It's been a long time since I held hands with a grown man. At a guess 1973.
Until the weekend, that is, when I took a deep breath, shifted my weight on to my toes and held hands, quite tightly and more than once, with a young, tanned snow board instructor.
Reader, I even gazed into his eyes.
Until he told me: no, even though it was true, he had said to look straight ahead, perhaps I should rather look over his shoulder toward the crest of hill, and was I ready to let go now ?
I was at the artificial ski-slope at Sandown Park for private lesson. He was a lot better on a snowboard than I was, but on the whole I felt I was dressed more cooly: while he sported a bright red junior ski-klub sweatshirt and a baseball hat back to front. I was wearing my ultra-baggy (triathlon weight-loss) snow-boarder-cargo-pants and my sly hat.
Unfortunately, although I was cooler I was also indisputably hotter: it may be a miserable August in England but hopping up a steep slope wearing a hat and gloves and with a 10kg deadweight strapped to your ankle can certainly warm you up. Even when you have ventilated armpit holes.
When I took off my knee-pads, I had sweat patches on my knees.
1 comment:
From the dry slopes of Glos: as a close observer of your skiing technique over the years, I wonder whether this is really a good idea. I have witnessed you going round and round a 300m blue run for hours on end like a mouse trapped in a wheel (Les Gets).
This is not the the sort of carefree spirit us boarders aspire to. Just getting down the mountain is to miss the point. You have gotta have soul and do it in style.
I will be very happy to pass on my "cool tips" at lunch on Saturday.
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