A couple of years ago, a friend told me that part of the reason he goes skiing every weekend has to do with the fact that the brightness of the snow helped him deal with the long, dark days of winter in Oregon. Sometimes the sun even shines on the mountain, creating a glowing, too-bright-for-bare-eyes-and-skin landscape and it touches you to your very core.
The moment we pulled into the parking lot of White River Sno-Park last weekend, I felt every fiber of my being shake off the glumness I've been battling since my wreck and begin to feel new, and happy again. Laying skins against the bases of my skis, pulling on layers, and clicking into my bindings for the first time in 10 weeks was sensational. All I was able to do today was test out my ankle and my recovering calf muscles and tendons; we would just kick and glide in and out of White River Canyon, breaking trail through 12"+ of fresh powder and relishing in the quiet of the canyon before the hoards of sledders, snowshoers, and partiers made their way in.
I started off breaking trail, playing "keep away" with Cinder using the basket of my ski pole (she's obsessed) and remembering what it feels like to cut through snow. My legs began burning after about a mile and I let Andy take over for a bit. I was careful to choose the lowest angle path, avoiding tree wells and other hazards, and avoiding any potentially aggravating sidehilling. Aside from a few niggles from my stabilizers, I felt zero discomfort on skis and spent the morning wrapped in a happy fog so rich I took far fewer photos than the picture-perfect day warranted.
I walked more last week than I have so far in my recovery period. The addition of more regular walking to my routine has made me happier than spending 45-50 minutes on the bike trainer, watching Great British Baking Show in an effort to preserve my sanity. I've also been jumping rope and doing some gentle yoga 4x/week. This small amount of progress has been a huge boost for me! Can't wait for my next PT appointment!