First Turns

We are at the height of the ski season. In Colorado, the snow is finally falling and the base numbers slowly creeping up. I'm very pleased to have made it to the ski hill and continue improving my leg. It has been difficult and completely humbling. The challenge is to learn to ski again and I am getting better.

First turns this year, my focus is back to the basics; face downhill, keep your head up, keep your hands up, pole plant and gently release, and the most dominant focus is to keep my feet underneath me.

Most of the time I think about my feet and where they are in relation to my upper body. Extending my skis and feet away from my body is completely terrifying. I don't have the confidence to lay out an extended arcing turn.


Here's an old picture of me pouching a nice easy groomed run, notice my feet.












My feet are somewhat extended from my body.  You can see the snow spraying out to my right, the bottoms of the skis, and most importantly you can see my feet extended from my center. They are not underneath my  center of mass, my stomach, my shoulders or head.  This extended position is similar to when I broke my leg.

Over the course of this season, I've been very conscious to keep my feet underneath me.  My turns have been somewhat skiddish.  Check out this video and notice how my feet stay underneath my body.


I have some work ahead of me.  Mostly I have been tele'ing, and find the freedom of movement in my leg is more difficult but also more therapeutic.  I get tired quickly but I feel the muscles more engaged with a tele turn, especially an inward spiral engaging the thigh and muscles around the knee.  Here's my first powder day on teles this year.

Healing

Fall is here and summer has left the mountains.  The Aspens are bare, their leaves blown over the neighborhood.

The summer was good for me and my family.  It went by quickly and I worked hard to strengthen my leg.  I'm not 100%, but the leg is so much better then what it was.  This past summer, my bike was my best friend.  I purchased a trainer and rode as much as I could.  When I was stronger, I went out on the road.  It was definitely intimidating at first to ride on the road.  I couldn't stand and pedal.  At first, I didn't feel very stable or strong.  That changed by the end of the summer.

We spent the summer in Wisconsin at a lake cabin.  We swam everyday and walked in the woods.  The roads in Wisconsin are the best for riding, smooth and few cars.  I'm happy to be back in Colorado and excited for the ski season.

The challenge this year is to take it slow.  I'll be especially present and aware of my skiing.  It'll be different and I hope to get some powder days.
I think I'll start off by making a lot of skid turns and side slipping exercises.  As I get stronger, I'll practice skiing on one foot and also step turns.  I'm nervous about carving and extending downhill.  I'm also nervous about the angles I'll be able to make with my knees and hips.

To get ready - I made a movie.  I've been watching this to get excited.  This is me, pre- tibia plateau fracture.

Beginnings

My wife was seven months pregnant at the time of my accident.  Not only did she have to deal with her own health, but also take care of me especially in the first few weeks.  I was taking over 20 pills a day with Christmas a week away.

Those first few weeks were the hardest on her.  She had to make meals, clean the house, deliver ice and pills, and every day it would be harder for her.  At the end of the day, we were both thankful to make it through, closer to recovery.

In the first week, Robyn sent a plea for help out to our neighbors and friends.  The response saved us from many cold and hungry nights.  Our cabin is heated mainly by a wood stove.  Our community made sure there was always a fire with stacked wood inside.  Our friends prepared meals for us, went to the grocery store, took out the garbage, ran errands, and helped with household chores.  We literally had a prepared meal every night for over a month.  We also hired a neighbor to come twice a week to help.

I really didn't appreciate all the activities that go with living in this “modern” society.  We have smart phones, brilliant vehicles, stores that sell everything, the Internet, and when you’re crippled things quickly become impossible.  By grace, we found a way to make it through with the incredible kindness of friends.  Thank you.

In the first few weeks, it took me 20 minutes to go to the bathroom.  Everything was a long process of using the walker to get where I wanted.  My life consisted of the bedroom, with well planned trips to the bathroom or kitchen.  Once I arrived at my destination, I'd have to think of how to accomplish my goal using one hand while balanced on one foot.  Making a sandwich with one hand takes forever!  I used to rock climb a lot and this experience reminded me of climbing.  I was always planning my next move without ever taking my hand of my walker for balance.  I am very grateful that I never had an accident.

By February, I was able to maneuver slowly through our home.  I was able to do dishes while sitting on a stool, carry wood with my walker and a grocery bag strapped to the handles.  Things were getting easier for me, but much harder for Robyn.  She was getting fuller and the baby was moving more.  The pregnancy was approaching full term. 

On March 9 2012, I had my 12 week doctor appointment.  They took x-rays and the doctor cleared me to start putting weight on my leg.  Although the bone was still broken, the screws and plates did not shift and there is evidence of bone growth.  This was an excellent doctor visit, and to celebrate we went out to lunch to our favorite restaurant in Frisco.  The next day, I worked hard at therapy and was able to walk short distances using only one crouch.  A week later, our daughter was born.

