Letting loose on Wiwaxy

I am back from skiing again. I was at Lake Louise, one of my favourite places in the world. This week's trip to Lake Louise was for a convention of ski instructors. Only one run was open but, in addition to about 130 instructors, there were equally keen snowboard professionals, skiers and boarders. The run can get crowded, especially in corners and as we pass one another. We make fast laps on the run; hence it's nickname "Wiwaxy 500". I've gone to the convention twice previously. Both times, most of the mountain was open so this was the first year that I experienced the Wiwaxy 500.

I'd been told that you don't really notice that you are only on one run for three days because you are concentrating on your class. This is true but I am hanging every "Let it Snow" banner that I have. I really just want to let loose and ski ungroomed soft snow up to my ankles or knees. This will happen. It is just a matter of when.

What was fun for me on the Wiwaxy 500 was that I did let loose. The first day of convention I was taking a class on ski improvement. The Level 4 instructor is someone who has seen me ski over the years and has talked to me on lifts and so knows some of my foibles. At the end of class, I asked him for some advice on which other sessions I should take at convention. His advice matched my intuition. I am full up with technical advice and just need to ski.

So, the next day, I took a race coaching clinic. The head coach did not give me or others any technical advice. The intent was to discover on our own when we felt fast, when we felt balanced, when we felt on edge and how those feelings interrelated. We skied with our boot buckles undone. We skied runs deliberately looking ahead, at the other skiers, at the trees on the periphery and at the glorious mountain views ahead.

That night I received an e-mail reminding me to breathe in the scent of evergreens, look at the views across the valley to the lake, and enjoy meeting new people. I had looked at the views but had not yet inhaled the scent of the trees. It was a gentle reminder to look beyond skiing and to look at life. So I did and the next day was even more fun.

One of the reasons that the next day was fun is that I chose a session which again did not focus on classical ski improvement. It focused on outcomes. The Level 4 asked us each to identify the biggest strength and weakness in our skiing. I answered that my weakness is my head, meaning that I over-think, and that my strength is the joy I feel when I ski. Over-thinking sometimes inhibits me from feeling the joy and freedom. Another skier answered that his strength is that he just skis and his weakness is that he does not think of technique. I looked at him and said, "Put us together and we have the perfect combo". The Level 4 said "That's just what I'm going to do" and challenged us to observe each other's skiing and develop a plan to build on the strengths while addressing the weakness. The desired outcome: Better Skiing.

My partner's tactic for me - just follow him as he skied fast with varying turn shapes. My tactic for him - just feel the pressure under his boot. We both surprised each other and we both had fun. Part of the fun of being partnered was that we are so different. I am a woman, middle-aged, and a traditional ski instructor who loves to ski but thinks too much. He is a young man who coaches park and aerials, who loves to ski and, according to him, doesn't think too often of technique. Despite these differences we helped each other ski better and found mutual respect. Not bad for two "race car drivers" on the Wiwaxy 500.

That loosened me but there was more in store. The Level 4 soon had us pretending to karate chop and move like a sumo wrestler. Next we skied with our arms in motion, almost like we were swimming through the mountain air. Untraditional ski improvement, but motion and movement were enhanced. I stopped thinking and just did it. What a feeling!...and that's what it was - a feeling. Yeah! Having felt it, I can feel it again and I look forward to letting loose the next time I ski.