Greetings from Steamboat, Colorado.
My family and I (Dave, Rob and His Lordship) have just spent a long weekend filled with snowboarding—except Dave, he’s the skiier—booze and an abundant amount of meat (including elk).
Although the snow wasn’t the most optimal, it was still better than anything on the East Coast (in my opinion, anyway), and the mountain is super wide, leaving us with some serious runs (and damage) to take care of down the mountain. [And I’m quite delighted to say that it is currently snowing and that my father and brother get another day on the slopes with better conditions.]
Snowboarding is probably my favorite activity in life. I started when I was 13 (and I was purely awful), and have progressed with the help of my older brother coaching me. Every year, my father, brother and I plan a yearly vacation to the slopes out West, and I still haven’t decided whether I’m more relaxed on a mountain or on a beach.
Oh, and since I’m in the midst of training for a marathon, I may as well use this as cross-training, right? Right.Our weekend was kicked off with a fantastic bus driver taking us to our hotels. He gave us a sheet—which he wrote himself, no doubt—of his personal preferences for eating, drinking and activities.
Unfortunately I barely took this sheet into account, as the restaurant adjacent to our hotel was indeed exceptional.
After the first day on the slopes (ahem, I did indeed get air… once, but I’ll take it…) I woke up on Sunday morning to a grumpy boyfriend.
“I feel like I got beat up by a gang.”
“Duh. I told you you would feel like this yesterday.”
Indeed. His Lordship was feeling the wrath of West Coast boarding and how it affects those muscles you never knew existed. I love the feeling of muscle soreness after a day on the slopes. It’s a feeling of strength training that I don’t feel running or in the gym.
There was no running (except during the he-who-must-not-be-named runaway board incident), and I’m quite okay with that. I think I got enough of a workout over the three day period of snowboarding (although, day three was a wash as I caught an edge and landed my knee directly on a softball size piece of ice).
And let’s be honest, the scenery up here is beautiful. I have actually thought about moving from the City for the majority of the weekend. Simply because it’s a different way of living, where everything is laid back in the wide open spaces with kind people (except that bitch who started barking at me during the Giants game).
So. What did we learn? I learned that I don’t have to strength-train for at least week due to the activity out here. I’ve also learned that I can sleep for a full 12 hours. And being out here has made me thought about my stress level. That things aren’t always as bad as it seems, and not to worry about the small stuff. Sounds cliché, I know. But at least I got the picture.
Many thanks to you, Rocky Mountains, for being you.
Now it’s back to the City and reality. More spring training awaits.