March 15

Sophia was born at 2.54am on March 15.  This little angel came right on time and played a big role inspiring me to walk again.  Without her, I know my recovery would not be this far this fast.   The past four months have been one of the most difficult.  It has also been transformative.  Robyn and I are bonded tightly and completed with a baby daughter who demands us constantly in the present.  Our journey together is just beginning, and I hope it is a long one. 

To all of you who have gone out of your way to help Robyn and I over the past four months, Thank You.  It is a very special gift to help those in need unconditionally.  It is also a difficult gift to receive without the pressure of guilt or worthiness.  Robyn and I will always remember this time as a moment of growth in our lives.  Our little Sophia is a fine symbol of our shared community.

Love Peace Abundance Truth and Happiness 

Freedom

Many people wonder why anyone would wear a pair of $700 uncomfortable and ugly boots.  Then attach two sticks costing $1200 to the boots, two poles costing $100 and oodles of other equipment like goggles, hats, gators, gloves, socks, sexy long underwear and most importantly lift tickets to ride up to the top of a mountain.  Only to slide down, over and over and over and over again.

Skiing is an expensive and time consuming sport.  The equipment isn't very comfortable, and it's a Winter sport.  It's cold outside and many times it's dark or snowy, even rainy or sleety.  Many sports are expensive and time consuming but skiing stands out as very uncomfortable.  The rewards of doing the sport don't come easy or quick.  It takes years of practice to become moderately competent and if you slack off it isn't like riding a bike.  There are numerous factors that effect your competency and many of these are refined movements.  A simple lazy hand movement might effect the outcome of an entire turn in skiing.  You might wonder about the mental health of anyone who'd want to ski.  They certainly aren't complacent, some would call them stubborn.  I like to think of skiers as determined.

Everything I've learned in life, I've learned on a ski hill.  I've gone through many lessons in hard work, determination, independence, humility, patience, assertiveness, and leadership.  I was lucky, I had a father who woke me up at 5am on Saturday and Sunday so we could make it to the ski hill before everyone else.  He taught me life lessons as well as letting me explore some on my own. 

I started racing when I was in middle school, and continued to race in high school and college.  I also started to teach skiing while in college.  After graduation, I packed up my Chevy two door with a ski rack and drove to Vail, Colorado.  I had to live out of my car for two months before finding a room (lesson of self sufficiency) but it was worth it.  I was working as a ski instructor at the finest ski school in the world.  The year that I got a job at Vail, there were over 700 new applicants and the resort hired 30 people.  During the peak of any season, you'll find over 1200 ski instructors on the slopes of Vail and Beaver Creek.  These skiers come from all over the world and they are some of the finest human beings you'll ever meet.

I have many memories of teaching at Vail, and these experiences will influence my world view for the remainder of my life.  Like the time I taught an 80 year old woman to ski for the first time.  She had always wanted to try it and never did, and was determined to give it a whirl before leaving this world.  This woman could teach a few lessons in faith and courage.

Another woman I skied with had lost her husband of over 20 years to an accident while skiing at Vail.  It had been 5 years since she had skied or been back.  We rode the gondola up to the top and spent a lot time just talking and walking around Eagles Nest.  Then we skied to mid-Vail and she broke down suddenly.  While she was crying and I was speechless, she told me the exact spot where her husband had died.  We had just skied past it.  (another lesson in gratitude and mortality)

If you want to learn anything about patience, become a ski instructor.  Whenever I taught children, patience was my best friend.  Try to get 10 hot chocolates for your class in a crowded lunchroom.  Convince every child that going to the bathroom before skiing is a good idea.  Or that skiing in a line when there's two feet of new powder is best, because if they fall they won't be able to get up.  Kids love to push the boundaries; patience, consistency, and shared understanding of rules and rewards for their behavior saved me from jail time.  Bribes helped too.

Most importantly, growing up in a ski family and skiing is FUN.  All kids enjoy snow and any chance to roll around, fall down, get up, and push the boundaries of sane speeds and death defying jumps or moguls is a lot of fun.  Ever hear of a Chinese Downhill?

I started skiing when I could walk and hope to repeat this with my new baby daughter.  At this point, the best word to explain my love to ski is freedom.  I started skiing very young and just kept doing it.  My time at Vail improved my skill to a level that few people achieve.  I'm able to pick routes, see my turn, and actually follow through on plans most of the time.  I've skied everywhere in America, several places in British Columbia, La Grave France, and Chile.  I've stepped out of helicopters and hiked up volcanoes to ski.  The sense of freedom is overwhelming, it fills me with happiness.  The beauty of the mountains, the peace of snow, and a full sense of freedom to adventure wherever I wish to go on a mountain.

