barre thank you note
Three of my besties and I went skiing in Utah last week. Conditions were amazing . . . you know – light powdery groomed w i d e o p e n trails like corduroy, clear skies, temps in the 30’s. However the last day was a different tune – icy pellets of snow sandblasting my face, my clothes looked like someone poured a slushie on them and white out conditions on top of the mountain. As I skied down a run called Georgianne it suddenly split in two and I figured either way was cool. Choosing the trail to the right landed me up in the tree line. (note: my dear pal Shree was cruising down behind at her own pace and we got split up). Here I am innocently lost in the woods on a deeply angled narrow path, no signs, no ski trail marks . . . wtf. Cursing, heart pounding sweating profusely and praying to the ski Gods “please get me outta here unbroken” as I engage my quads to stick together and rotate side to side in a tight space. Finally see an opening down a steep hill leading to the trail and point the ski tips down, engage ‘da core and arrive safely. I lost all track of time, was it 10 minutes or 30? All I know is that my quads and gluts would have turned to consomme without BARRE! 