Over this past year, I've had 4 concussions. The most recent was from skiing street early season, when I felt like I absolutely had to be out, stacking clips, doing something new. Today I got back on snow for the first time in a month, skiing with a friend of mine from school who I'd never actually been out with. Going into it, I was pretty stressed out since I made some hard rules going in, like no rails or spins, under any circumstance, which seemed to take away a lot of the reasons i though i loved skiing; progression, pushing limits, those sort of things. We arrived to -25, and not a lift line in sight. spent the whole morning laying carves in the soft stuff, running little ankle turns all along the green runs, and trying to stay upright on park skis over the iciest bits of an east coast mountain that still doesnt have enough snow for the glades to be open. chatting on the lift, complaining about roomates, acknowledging that everyone we know has or is about to have covid, realizing that we know one of the lifties from class this fall. It was a balmy -13 by the time we left, and this season is gonna be great, even if i don't push my limits once.
Shoutout to Drew, who roasted the fuck out of me for being on NS in class all the time this fall. It was good skiing with you today
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