Swiss Alps | The Life of All Sorts

December 28, 2017

I feel so much delight and gratitude for being invited to spend the winter holidays with my boyfriend’s lovely family in Switzerland! The last time we were all together was in Mauritius, off the coast of Africa. Our trip to Mauritius was so intensely packed with new and beautiful experiences that it has taken me months to process all the exciting impressions. More on that another time!

Now, though, I am nestled in a cozy town called Andermatt: Altitude 1400 meters, population 1500, with at least 40 cm of snow and countless skiers and snowboarders everywhere you turn. It is impossible to take a bad picture here; the surroundings are perfectly picturesque and quintessentially Swiss.

Yesterday I tried cross-country skiing for the first time! And today I tried it for the second time! My main impression? SKIS ARE AWKWARD. I’ve never really skied before (shocker! It’s true! I’m a bad Canadian!), neither cross-country nor downhill. Last time I was in Andermatt, about three and a half years ago, I tried snow-shoeing for the first time. That was a nice entry point for acclimatization attaching equipment to my limbs and moving through snow.

As far as skiing goes, it made sense for me to begin with cross-country; I have a fear of sliding down steep slopes and never stopping until I reach the bottom of the mountain stuck in the center of a giant snowball, with only my arms and legs sticking out on the sides. Irrational, you say? Indeed, I have been told I’ve watched too many cartoons.

Yesterday felt super awkward. I had some trouble keeping my feet parallel (ballet problems) and I fell over a few times. Luckily, my private ski instructor was patient, supportive, and even handsome… and he worked for free! (Because he is my boyfriend). I was exhausted by the end of our short session because I was clenching every muscle in my body, trying not to wobble off my skis.

Surprisingly, I wasn’t so bad. I was certainly not good at it, and I cannot overemphasize the word ‘awkward.’ But I felt that hidden beneath my flailing limbs was a potential for an almost meditative movement. Plus, it’s a cool way to see the beautiful wintery side of nature.

Half an hour later, I was sweaty, weak, already sore, but ecstatic: I survived! My prize was a steaming hot chocolate and silky smooth chocolate mousse at the Chedi Clubhouse restaurant nearby.

Today I was ready for Round 2. I already felt less awkward! I had a few moments where I got in the zone, nailing the coordination of digging my poles into the ground, leaning forward on my front ski, kicking off with my back ski, gliding shakily for as long as possible. The snow on today’s trail was better packed, which made it easier to move forward. I was getting into the rhythm, building my confidence.

Then, somehow, without me realizing it, I found myself skiing off the trail, following my boyfriend’s family. They forged a new path between the trees and along the river, where the snow was deep and untouched. It took over 10 minutes before I realized that this was not a temporary shortcut to get back to the pre-made trail; rather, this was the intentional exciting new adventure!

It was a beautiful disaster. The snow was deep, and I was clumsy. I battled with the additional appendages on my arms and legs, moving forward on sheer determination. Somewhere along the line I stopped trying to glide and simply shambled forward with little steps. Soon after that I stopped using my poles and just dragged them behind me, because my arms were tired and the poles kept getting stuck in the deep snow alongside.

Then we got to a teensy little hill which proved to be my undoing. As I slid backwards, I somehow fell over, and the harder I tried to stand up, the deeper I got buried in the snow. It was like quicksand! The situation called for either hysterical laughter or tears– so I had a laugh attack for the several minutes it took to extricate myself. The following hills were equally unsuccessful. I ended up being dragged up the hill by my boyfriend and his dad, who proffered their ski poles as a lifeline for me to cling to.

Now that I’m dry and warm and rested, I can see how the off-trail stuff can be fun! In the few seconds where my intense concentration broke, I caught glimpses of glistening tree-tops and the flawless white blanket of snow. I think the key factor for me to truly enjoy off-trail cross-country skiing will be actually being able to ski. Two good things that came from that challenge: 1) Now I have a goal to aspire to and 2) When we got back to skiing on the trail, it felt so much easier by comparison!

December 29, 2017

Day 3 of my cross-country skiing endeavour! I think this may be the start of a new hobby– strange for me, since I’ve never been a big fan of spending time in the snow (I’m more of a snuggled-up-with-a-cup-of-tea-and-book-on-the-couch kind of winter person). Every day I feel motivated to get better at cross-country skiing, and I keep going back for more!

Today the conditions were ideal, and they set me up for success, or at least something like it. It stopped snowing so a pair of official tracks were plowed on the trail, which was a great help to keeping my skis parallel. The sun was shining, the snow was sparkling, and I felt ready to go!

I haven’t been severely sore yet, but I can definitely feel that I’m activating some latent muscles. Indoors I’ve taken to clinging to stair rails, because sooner or later my legs will give out on the stairs. Interestingly, it’s my entire body that feels heavy, rather than one particular muscle– cross-country skiing really is a full-body workout.

Getting started, it felt more familiar to put on my skis and loop my hands onto the ski poles. But when I got moving, I had a gut feeling that I was doing something wrong. I was working so hard to kick-glide and coordinate my arms, yet I was barely moving at a snail’s pace.

Then, I had a double epiphany! I can thank my boyfriend and his sister for helping me with these breakthroughs:

#1: I was doing the “kick” in the wrong direction! I was trying to kick up my back leg, using it as a sort of pushing point to move forward. Turns out it was supposed to be more of a leap/step/lunge onto the front leg, which was apparently the “kick.” As a dancer, I would argue that the word “kick” is a bit of a misnomer. If I’m shifting my weight forward and stepping onto the front leg, wouldn’t that rather classify as a leap? A step? A lunge? A stomp? “Kick” was very misleading! Terminology aside, this small change in where I placed my weight made a great improvement.

#2: I was angling my ski poles the wrong way! Turns out the 90 degree angle of my poles was why I felt so ridiculous using them. I got much more leverage when I angled the poles to point more backwards. Zoom! I’ve increased my speed from snail to sloth!

I’m still crying out a shaky “aaaahhhh” as I slowly slide down the slightest slope, stiff as a board for fear of falling. And despite getting up the rhythm and managing to glide continuously today, I’m still lacking coordination and strength… and technique… I’ll work on that!