Skate Skiing and the Art of Falling Over

There are some things that I'm just not that good at (yet). I assume if I try a walking handstand right now, I'll probably end up with a concussion, for example. I think I can add skate skiing to the list. Lori is quite good at it. Compared to me, she's an olympian.

The problem with living in Minnesota is that for a few months of the year, my usual outdoor activities, running and biking, become much harder to do. They are at best, less enjoyable and at worse, downright unsafe. The benefit to living in Minnesota is that a host of winter activities become available. There's skiing in all it's forms: downhill, cross country, and skate. There's snowboarding. There's snowshoeing. Unfortunately, all of these involve awkwardly strapping something long onto your feet. If you're an adult who didn't grow up with these things, good luck, you will look dumb. You will fall over.



Photo courtesy of roland.

So two weekends ago, on a decent enough Saturday we took lessons. Lori is experienced at traditional cross country skiing, which appears to have been a huge help. I am not. Skis had been strapped to my feet twice before this experiment. I went downhill skiing once when I was 13 (yeah, that's 18 years ago), and last February I attempted traditional cross country skiing. The lessons all seemed to make sense, until I tried to apply what I had been told. The instructor told me I looked like I was trying to run, not ski (or glide, or however you want to describe the motion). Was I a runner? I was once, I wanted to reply.

The problem with "running" in ski's is that they're long. You can really think of skate skis like really big roller blades, sans wheels. Think of how you roller blade, or "inline skate", if you're not into trademark infringement. You push off with onc blade, pick up, put it down, repeat on the other side (more or less). Skate skiing seems to be very similar with two big exceptions. This first is that you can't push off, and shouldn't try. It will throw off your balance. You will fall over. Of course, if you've been spending your life participating in sports that aren't on snow, you will push off. You will fall over. The other big difference is the length of the ski over that of a skate. If you push off at all, you push your toe down instinctively. This is what my instructor called running on skis. This is a problem when the ski extends several feet out in front of you. I constantly dug the front of the ski into the snow, which at best slowed me down. At worst? Good guess: I feel over.

Last Saturday we went out again, this time to do a loop around the lake. That's the "flat" trail. I don't want to see the hilly trail. I managed to stay upright going downhill, but managed to fall over twice going uphill. I've never felt so uncoordinated in my life. Perhaps the worst part is constantly watching people --people whom I feel I should be in better shape than -- fly by me with no noticeable effort.

But it was a good workout. And it was fun. I expect it will get more fun as I start to get it down. The goals of the day were to get a workout and to find a way to embrace winter and not just tolerate it.