Dobbiaco

The theme for the penultimate day is “Weary”. Everyone is feeling the slow chipping away strain of unaccustomed day on day exercise and it’s a lackluster start on the bus up the valley to where Andy the guide takes advantage of a wide expanse of snow to let us brush up on our double-gating technique. Our hands are too high, or too low, they don’t come back far enough, we stand too tall and move like stiff soldiers, so we pole up and down trying to do it right, creaking.

The third day of going skiing by mistake starts with some panic stretching, just so I can make it down the stairs for breakfast. Most everything hurts from unfamiliar movement, unfamiliar use and unfamiliar hitting the ground - calves, back, shoulders, arms, and especially those bits that join the insides of your thighs to the top half of your body. Those feel tight enough to snap if I cough.

I appear to be skiing. I hate skiing.