I used to snowboard in my teens every weekend. We lived in a town about an hour north of Munich, and there was a poky little train that trundled through the Bavarian countryside which we took to get into the mountain town of Garmisch-Partenkirchen. My mates and I would spend the day on the slopes before wearily making the trip home after the lifts closed, and though I wasn't spectacularly great at it (no 360's or anything requiring leaving the surface of the Earth at any point), I enjoyed calmly surfing down the slopes and enjoying the wind in my hair.
Unfortunately one day I fully ate SHIT and broke my collarbone. I was tootling down a narrow trail and caught an edge and went flying. I heard what sounded exactly like celery snapping and lay in the snow, winded, thinking I'd broken a rib. I managed to sit up, then stand up, and, since nobody was coming down the trail, picked up my board, tucked my dead arm like a chicken and walked down the slope. Yes. Walked. Then I took a three hour bus ride home to a hospital near my house, so I could get home easier and wouldn't be stuck in the tiny mountain town over night. I know, I'm a pretty staunch character. Viking tough, our family.
I was 17 then, and hadn't touched a board since as my fam moved far away from the mountains and it just never happened. Until last week! Through the fortuitous coincidence that our lovely neighbours own a timeshare in Courchevel (hello, Beckhams), we planned to spend a week in the mountains and see how well our muscle memory worked.
Here is what I learned:
1- Muscle memory is AMAZING. After the first shaky run, something clicked and I was whizzing down the blue slopes with no problem. Crazy how you just remember.
2- A nearly 34 year-old body does not bounce like a 17 year-old one does. I was fine all day, then on the run just before we decided to pop down to the lodge for a hot drink- it happened. I was slowing down, to come around a blind trail curve and AGAIN just caught a weird edge and fell back onto my butt. Nothing dramatic, not at high speed. But GOD IN HEAVEN did it send an electric jolt up my entire spine as it rocked my tailbone. Oooooof. I tenderly got up, surfed down the mountain, and sat gently with a coffee. AND THAT WAS IT FOR ME.
OUR FIRST DAY AND I RIPPED MY ANUS A NEW ANUS.
Pff! Pathetic! So, though it was a short trip it was a fun one, and we might go back, depending on the snow levels and the soreness of my bum. As I sit and type this, all seems well, but I sat down to play with Colin the other day and it was pretty uncomfy. Are you awkward while I talk about my butt? Are you? HA, welcome to my life. It's gonna mention butts a lot. And dicks. As you probably already know, if you know me. LADYLIKE!
We spent the next day exploring the TINY town, took a few photos, and then hopped on the train back to Paris. It was a quick break, but I'm itching to go again- it was so fun! I was laughing like a schoolgirl as I coasted down the slopes, and being in the fresh air of Les Alpes was glorious. Loved it. Apart from the possible fracture of my ass. Obvs.