What Tranquility?

When Cross Country Skiing Became a Downhill Disaster

My Fun Buddy And I Witnessed How People Can Be So Heartless

I took up cross country skiing as a healthy hobby brimming with physical and mental health benefits.

It’s so easy to let your thoughts slip away as you silently glide across fresh white snow.

But I suck at it in reality. Because I go slow. How slow? So slow, that on an urban trail, a jogger zoomed right by me. He couldn’t contain himself when he blurted out, “You’re on skis. Shouldn’t YOU be going faster than ME?”

“I didn’t realize we were in a race!” I told myself this awesome comeback a couple hours later.

Next time, it was even worse. I heard a jogger coming up beside me. I gave myself a little extra push to ensure not to face the same embarrassment. This time when I got passed however, it was by a walker!!! Oh well, back to Zen.

Linda, my dear fun buddy friend who is always up for an adventure, lived near a ski resort.

She wanted me to join her as she tried cross country for the first time.

“I really hope I’ll be able to keep up with you!” I nervously giggled to disguise my actual concern.

When we got to the club, it was apparent that it was for very SERIOUS skiers. They were all decked out in spandex. While Linda and I sported cute jeans and parkas.

We paid an exorbitant sum to be able to join those snobby skiers. But at least these were proper cross-country trails that prohibited joggers and walkers from racing beside me. I justified the cost to myself.

Before long, our silent bliss was broken by voices hollering behind us, “Coming through, coming through!!!” The spandex gang shrieked.

Since they were the pros, weren’t THEY supposed to move over to the fast lane? I guess not. So we gingerly moved over while some of them almost ran us over.

And then we saw it.

A dreaded HILL. What the devil was a hill doing on a cross country ski trail anyway? Wasn’t it supposed to be all flat?

We carefully peered over the edge before deciding what to do next. Some other jean clad novices looked up at us in sheer desperation.

“Help!” They pleaded. “Our friend fell on the way down.”

“Oh no!” I yelled back. Now I knew for sure I’d be taking my skis off to get down there.

“We’re on our way. Hang on!” I reassured them.

But just then some more of the uncaring spandex clad variety almost knocked us over in their haste to show off going down the hill with their skis ON!

“Wait!” I yelled. “Someone down there has fallen.”

Instead of looking concerned or rushing to the rescue, they screamed to the fallen skier, “Hey! Get out of the way!”

“Aren’t you going to help?!?” I asked incredulously.

“No!” The spandex clad clan bellowed in unison. “We have to keep our heart rates up!”

“Oh. I didn’t realize you had hearts!” I quipped to Linda later on our drive home.

“Yeah. That would have been a great comeback!” She laughed in agreement.

But alas, I was too slow, as usual.

At the time, my shocked friend and I just quietly and carefully made our way down to help our bewildered comrades. Never to return to that obnoxious ski club again!

Thank you for reading my story.

Thank you to @everythingfun publication Toni Greathouse and Hollie Petit, Ph.D.

For another Everything Fun story please see:

For more please check out my book: https://amzn.to/3s01fDv