We hosed our flights back Monday, and wound up with 7:30 p.m. rather than a 7:30 a.m. departure. It looked nigh impossible to fly standby earlier in the day, so we took off to Mount Hood to go skiing. It was absolutely fantabulous-- clear and sunny, with dry roads and not much in the way of crowds. I decided to take it very very easy and stayed on the easiest slope, but I also managed to not fall on my ass even once the entire day.
Today my shoulders and arms are sore from the rope tow.
Four weeks ago I started a four-week beginning ballet class. At the beginning, the instructor sat us down and asked what we wanted to get out of it and what we were afraid of. "I'm not afraid of anything, really. That much hubris means I'll probably break my leg or something."
I didn't. Not even a little or-something. I have quite a bit of muscle memory even though it's been over a quarter century since I danced and I've gained about twenty three thousand pounds since then. I won't say I looked great, but I had really surprising amounts of control when I was doing barre exercises, and I could mostly glue combo steps together and learn them quickly.