The helmet decision

(The big box in the goggles is the reflection of the computer screen and I am too lazy to take a picture with my camera!)

Anyway.  This morning I went skiing for the first day of the year with Maddie, who had already gone two days in a row.  Anyone who skis knows that the first day can be brutal.  Everything feels wrong, your boots hurt, your clothes feel confining and there is pain involved on all fronts.

I expected this, and the first run did not disappoint.  My legs were screaming, my feet were aching and felt as though someone was driving small nails through them and I couldn't adjust my hat/neck warmer and goggles properly so that I wasn't getting cold air on exposed skin.  In a nutshell, the first run pretty much sucked despite the amazing snow conditions.

Maddie kept telling me that I had to unbuckle my boots.  But no.  I have been skiing for ::::cough cough:::: forty something years :::::::good lord:::::::: and if I know anything it's that once you buckle the boots, you don't go up or down playing with adjustments because it won't work.  Can ruin your whole day.  So I gutted through it.

By the third run things were clicking into place.  I started to realize that we had the WHOLE trail to ourselves, the whole darned corduroy trail with patches of blue sky and the unfrozen lake in our view.  Hello!  Heaven on earth.  And my feet had gone from crazy painful to a moderate ache.  And for some reason my legs weren't burning any more.  I, well, I felt good!  And I was going for it, keeping up with Maddie with no problem.  She was a little ahead of me and I saw her go to the far edge to do a tight turn, and I realized that there was very little between the woods and the trail -- maybe five inches of snow.  Not much of a buffer.   As I reached the spot I peered into the woods and shuddered a bit ... wouldn't want to lose control now -- and fly into the woods towards a sure death.

The helmet discussion has come up before, as year after year passes and everyone we know has succumbed to the brain buckets.  For me, it has always been a question of freedom.   I don't want to wear something on my head that is going to confine me -- feel heavy and cumbersome and cramp my style.  So I've always just insisted I would never wear a helmet, live free or die.

But today the die part kept popping into my head a little more than the live part!  I was flying.  This has definitely niggled in the back of my head in years past, as I've been flying down a trail and caught an edge, and corrected it.  And then thought, wow, that would have been bad.  I don't have to ski fast, and there are times when I slow way down and don't even think about it.  But today, I was skiing with a racer, and they ski fast.

And it feels good.

And this was my first day.  

If my legs can stand some pretty strenuous runs the first time out, it's pretty unlikely that I will slow down in the days, weeks and months to come.  It is ski season.

And I ski.

A lot.

So Peter and I had some errands to run and I told him I wanted to check out helmets.  He was shocked.  He kept pointing out how adamant I have been against them for the past however many years, and I said yes, I understand, but people can change their minds.

And they aren't heavy at all.  In fact, I think it weighs as much as my hat does!  I put the first one on that caught my fancy (pink of course!) and it fit snugly, warmly, and well, it felt right.  I turned to Peter and he laughed.  I asked him, does it look that bad?

He said no, but it's just weird to see you in a helmet.  

Well, for heaven's sake, get over it.  My mind was made up.  I tried a few others on, but this helmet and I had already bonded.  

Peter still couldn't believe it.  He thought we were just LOOKING at helmets.  Well, maybe we were, but I'd found one that felt good, why wait?  So then we had to find him a helmet as well.  Because he claimed that he has always known that it was safer to use helmets.  (He just wanted to be unsafe with me I guess!)

So there you have it.  It wasn't much of a decision at all.  It was just time.  And in the spring, when the sun is shining, I will most definitely NOT wear a helmet and fly down the trails with my hair trailing behind me.  Because THAT is the true definition of freedom.

But the snow is always mushy and you go way slower and it's more like plowing than flying!  And your legs are in shape.

And did I mention it was pink?