But I have made it harder on myself:
If only it was necessary to be able to fire an Ashe arrow across the board to hit an opponent in order to make my Quadrathlon goal, I'd be set. THAT I have been practicing until the wee hours of the morning. Very very wee hours.
I have however, given up some sleep in order to go to the ski hill and practice. Sunday's downhill adventure with KC was fantastic, enjoyable, beautiful. My confidence was at an all time high. There was no falling, only one slightly out-of-control, this-might-be-a-trainwreck moment that resolved itself. the whole experience was so good, that I thought a couple more runs would really set me up for a better than terrible race ski.
So, this morning, I head back to the ski area. It's closed Tues, so no worry about crowds, which, that's a good thing, right?
Except, then they don't groom the trails early either.
Because of the warm sunny weather, the runs were a slick, crusty, bumpy mess. But did I leave with my tail between my legs? NO. I went up. I came down. It was not a boost to my confidence. I fell.
Better go back tomorrow to see if I can find any sang-froid.
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