I went cross country skiiing today for the first time since the 80s and it was awesome. You know, I really could have liked North Bay a lot more than I did when I was a teenager if I had liked sporty things then. In a way I'm glad I didn't, though, since I'm not too bothered about being untalented at them now, and since then I wouldn't have had any sort of gadfly driving me around the world, which I quite enjoy. And I did a lot of fun things that wouldn't have mixed properly with being sporty, like drugs.
Well, I might have done different drugs, but sports drugs look so unpleasurable. I guess a lot of the high is from watching your performance get enhanced, but considering I'm sufficiently pleased for myself if I run around for an hour without stepping in a dog turd, I think they'd be wasted on me. I don't expect drugs to enhance my performance - that's not what they're for. Drugs are either to stop me from getting diseases or else to make everything look pretty. Probably why I've never enjoyed blow.
But back to cross country skiing. It was ace. Even being very bad at it, it still felt like flying. Like rock climbing, doing it once and only falling down five times left me enamoured, and like rock climbing, I can't do it back in Australia. Actually I CAN do it - there's snow in some mountains in the south and because everybody wants to ski downhill the cross country trails are often free or cheap - but I won't, because the prices being charged for the shittiest accomodation there are incredibly extortionate. Surprise, surprise. 'll do it in New Zealand the next time I visit Romola, I guess. And retarded as it sounds, I'm thinking of buying some gear here, second hand of course, because if I spend three days skiing next winter it'll be cheaper than renting. Hmmmmm. The fucking vagaries of living on the retarded end of the planet . . .
9 commenti:
I loved to play football as a kid...still love to play with my Boy. I liked the hitting and getting hit. I am a functioning golfer...I am able to hold down a job and a healthy home environment. Get off my back.
The rest of the sports...I tried baseball and basketball...team sports without violence and no real internal competition. Sh*t was boring. I would've had to have done drugs.
Cross country sking sounds exhausting.
I loved to play football as a kid...still love to play with my Boy. I liked the hitting and getting hit. I am a functioning golfer...I am able to hold down a job and a healthy home environment. Get off my back.
The rest of the sports...I tried baseball and basketball...team sports without violence and no real internal competition. Sh*t was boring. I would've had to have done drugs.
Cross country sking sounds exhausting.
Obviously I am locked in an internal struggle with the blogger comments.
More exhilarating than exhausting and that was the first time out. A little exhausting though.
But psst . . . it helps exercise the muscles one uses for lovin'.
Anyways, just kitting up for football looks exhausting to me. Have you ever looked at Australian Rules? I reckon it's the best thing about Australia. I wouldn't play it, though.
It's a funny thing...when espn first started they were desperate for programming and one of things they filled hours with was Australian Rules Football.
I loved it but, after they became the "world wide leader" in sports it was dropped.
We're gettin some skis.
You're driving up into winter, right? And if it's a family visit it's not really designed to keep all the intimacy muscles in trim. Might as well.
We're up north all right.
Cold is the only explanation (being shut in for months at a time) is the only possible explanation for why most of these folks would ever want to be intimate with one another...obviously denim shirts and sweatpants are getting a lot of reproduction time together.
Sorry...that's ugly. Times like this I wish I had an invite only blog...so, I could really get it off my chest.
Hmm. One of my brothers bought me my first-in-28-years pair of sweat pants a few days ago. Maybe it was a belated attempt to defend my virtue.
Just don't wear 'Em with a mock turtle neck and a stone washed Jean shirt...
Martha's got a few pairs she sleeps in...no complaints.
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