TAKING THE PISTE
Women of my age had a bad habit of giving up sport around the time we started to notice boys.
I wasn’t one of them. I think I knew instinctively that my passion for sport would outlast my interest in the callow chaps of my adolescence.
Such was my ability, or more precisely lack of it, I was never going to need a trophy cabinet, but I always loved activity, I like a challenge, thrive on competition and adore being outdoors.
I even took up skiing in my 30s for all those reasons, and I wanted to introduce my two boys to as many sports as they possible. The love affair with the white powdery stuff lasted until two seasons ago… then I meet Kurt, an instructor from Austria working in our ski fields.
Kurt was obviously less than impressed by my derring-do on the slopes. “You”, he said accusingly after watching me strut my stuff down the slope, “you like to go slow”.
And that, for those of you not familiar with Alpine sports, is the ultimate insult on a ski field.
It’s akin to calling an Aussie rules player a jib. I was banished me to a lower-level lesson, prompting sniggers all round my erstwhile class, especially from the teenage boys. Up until that moment, I’d been feeling pretty damn good about myself; after it, I had a new-found appreciation of why my school friends and countless other girls and women have sat on the sidelines rather take to the playing field.
I gave skiing a miss last year. Sure, I had plenty of ready-made excuses – too busy with work, not enough spare change, but the truth is that this girl, like lots of other girls through all ages, was not about to make a fool of herself again.
|Page 1 of 2||next >>|