Triple Jumps and Dreams of Skiing

The Boy has been checking the snow reports at Stevens, Mt. Baker, Snoqualmie, and Crystal every morning when he wakes up. He checks again after school. The snow is falling and he is excited. He outgrew his old skis and got new skis a few weeks ago, and he is ready to give them a run.

I can't ski yet. I just passed the nine month anniversary from my ACL repair surgery (yay!) but my surgeon said to wait a year to allow the allograft repair to fully integrate and heal (boo). I wasn't sure how I would feel about ski season coming back. I mostly tried to avoid thinking about it, and now it is here. Will I ride with them in the car for hours to sit in the lodge and play solitaire, read a book or drink hot chocolate? Might I be tempted to head to the rental place while Jack and the kids are high on the mountain and try the greens? Would I be able to resist? Would it make me more or less depressed?

I went to physical therapy yesterday and I asked what tests I needed to pass before they would allow me back on the mountains. Evan, Jason and I discussed this.

"These are tests that will allow you to decide when you are ready to ski," Evan said. "A year on the calendar doesn't mean anything if you are sitting on the couch the whole time."

"What do I need to do?" I asked.

Evan stood on one leg, his other leg perched behind him and he was in the shape of a tee. He flung the back leg forward and jumped on the standing leg about six feet forward.

"You're bad leg needs to be 90% of your good leg on this jump and the triple jump," he said.

I didn't think I could do one jump on my good leg, let alone my bad leg.

"Let's give it a try," Jason said cheerfully. He had more faith in me that I had in myself. We went to the open gym area and I practiced jumping. I had to stick the landing, not take a second step or wobble and put my other leg down.

For a single jump, I went about 26 inches on my bad leg and 39 inches on my good leg which means my bad leg is 66% of my good leg. Twenty-three percent more to go! I did better with the triple hops: 84.5 inches with my bad leg and 115 with my good leg. I was at 73%!

When I finished jumping, I did agility exercises, which I love. I feel like I am dancing when I do it, or that I could dance soon after. For me, getting back to "normal" also means feeling like I can move quickly without my brain stopping my body before I take a step, processing "Is this going to be safe? Will the left leg hold?" I feel like my brain has my left leg on parole, and it has to check in for approval before it does anything new.

Last night, I dreamt I was skiing. It wasn't a fantasy dream like I was flying or racing down runs that I couldn't do before, but a practical dream of my first time back on the slopes. What would it be like? My left leg wasn't agile or strong enough to keep everything in control. Would I be able to quickly stop or maneuver moguls? I could possibly avoid moguls and steep stretches, but sometimes there are tough passages that require extra dexterity that I don't have yet. I would probably not kill myself or re-injure my knee on a green, but would it be worth the risk? Sometimes the green runs are more dangerous than the blues because beginners are going down hill with little to no control.

Jack has a colleague who is a big skier who tore his ACL years ago. Each year before ski season starts, he takes a "Back to Skiing" exercise class to get back into shape before he goes downhill. Next year I plan to take the class.

Better yet, I wish there were a machine where I could safely practice skiing indoors. Treadmills are for running, stationary bikes are for biking, and rowing machines exist so landlocked people can pretend they are on the open water. I know "real" exercise is more fun than indoor exercise, but I'd love to try a skiing machine...