SNOW SUNDAY: NOT SKIING IN A SKI TOWN

02 Feb SNOW SUNDAY: NOT SKIING IN A SKI TOWN

It can be a strange to live in a ski town and not participate in any winter sports. Everywhere you go, it feels like you’re missing out on a whole layer of conversation, a whole layer of life. Even in yoga class, a place you’ve gone to forget your powder woes, there’s talk of deep twists to relieve “your back, tight from too much skiing” and “quad stretches to prepare for the next round of powder turns”.

But in a case like mine, with a body that’s just slowly healing from ACL surgery, it’s also a tremendous gift to be living in a ski town and not skiing. For one, I’ve learned to have gratitude, both that my injury is so minor and that I live in a part of the world that has such excellent health care. We can say what we like about our fractured hospitals and insurance plans but the bottom line is if we are sick, we get better. If we are broken, we can be stitched back together. We are so lucky just to have this option.

Walking magic carpet laps with my 3 year old, Quincy

I also have gratitude for the gift of time. I know this sounds strange because skiing is recreation, technically something we choose to do for fun, but it’s hard for me to resist the hill when there’s fresh powder. If it snows, I feel like I should be out there. It doesn’t seem to matter that I’ve set other goals for myself: to read and write more, do more yoga, spend less money on babysitting, and ski more with my 3 year old.  All of those fly out the window in the face of fresh powder. Without skiing as an option, I get the opportunity to re-examine my life and my goals.

Finally, stripping away hockey and skiing from my winter routine reminds me of how much I do love this town. I’m not only here for the mountains. Nor am I here solely for Telluride’s skiing.

Sitting at dinner recently, where a friend served grilled elk and lit candles with matches from the Swede Finn Hall, brought all of this to a head. I love that we live in a town, where no matter what the real estate prices are, people find value in hunting their own meat. I love that this is a town that values the old as much as the new. While my husband and I clapped when we saw the Swede Finn matches, many at the table had no idea what the Swede Finn was. The dinner was a mix of old timers and folks who had just moved to town, all of them playing for the same hockey team and all of them grateful to be together, sharing a meal. It didn’t matter that the host had lived here as long as some of the guests’ ages. Everyone was eager to hear each other’s stories.

Living in Telluride for a winter without skiing is now part of my story. What a gift it is to be healthy, to have time, to be reminded why I live here, and eventually, to have one more story to tell at a future dinner with friends.