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My daughter and her boyfriend come up one afternoon to assist my progress. Kalie is a devout snowboarder who has only been on skis a couple times. Mark is a ski racing coach and had recently certified as a snowboard instructor (I think daughter had a bit of influence in that). We rent skis for Kalie and hit slopes. I made her “balance glass”, “get down lower”, “create a wider stance” and “get those hands up”. She willingly co-operates. Mark’s job is to criticize my teaching techniques and NOT adjust anything Kalie was doing. Previously, he had tried to teach her how to ski. That event had ended with Kalie plunking herself down in middle of run and refusing to move any farther – I am trying to avoid a repeat scenario. By end of afternoon, we are making our way down blue runs - incredibly slowly - but with style and grace of a beginner skier. What success!
Day 3 – There is a couple inches of powder in morning. We are at hill early again to get those extra runs in. I ski with Matt; he’s a twin tip free style skier whom I thoroughly enjoy skiing with. He pushes me hard, makes me take jumps and try tricks that I’d normally bail on. We decide to do one free run and then get serious and practice stuff we’re trying desperately to perfect. On our first run, we’re making fresh tracks, carving hard, flying down hill. I glance over my shoulder and Matt is on my tail, completing figure eights … BACKWARDS … as fast as I’m going forwards. It’s a beautiful thing! We skip serious runs and continue carving. I’m elated, it’s such a good feeling … I can do this and I will survive!
The morning class goes not bad (not yet a happy place, but not bad). Just before lunch, I do an extra run with Patrick and a few others to see how we are progressing. Egad! You want me to get rid of what? How can that be? It’s never been mentioned before (maybe there were too many other things that needed work and this was left behind - literally). Yet another flaw in my stance - obviously one I’d worked on too hard and result was … I now skied with an extremely exaggerated pose. A pose that I needed to get rid of by tomorrow! This will not make me cry (although it is definitely a prime opportunity to switch from goggles to mirrored shades, focus on focusing, and work rapid eye movements). Is there no end to this adapting/adjusting?
During day three, we also have to demonstrate teaching a lesson (applying all skills we’d learned). I’ve been working on my lesson plan all week; I’ve practiced and rehearsed it, tested it out, even brought treats to entice pretend students. However, section of hill I am assigned to use today is nearly flat – we’re talking gaining minimal speed if you pushed really hard on your poles. Obviously, skills I'd previously selected and practiced are not going to work, and here I am, stumped in front of group (brain scrambled and trying desperately to reconfigure prior to meltdown). The day feels like an emotional roller coaster.
By evening, I convince myself that I will phone Patrick in morning to tell him I‘m not coming. I'd completely maxed out on frustration, hated thought of having to work at skiing (let alone ever teach anyone to ski), and just am not confident that I’ll succeed. My supportive family members tell me to suck it up, get up there! They're always behind me, totally encouraging and emphatic to my needs – NOT!!!
Day 4 – Today I bring tunes with me. The whole group does some free runs together. One of tests on final day, is ski off. The tension for this has been building from beginning of course. The mere mention of ominous “ski off” turned student’s faces tense and frowns would appear. It looms threateningly ahead - just down that next run. I naturally assume my mother hen position at back of pack. I admire guy that goes first – what courage! One person at a time; group watches each skier take their turn. Occasionally we discreetly glance at stern faces of instructors. Definitely no clues from them as to how we have done – they appear focused, converse in hushed voices and scribble notes after each skier. My turn. Prior to ski off, I have mustered up a new attitude - with a bit of a beat. My new outlook dictates that although I am barely comfortable doing what I am doing, it’s too late to change anything else, so I am just going to have fun with it and bee bop down run. Away I go. Now there is one more teaching lesson to work through and course is done, marks are tallied. We wait nervously for report cards to be distributed.
I have this deal with Matt for revealing pass/fail marks when we receive our results. The deal is if I didn’t tell him, he is not allowed to ask in group setting. Reason being, if it is bad it might not be a pretty scene and I’d rather control composure until we were out of sight. I am reluctant to open mine. Some people had already started high fiving and pounding backs. I lean way back, trying to stay out of main flow of activity, take a deep breath, and pull out top corner of paper. There is a Pass grade for skiing, and another Pass for teaching. I check it again just to be certain … they definitely read PASS! WOW, from everything I’ve been through – this is a total shock!! I could feel Matt glancing over and from his grin I could tell he’s happy, but a bit hesitant as to how I’m doing. High Five Matt!! I’m on my way to getting red suit.
Brent Hahn and Patrick Cais ran an excellent course. They were so patient and I know there were numerous times when they would have quite willingly choked me and thrown me over a cliff with my continual “show me”, “what?”, “do that again!,” and my all time favorite, “I don’t understand this!”.
Red ski school suits have been traditional color since 70's. It is a visible color for clients to follow and is easily recognizable on hill. It is CSIA National Ski School color, and majority of ski schools use it. The CSIA is longest running non-profit organization in Canada, over 65 years now. It has a membership of 23,000 and growing.
Loves to ski and has hopes of retiring on the hill. Would love to pass on her passion for the sport and any/all learned techniques that will make the trip down the run a painless experience.