I'll have you know that I was cured…
…for 12 whole years
I'd put that particular addiction behind me.
My god it hurt for the first three years – friends and colleagues off skiing and me staying at home…. crawling up the walls every winter
STUFF your summer holidays
BUT, I was cured in the end – forgot all about it, I did.
.
.
.
Until Mrs rkk01 suggested we take the kids skiing in 2008.
I was deeply sceptical, all new kit, fat skis and all, could I still do it, doubt, doubt, doubt…. and at the back of my mind – didn't want to start doing that white stuff again.
ONE TURN, that's all it took – one bloody turn, the exhillaration of letting the skis accellerate into the fall line for that first turn.
Mountain biking was my cure – the sop, the pseudo ski experience that I could sup on all year without going for the real thing, the same balance, the same attacking stance, getting on the ski or tyre edges, carving the turn, feeling the acceleration, the adrenaline, coursing through your veins, the concentration…
… but not the real thing…
not really