2010 Greatest Hits

Now when I say 'Greatest Hits', I mean it literally. 2010 was the year of the injury for me.  But I learned some priceless life lessons.


Fat People Shouldn't Ski
We should start in February.  Let me give you a word of advice... if you are over 30 years old, 100 pounds overweight, and can't walk a straight line stone-cold sober, learning to downhill ski is probably not for you.  I should have seen the signs when I shopped for 2 days straight trying to find ski pants that were big enough to fit my ass.  Skiing is not for the over-weight crowd. But nonetheless, I want to try everything that life has to offer and no bit of logic is going to convince me otherwise.  New York State has a wonderful learn to ski program for 4th graders.  For $19 your 4th grader gets 2 lift tickets and 1 voucher for a training class at each of your local NY ski lodges.  Along with this package, an adult guardian gets the same thing for 20% off, and these vouchers included ski equipment rental.  What a steal! So I set out to learn to ski this year with my 4th grade son.  He wanted to learn to snowboard, thanks to Sean White's amazing Winter Olympics performance, but I said that we should learn the classic downhill skiing first, then move on to snowboarding. 

Our first lesson and trips down the bunny hill were at Holiday Valley in Ellicottville.  Before I even left the lodge I was in trouble.  The skis that I rented were brand new and the boots were unisex.  They were so high and tight on my fat calves that I tried to walk on my tip toes inside the boot.  No matter how loose I made them, they dug into my calves.  I was almost in tears before my lesson even began.  This lesson was 2 hours long... I made it 1 hour and 45 minutes before I had to give into the pain.  I couldn't do any of the turns or anything because of the severe pain in my calves. Luckily for me the nice lady at the rental shack felt bad that I was crying and gave me my rental money back... The rest of that week I had pain walking because the backs of my calves were purple and swollen.  I refused to do that again but I still wanted to ski, so during the week I went to Red Door Ski Shop and bought my own boots which flexed in the calf and were a bit lower. It was like wearing slippers! I allowed 2 weeks for the bruises on my calf to heal and then we went out to try again.

Next stop, Kissing Bridge. This was more my style because I didn't feel like I was in Aspen... yeah, it wasn't as nice in the lodge and stuff, but I was a sloppy beginner, I felt out of place at Holiday Valley.  The hardest part of this day was holding onto the tug rope to get up the bunny hill.  I swear if they had a chair lift to get up the bunny hill, I would still be there skiing now. About halfway through this lesson I got the lightbulb over my head as I got it.... I learned that I can control my speed by doing s-curves, I learned that I can stop simply by turning back up towards the top of the hill.  And my son taught me to do it all without poles.  He and I had mastered the bunny hill. We spent all day enjoying our time there and decided if we could make it down 20 times in a row without falling, we were ready for the real hill.  And so we did and my calves felt great.  Life was good, and we left KB eager for the next weekend so we can come back and buy a lift ticket. 

That week, the first week of March, we hit a warm spell. On Wednesday the temps hit 40 and it rained for a day. I was so sad because it didn't look like skiing was going to be an option that weekend. I called Red Door to see if I could rent skis there too and the man told me that even if it snows again that week, once it has rained, skiing is not a smart move, especially for beginners.  Ah fiddlesticks... what does he know! The temperatures went down to 20 on Thursday and it snowed an inch or so Friday. So now it was cold enough for there to still be snow on the hills. My son and I were off to try the "real hill". 
So back to Kissing Bridge we went. First of all, the chair lift was the most terrifying experience of my life.  I am afraid of heights, it seems that fear gets worse with age, and to be that high up with a 9 year old next to you is even more scary.  As if the height wasn't enough, I had 40lbs of boots and skis that were beckoning my legs to hit the ground.... 40 feet below.  And it doesn't stop there... This was our 3rd time on skis.  Confidence is not in the cards. When you realize where the chair lift drops off, it doesn't stop and allow you step off.  You need to time exactly when to 'hop' off and when you do 'hop' off, you are hopping onto a 2ft by 2 ft landing at the top of a steep hill. A short hill, but steep nonetheless... so as soon as you are off the chair, you are skiing down a hill.... with your 9 year old son next to you. I thought I was going to die right there.  But I lived. I guess that which doesn't kill you makes you stronger. 

