will suffice by afternoon.
Tomorrow there is a 60% chance of snow and a high of 37... and we're back to winter! I'm guessing my yellow ski jacket will get a workout then.
Since it is too early to post ski pictures yet, I will share a couple of pictures of Baxter.
If you're wondering what he is doing behind the wheel, I'll tell you: He thinks he is driving!
Tomorrow there is a 60% chance of snow and a high of 37... and we're back to winter! I'm guessing my yellow ski jacket will get a workout then.
Since it is too early to post ski pictures yet, I will share a couple of pictures of Baxter.
Yep. So where is he going? Well, the joke's on him; he's driving himself to the critter sitter's house. And I'm sure there will be paybacks when we arrive home.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Returning to the Scene
Even as this is posting, I am headed to Colorado for a ski trip. That makes me the same as quite a few other people. Church youth groups, college coeds, and families head for the slopes during spring break every year.
This is my first ski trip in quite awhile. In fact, five years ago on this very day (March 20, 2006), I was skiing down slope when I had a stroke. An artery in my brain ruptured flooding the lower right cerebellum with blood. It would take 24 hours for them to discover that; yet in that instant, all I knew was that something was really wrong. Since I was still skiing, I had to figure out how to get prone (fall!) and how to get help. (Believe me, they come!)
I spent a week in a Denver hospital, spent several months regaining my sense of balance, and even made a trip to Mayo to determine the cause of the stroke. I missed the entire 4th nine weeks of school. (I wrote more about it here.)
During those first few weeks, I held onto walls when I walked--which I didn't do very often. I felt "carsick" or dizzy most of the time. I would lie in bed and look at the ceiling. I slept. I couldn't watch television (rapidly changing camera angles), couldn't use a computer (eye tracking made me sick, not to mention a flashing cursor), and I couldn't read (again with the eye tracking problem).
I finally figured out that my brain would learn to "re-wire" itself if I took things gradually. I walked inside and finally outside, but only on the Mr.'s arm. I read large print books one page and eventually one chapter at a time. I had a Myspace page created for me to lure me back on the computer.
By the end of that first summer, I could walk by myself for a mile or so. That fall I returned to school. I avoided the halls because all the moving bodies brought back the nausea and dizziness. I didn't make U town's home football games. There were too many people, and I was often claustrophobic--like my perception of the world was off.
Gradually, things started feeling more normal. By late winter, I even attended a few home basketball games and other crowded events in big arenas. The halls of Tiny Town High no longer bothered me.
By the summer of 2007, I began running again and even entered a couple of races. I finally got back on a bicycle. Biking made it look like the world was moving while I moved. It took some time before I could go very far. As soon as I could, I was back to biking 7 to 10 miles--always with the Mr. following closely behind to check my progress or provide a sag wagon. That summer, part of our vacation included a 26 mile bike ride on the KATY Bike Trail.
By '08 I was strong enough to help our town and school recover from a devastating tornado. In the past five years, I have flown on an airplane several times. Only last summer, I went out on a boat for the first time since the stroke.
But there was still one thing that I wanted to try again, and that brings us to today--or rather, tomorrow.
I haven't been on skis since my stroke. I love to ski. I love the smell of the snow, the view, and the fresh air. I don't ski fast. I'm not a daredevil. I just like pushing myself to take new runs and stay upright.
The Mr. has finally consented to two days of skiing. My dad is less than thrilled. The LBB (little big brother) asked me if I was just like my students. "Have you learned nothing??!!" K and L haven't said much. I think they know I can do it.
So this is one last thing to conquer, and then I'll be satisfied that I have recovered. And it has only taken me five years to get to this point. I am a survivor. Tomorrow is a celebration of that. Feel free to picture me on a beautiful snowy slope. I'll be the one in a yellow ski jacket with a great big smile on my face!
There are two links on this post. If you click on the words in green they will take you to previous writings on my stroke..
This is my first ski trip in quite awhile. In fact, five years ago on this very day (March 20, 2006), I was skiing down slope when I had a stroke. An artery in my brain ruptured flooding the lower right cerebellum with blood. It would take 24 hours for them to discover that; yet in that instant, all I knew was that something was really wrong. Since I was still skiing, I had to figure out how to get prone (fall!) and how to get help. (Believe me, they come!)
I spent a week in a Denver hospital, spent several months regaining my sense of balance, and even made a trip to Mayo to determine the cause of the stroke. I missed the entire 4th nine weeks of school. (I wrote more about it here.)
During those first few weeks, I held onto walls when I walked--which I didn't do very often. I felt "carsick" or dizzy most of the time. I would lie in bed and look at the ceiling. I slept. I couldn't watch television (rapidly changing camera angles), couldn't use a computer (eye tracking made me sick, not to mention a flashing cursor), and I couldn't read (again with the eye tracking problem).
I finally figured out that my brain would learn to "re-wire" itself if I took things gradually. I walked inside and finally outside, but only on the Mr.'s arm. I read large print books one page and eventually one chapter at a time. I had a Myspace page created for me to lure me back on the computer.
By the end of that first summer, I could walk by myself for a mile or so. That fall I returned to school. I avoided the halls because all the moving bodies brought back the nausea and dizziness. I didn't make U town's home football games. There were too many people, and I was often claustrophobic--like my perception of the world was off.
Gradually, things started feeling more normal. By late winter, I even attended a few home basketball games and other crowded events in big arenas. The halls of Tiny Town High no longer bothered me.
By the summer of 2007, I began running again and even entered a couple of races. I finally got back on a bicycle. Biking made it look like the world was moving while I moved. It took some time before I could go very far. As soon as I could, I was back to biking 7 to 10 miles--always with the Mr. following closely behind to check my progress or provide a sag wagon. That summer, part of our vacation included a 26 mile bike ride on the KATY Bike Trail.
By '08 I was strong enough to help our town and school recover from a devastating tornado. In the past five years, I have flown on an airplane several times. Only last summer, I went out on a boat for the first time since the stroke.
But there was still one thing that I wanted to try again, and that brings us to today--or rather, tomorrow.
I haven't been on skis since my stroke. I love to ski. I love the smell of the snow, the view, and the fresh air. I don't ski fast. I'm not a daredevil. I just like pushing myself to take new runs and stay upright.
The Mr. has finally consented to two days of skiing. My dad is less than thrilled. The LBB (little big brother) asked me if I was just like my students. "Have you learned nothing??!!" K and L haven't said much. I think they know I can do it.
So this is one last thing to conquer, and then I'll be satisfied that I have recovered. And it has only taken me five years to get to this point. I am a survivor. Tomorrow is a celebration of that. Feel free to picture me on a beautiful snowy slope. I'll be the one in a yellow ski jacket with a great big smile on my face!
There are two links on this post. If you click on the words in green they will take you to previous writings on my stroke..
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