Skiing was of course fun.
Still a bit knackered to be bothered to write about it. I guess it was akin to putting an engine in a boat in the exhaustion stakes.
Not. Skiing at 43 was far more exhausting.
I've wound up feeling like I have the muscles of a 3500 year old Egyptian mummy.
I'll post some pics on the morrow.
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| My student. I named a hill after her. |
3 comments:
That's not the skiing. That's your atrophied muscles (except for the legs used to push the bike to the school and back) attempting to ski.
I feel like my legs get a really good workout every day - there are some hills involved - but obviously knot, which is how they felt, knotted.
I still managed to fly down the slopes, it was just a bit painful now and then, and I had to stop to 'stretch'.
Well, we *are* getting closer in age, Perkins.
Here: I will attempt to save you future pain. As you get older, it's not that you lose your strength or flexibility (although it will gradually go a bit), but that you do not recover as rapidly from injury.
So, a mild sprain or muscle tear you could apply liquor and a long sleep to in your 20s requires three weeks of physio and maybe a cortisone shot in your 40s. "Warming up" becomes first necessary and then essential. If I don't stretch, something breaks, or certainly creaks ominiously.
So get with the yoga or basic warm-up, meaning stretching kinetically until you break a sweat. Then you can throw yourself down hills at speed knowing you won't walk like Benny Hill's sidekick the next day.
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