Help! I’m trapped inside and can’t get out. You’re probably thinking I’m referring to all this snow and the cold temperatures we’ve been blessed with this winter. You’re partially right. It’s been a tough winter so far. At least with winter, we know each day is getting longer and the sun will eventually chase the snow and cold weather away for a few months.
Unfortunately, the prison I’m trapped in won’t disappear along with the melting snow. I once heard a statement that inside every old person is a young voice yelling, “What the hell happened!?” That’s pretty much where I found myself this weekend. I suspect I’m not alone in feeling like a younger spirit that’s trapped inside an aging body. I know mine sure doesn’t work the way it once did.
Since I work all week and it’s cold and dark when I get home, the weekends are my time during the winter to spend outside. I had planned to do some snowshoeing at Norskedalen and go cross-country skiing on the groomed trails at the Snowflake Ski Club in Timber Coulee. I was looking forward to it. You younger people are probably thinking, that old bugger shouldn’t be trying to do all that physical stuff. Even Linda worries about me overdoing it.
Maybe they have a point. I hate to admit it, but age is starting to take its toll on my body parts. I started having left knee pain Friday afternoon. Actually, I shouldn’t complain. The left knee pain helps offset the pain I have in my right hip. But it’s kinda’ tough. Now I don’t know which side to limp on. At times I look like I’m doing the Tim Conway shuffle. That comes in handy when everything is snow-covered and icy. But it makes me look like an old man shuffling along as I’m walking. “You are an old man,” a second voice from within reminds me.
The recent snow and slippery streets may have contributed to some of my aches and pains. I slipped on a patch of ice hidden under new snow and performed some moves that would have made Dancing With the Stars contestants envious. I managed to stay on my feet, but it may have been easier on my body to just fall. However, as those of you who have a few years behind you know, we don’t bounce as good as we once did.
Is it any wonder that the retired crowd makes a mass exit and heads south for the winter? While they’re sitting on the beach in the sun and sipping Mint Juleps, I’m still working here in the Frozen Tundra and wondering why I’m not down there with them.
Those were my thoughts on Saturday as I felt trapped in my house and this aging body with a sore knee and hip, not to mention several other aches and pains.
But that was yesterday, this is Sunday. It’s a new day and the first day of the rest of my life. This morning I couldn’t take it any longer and decided I had to escape. Five degrees above zero, a very cold wind, out of shape with a tender knee and hip… no problem. It was time to cross country ski. I rounded up my clothes and equipment and headed for Timber Coulee and the new cross-country trails in the shadow of the huge Snowflake ski jump. This was the first time I’ve been skiing in two years. This is a guy who used to ski 40 miles every week during the winter.
As soon as I stepped into my bindings and glided down the well-groomed trail, I felt like I’d died and gone to Heaven. I didn’t set any speed records. I don’t have the stamina I had when I was younger. As I skied around the trails, the young guy trapped in my body wanted me to speed up and see how fast we could go. The old guy, who also resides inside me, pushed the young guy aside and said, “Whoa now Sherpe, pace yourself, this isn’t a race. Don’t kill yourself, you’re sucking wind already.” Having gained both weight and a little common sense with age, I decided to listen to the older voice, even though I wanted the younger one to kick butt and break free.
Two other skiers were on the trails. I watched with envy as they flew across the snow like well-oiled machines. The young voice inside me said, “We used to ski like that. Lets kick in the afterburners.” Then the old voice spoke up again. “Those guys were probably in diapers when we used to race in these hills. You’re old enough to be their father. Just be glad you’re still physically able to be out here skiing on a beautiful morning and having fun.”
I had to admit, the old guy had a point. Even though it was cold, the sun was shining, and the snow on the trails was in perfect condition. My warm breath turned into clouds and filled my mustache with icicles as I glided through a beautiful, silent, snow-covered landscape of hills, trees, and water rippling under bridges that I crossed. The young guy and old guy within me were both happy. All aches and pains were left behind and life was good. It was very good.
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