I had an absolutley awful week at work, on which I cannot elaborate any further at this point but thought I should throw it out there so you can truly get a feel for the cloud of dejection and misery hanging around me Saturday morning.
Mr. Husband has gone to Utah…skiing…with his friends.
Which I actually totally support. He doesn’t go away much or hang with his friends often. This is an annual trip and I am all in favour.
However the before and after are a bit troubling:
The boys decided to go Monday to Friday because their kids are all involved in programs on the weekends and it is more difficult for the wives to be alone then and facilitate all the travel, car pools, skate tying, ski boot finding, etc. I was not actually asked my preference (because who could ever enjoy a weekend alone?) , rather told this was the consensus.
But…they had to fly Sunday night…meaning they had to leave Sunday around 2…meaning Mr. Husband needed to leave our ski weekend early on Sunday
But…he had a lot of work he had to do before he could go…so really he should stay in the city Friday night and get caught up.
Then…if he was staying home Friday and coming home early Sunday, he may as well just go to the office for the day Saturday and get as far ahead as possible.
But…he left all his ski stuff up north, so if I was going anyway…on this rainy drab snowless weekend, could I pack it all up and bring it home.
And…of course their flight gets in late Friday night, so I will have to move the troops up Friday after school on my own and he will join us sometime Saturday.
And to tell the truth, all of this didn’t bother me so much, more the way it dribbles out and I have to wait all week for the changes to be unfold, but it adds to the fact that I was already off balance when I arrived late Saturday morning for my ski lessons at which I am the worst skier and apparently not very interesting to talk to for the other women in my group.
Thus a long winded tale to the Humbling Experience:
I am taking learn to race lessons at our ski club. I am not actually interested in racing, but thought it would help improve my confidence and style. I am not a bad skiier. I consider myself a very high intermediate and there is not a hill in Collingwood that I cannot get down in a confident manner. (I know this doesn’t mean much to you Westerners!)
But Saturday’s conditions were abysmal.
The snow was very heavy and inconsistent. There was ice between the heavy piles and the light, were it wasn’t foggy was flat. Normally, I would have gone in, read a book and enjoyed a hot chocolate. I am 41 and have a family that relies on my not being on crutches!!
It was the hardest two hours of skiing I have ever had. My coach, Carrie, was fantastic and very supportive. She kept reminding us how bad the conditions were and how good it was for us to be out of our comfort zones.
Her comfort zone advice kept me alive.
I sucked getting down the hill. When I get nervous I talk more and say stupid things…so some of that was going on… whcih made me feel stupid on each chair ride. I kept hoping I’d be so slow they’d go up without me.
But I was reminded of a great and invaluable lesson. It’s good to be humbled. It’s good to be thrown out of our comfort zones. I had no time to think about anything but my skis and the hill on the way down. And rather than pity myself on the way up… I thought about my kids and step-kids and all the ways we just expect them to move into uncomfortable situations and get used to it, or get over it. I thought of some of my students struggling to grasp concepts I find so simple that I sometimes get exasperated. I am sure they would have had no trouble getting through Saturday’s snow.
At first I was going to call this A Humiliating Experience. Because that is how I felt most of the morning inching my way down the hill. But I wasn’t humiliated. I did it. I finished the lesson. I learned a few things about skiing and life that I’m sure I needed to learn, or a least be reminded.
I am not humiliated, I am humbled and that is not always a bad thing.