Monday, February 3

Be kind to me I’m suffering. I am as stiff as an ironing board, have developed a waddle like a penguin carrying and my arms are stuck in a position that would probably be very useful if I wanted to carry piglets about. Why you ask. That’s a good question that I am beginning to ask myself. The answer would be that I finally got the chance to try out my skis for the first time yesterday.

It went quite well for a first time but it’s nowhere near as easy as it looks. My main worry was reaching the tracks strapping on the skis and then not being able to move. I mean I might have moved my legs backwards and forwards but would I end up doing the skiing equivalent of running on the spot? But nothing ventured nothing gained right? Left, right, left, right hurray I was moving. Maybe it didn’t look so good, forget Bambi on ice, try Dumbo instead, but I was moving.

Now for the arms. When the right ski goes forward the left hand and pole are meant to go forward at the same time. Well that’s easy isn’t it? Phhhhf like hell it is. My arms and legs must have had an argument or something as they clearly were not on speaking terms. They would start out together but refused to work at the same tempo, meaning it was harder to keep myself balanced.

So did I fall over? Once or twice maybe….ohh all right then I created snow angels five times. The first time was on my first downhill section. All was going great until I realised that I didn’t know how to stop. Not that I have been downhill skiing but I know there you would make a snowplough shape with your skis to reduce your speed. But I couldn’t do that on a cross-country track could I, it would cause havoc with the cross-country groves and I don’t want to upset the natives. I have seen cross-country skiing on the TV; they sometimes carry riffles and have to shoot at targets. I don’t want to become a target for an irate Swede. Again I need not have worried the problem solved its self; I began to think about it too much and promptly fell over.

What’s more embarrassing do you think, falling over in the first place or trying to get up again afterwards. Have you played the game pick-up-sticks? You know the game where you have to pick up a wooden stick from a pile without disturbing any of the others. Getting up with skis on is just like that, expect you have the random factor of a slippery surface to make it more interesting. A little pointer, you can’t pick one ski up if you are standing on it with the other.

Towards the end, when I retraced by route I was starting to get the hang of it. My legs and arms had stopped their feud and were showing signs of working together. There were times I believed I could actually do this. A viewpoint that I maintained with a technique of looking in the other direction whenever I passed a dent I had made in the snow on the outward trip. So if you go cross-country skiing in Sweden, be afraid, be very afraid, you might just come across me….

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