This feeling doesn't come easy, I've had to pay a price for it.  I've foregone most things in life that others jump into fresh out of college.  I married late, I had my first daughter at 42, and even though professionally I am successful it took me longer and I'm starting later then most. 

The sense of freedom on a ski slope doesn't come as quickly as it used to.  There's real world problems that occupy more of my thoughts these days.  I don't ski 120 days a year anymore, and my skills have slipped from what they were.  Although, I know this feeling and know that it's not something anyone can buy.  You have to earn it and next to love it is a miraculous state where you are literally on top of the world.  To ski down a couloir confidently and look up from the bottom is great sense of accomplishment.  The very act of skiing it though is what makes it even more sweet.

After my accident, for a long time I thought about skiing and if I would be able to return.  I know now that I will.  Not because I'll push my physical boundaries or take chances.  I'll ski again next year because I have to.  I live to ski and that's why I'll be out there again.  And I know I'll have good company.

The Accident

I can tell whenever I get into trouble skiing.  There's a moment when I know it's not going to work out according to plan and it'll be better to fall as softly as possible.  Other times the trouble moment comes up quickly and fortunately my bindings release, which makes falling a lot faster but at least I'm able to fall.

My accident didn't fit either of those descriptions.  My moment of knowing came after I heard a pop.  At which point I realized that something wasn't right, and I was in more then just a little bit of trouble.  There's a number of reasons why I'm very fortunate to have had unique circumstances surround my accident.  The biggest one is that I was able to fall by laying down on my side after my leg broke.  The fall itself was the easiest thing about my accident.  I simply laid down on my side, my right side, and lifted my broken left leg as best I could while skidding to a stop.

It was the start of a beautiful day at Abasin.  I was skiing a little too fast, and my skis did feel like they were rebounding too quickly, but I was enjoying it.  I was working on moving my hips through the turn and initiating my turns with a pronounced hip movement down the fall line.  This is a powerful movement to jump onto a new turn edge.  It probably wasn't the best movements to practice for my first day.  Instead, I probably should have been working on some simple skid turns and weight progressions.  I was practicing hip movements while skiing around 40 mph.

As I initiated a new turn to the right, I moved my hips down the fall line laterally over my skis.  This enables me to jump on the new outside downhill ski quickly, edging the ski, and transferring weight progressively to the new outside ski.  While moving to the right, increasing the angles created from the hips, to the knees and finally the ankles.  This was my plan anyway.

My outside ski got hung up on a rail.  Almost as if the ski was on a track and headed on path much different then I was.  I was making a turn to the right and my left ski was going down the fall line.  My hips were already angled to the right and my knees were following, but my ski was moving further away.  That twist, along with the pressure of my full body weight, crushed my tibia plateau behind the knee cap.  Almost like a wine cork that gets twisted from the bottle.  The ski patrol kept asking what I felt, and the only explanation I could give was that it feels like there's junk in my knee cap that cracks and pops when it moves.

The ski patrol did an amazing job.  Those people deserve a big hug from every skier.  They're not paid much, or even paid anything but they listened and took me to safety.  They braced my leg, got my stuff together and called the ambulance.  Everyone who fixed me up - Thank YOU.  The ski patrol, ambulance drivers, nurses, doctors, and hospital staff - huge debt of gratitude, my whole hearted thank you!

X-rays of Will's leg

Plates and screws

12 Weeks Later

Seems silly. After almost 4 decades of sliding down hills and mountains on skis, I break a leg. I broke my tibia plateau on my first day of the 2011-12 ski season on a groomed blue slope. It hurt.

Now 12 weeks later, I'm starting this blog to record my experience. The thoughts, the loneliness, the pain, the process to get back to walking. I hope this blog will end with a new ski season and my return to the sport that's meant so much to me.

The accident is common, I guess, among skiers. A fracture in the tibia plateau caused by an excessive amount of pressure and twisting. My leg was the cork in a fine bottle of wine. I just got myself into a twisted position and couldn't stop till something broke.

This all happened on a blue bird day December 16, 2011. I was into my 4th run, and my skis were really active. I'd tuned them the week before, and they were curving great arcs on some grippy groomed snow.

Over the past 12 weeks, I've seen the doctor on three occasions. I've had physical therapy twice, sometimes three times a week. I also have massage therapy on a weekly basis. Last Thursday, I got the go ahead for weight bearing. So, I'm into it now. Let the weight bearing begin! I want to walk, and ski now!