Eating Snow

Things that will not help my lack of motivation to workout: launching off a small cliff while skiing and slamming my full body weight onto my left shoulder.

Hello there whiplash.

I like to pretend that I’m a good skier. Every time I lock into my skis and hit the first few slopes of the day, I immediately start looking for obstacles to challenge myself with; small ramps of snow to go off of, moguls, those hidden trails through the trees.

I’m not that good. I’m reminded of this almost every winter, with a new kind of injury every time.

Andrew is a better skier than me – he demonstrates a little more caution and typically follows a few hundred meters behind me waiting for my ego to get too big and for me to then eat shit snow He comes up from behind, grab my skis that I managed to dismantle, and follows the same series of questions:

- "Are you OK?

- "How did that even happen?"

-"Maybe now you'll calm down a little bit?"

-Laughs, shakes his head, skis away.

(Sigh.)

The shoulder will heel; it already feels a bit better today. Until then, burpees and push-ups will have to wait.

Outside of taking a face full of snow, the weekend was awesome. It dumped snow up in Snowshoe West Virginia the entire weekend we were there; so much so that we had to get Andrew’s car pushed out of the parking spot yesterday on our way out. The weekend was full of fabulous food, (for the most part) great skiing, and really awesome conversation.

Now, it’s Monday. And I have all of these things to look forward to:

love my countdown app 

It’s home to Chicago this weekend for Christmas, and then off to Colorado the following week for New Years. Being gone for 16 days is definitely something I’m pumped for, but not so pumped to pack for. I’m also going to try hard this week to eat the last of what I have in my fridge/freezer, so that nothing goes bad while I’m away.

This should make for some pretty interesting meals. Stay tuned. Hope your 

week is looking fabulous. If it’s not, here’s one last happy countdown for you that hangs in my bedroom:

Cheers –

K