Much Better; Thank You

I'm back and I'm feeling much better; thank you very much.

I love this time of year. Wind, rain, snow in the mountains, it can only mean one thing; ski season is around the corner.

For years I have skied with a handicap: me. It's hard to tear up the mountain when it takes most of your strength to buckle your boots. Any reserves are used up getting to the chairlift. Muscle memory takes over for a couple of runs and then the body revolts into a quivering mass that dooms any further activity for three to five days. But it's oh so glorious for a run or two.

Not this year. This year I run with the big dogs. Not in the crazy I think I'm twenty-one watch me do this sense; I'm not stupid. I'm not! This year I'm going to ski any slope that calls my name and the day's not over before lunch. This year I'm going to enjoy the experience, not just survive it. And yes, there may be a few stupid watch this moments, but oh is it going to be a glorious time.

This weekend Michelle made me buy a new jacket. In the same way she grew weary of seeing me in saggy-bottom jeans, my old triple XL coat wore out it's welcome. I have a long history of hating clothes shopping. It isn't easy getting me into the men's department, but it's getting easier. In the past I have shopped for what fits. Now I get to shop for what I want. Once I found out I was in a men's large - no X's attached - suddenly the experience was a whole lot more tollerable.

I have a new jacket. Michelle's happy. I'm happy. It's a nearly perfect world.