huff and puff and blow this house down

i'm somewhat amazed and completely honored to have yet another year here in snowbird, utah. two years ago i wasn't sure i'd make it back. now, i've made it back twice. the house is warm and snug, as always. the views are breathtaking. the snow, ordered specially for us, has been light, fluffy, and abundant.

i've noticed a significant change in my own ability to thrive at altitude. i've never been one to have an issue with altitude. i never really lost my breath, had problems sleeping, or succumbed to terrible headaches. but here, this year, i find myself completely out of breath doing just about anything at all. our room is at the top of about twenty stairs. it is a serious workout to bring myself to the top of them. in order to leave the condo i have to climb about twenty more stairs, skis in hand. rotten's been nice enough to carry my skis to the top of the run that leaves near our condo - about a 1/4 mile walk including two small hills. i move slowly. there's really no other option.

a simple run down to the tram dock leaves me breathless, and not in a good way. i finally catch my breath, buy a lift ticket, and then it is time to hike over to the lift to start the day. i'm already completely winded. i'm counting the short run to the tram dock as the first run of the day. i stop after every ten or fifteen turns, if i am lucky. my lungs, not my legs, are burning. when i used to ski with the crew back before this all happened, my legs would fail long before my lungs. now, i don't even give them a chance. my legs, after three days of skiing, are still fresh, for the most part.

i was frustrated by this for most of the first two days of my trip. today i adopted a different attitude, just trying to be happy with the world around me. snow fell for most of the day. the view changed almost continually, as the clouds drifted up through the valley, the mountains would come in and out of sight. i successfully guided myself and a friend down a run in mineral basin in practically zero visibility. we came to a small rise in the trail and we had to hike a tiny bit. i stopped to catch my breath halfway through, and i smelled the pine trees we had stopped next to. it was the highlight of my day - knowing the mountain, smelling the trees, and enjoying the beautiful run down the hill.

more than anything, i am very happy i never put things on hold as i lived through my twenties. i went on trips to new places with good friends. i've seen old cities, big ski mountains, huge oceans, and small places only reachable by foot or ski. i have incredible memories from all of these experiences, and they remind me i've done well in following edward abbey's words - "one final paragraph of advice - do not burn yourselves out. be as i am - a reluctant enthusiast, a part time crusader, a half hearted fanatic. save the other half of yourselves and your lives for pleasure and adventure". indeed.

Comments

Leah said…
Liz, your words are very powerful-thank you! My mom asked about you tonite, I said you are well. I hope the ski trip is the best.
Hugs and Kisses!
Leah
Lizzy, Great blog! I'd like to add you to my cancer blogroll at Being Cancer Network. I can't quite make out what your cancer is/was. www.beingcancer.net
Take care, Dennis
Anonymous said…
Liz, I can smell the fir trees here at my desk, just reading your blog! Glad you had a good ski trip. Love ya, Aunt Kathy D.
Unknown said…
Love the Abbey quote. So perfect. xo

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