We started on a nice easy hill, the easiest one there or so the person selling lift tickets told me. The name of the slope was 'Dream'. For me, it was more like 'Nightmare'.  It was a 2 step slope. The first half was a nice slope, quick but not dangerous.  I was able to make nice big S's and enjoy myself.  It was a little icey and if I cut my S too tight, I fell, but I was able to hop right back up. This is so peaceful, I love it! Well, Dream only goes halfway down the mountain and then you end up at 'Exhibition'.  Dream actually went up a bit like on a mound, then turned into Exhibition. 'La la la la' I think as as I go up Dream, then as I approach Exhibition, I can see for the first time the bottom of the slope and the lodge. Holy hell... my fear of heights kicked in again and BOOM, I hit the ground. Oops. I get up and try again, but when I fell I knocked the binding on my boot loose so 2 feet later I immediately fell again. Damn, this is hard.. Quite honestly, as I look down, I think to myself, 'how the hell am I going to get to the bottom of this hill? There is no flippin way I am skiing down it, I am going to crash straight into that lodge and kill myself... where is my son? Oh, there he is, at the bottom of the hill... how'd he do that?'  Well, I am only 34 years old and pretty young... suck it up and let's do this! Woo Hoo! Big S curves I go, trying to slow myself down, concentrate on little bits at a time, don't focus on the bottom of the hill. 'Why the heck are these 4 year olds speeding straight down the hill? Don't they know they are going to crash and hit the lodge at the bottom?'  One S curve at a time I go and I am actually getting there. This isn't bad, although I think I forgot to breathe since I hit the Expedition slope.  Then I notice there is a huge patch of grass to the far left... oh no, I better not hit that or I will seriously hurt myself.  Concentrating too hard on NOT hitting something is almost a sure reason why you WILL hit it.  I know this, which is why as I somehow veered straight for it. I cut my S curve too tight and of course hit the ground with a hard thud. This time when I hit, I fell on the side of my right hip and slid down the hill on it.  My helmet (Thank God I rented one) bounced off the snow about 6 times as I went down. My glasses shattered and cut my nose at my forehead. Once ski went down the hill and made it to the lodge without crashing into it (I should have just let the skis do the skiing, they knew were to go.) The other ski was still on my foot and my poles were... heck, I don't think I ever saw them again.   Wow, I fell, hard. That was embarrassing. I look around and don't see a single person in sight, I don't even see the bottom of the hill anymore.  Where the heck is my ski? But I was actually relieved because now with just one ski I had no choice but to walk down the hill. Hooray! I found a way to the bottom. But not so fast there... when I went to stand up I found that I couldn't support myself and fell immediately. What in the world had happened to my hip?  I couldn't stand on it at all.  What in the world was I going to do?

Luckily for me, a 6 year old happened by me and asked if I was ok and I said no, I couldn't walk, so she went to go find me help.  Oh my God, I think I really broke my leg... I never even made it down the hill once. What the hell? People do this for fun?  I always thought a broken leg skiing was just a saying, like "you'll shoot your eye out" on the movie A Christmas Story.  Well, then 2 teenagers, one girl and one boy, came upon me and put me on a tobaggan and dragged me to the bottom of the hill. They were on skis and I remember being more scared of these 2 kids dragging me on skis... I am destined to crash into that lodge.  Finally I am safe at the bottom of the hill and my son, his other 9 year old friend, and his Mom were there wondering where I have been and can they go down again. OMG. Go...go, please don't look at me, I am failure and I can't walk! I don't know how I am going to get up and go home.  So I visit the first aid shack and the ladies are asking if they can look at my hip to see if it is broken.  It is so fat I tell them not to waste their time, they won't be able to tell.  So that is why fat people shouldn't ski.  I never did go see a real doctor, but I could barely walk or sit for at least a week, maybe 2.  Two months later I was still limping.  That was the last time I tried skiing.  People have asked if I will try again this year. It is not the pain of falling I am scared of, it is the feeling of terror when I saw just how high up on a hill I was and the fear of not knowing how I would get down alive.  Damn fear of heights... how do I get over this??? So I tell everyone I will ski again, once I lose 50lbs.  Well, we know that will never happen, so I should be good.  And I have a brand new pair of ladies ski boots size 9.5 for sale, only worn twice, never made it down a hill once. Any takers?



Don't Wear Crocs in the Rain

Come June my hip was feeling almost back to normal, except on rainy days when it ached, but I was ready to move on to summer activities.  We had decided that instead of bitching about how small our yard was each and every summer, we were going to do something about it and set out to find a new home with a bigger yard.  We had put so much work into our house, we thought a good cleaning and it would be market ready. Then we had a stager come through and give us about 5 months of chores that needed to get done to make our house market ready for the price we wanted to sell it for.  My husband and I worked endlessly cleaning, clearing, selling our belongings, moving furniture, repainting, reflooring, re-landscaping.. and finally the day was here: Our first open house. 

We knew we couldn't be there for the showing, so we planning on taking some much needed R&R and bringing the kids to Jellystone campground for the weekend.  Two kids, dog, and camper in stow we left Friday evening to relax and get some sun until Sunday.  Friday was great although it was raining, so we didn't have a fire or anything, we hung out in the camper and watched movies. Hubby and I had both worked full days, so a low key night was just fine for us.  We were so happy that the next morning was dry and warm. Not a lot of sun, but it wasn't raining. Hooray! Me and the kids headed over to the water park and hubby took the dog for a swim in the pond.  We swam until about 3:00. The kids even got me to go down the waterslide.  I went down 3 times until the last time, the sharp turn at the end flipped me completely over and I landed on my face on the hard waterslide.  Man, the bigger they are, the harder they fall.  My nose felt like someone punched me, but I fought hard not to cry as the kids as they fell into the water laughing at me.  Ok, I was done with this, I am going to lay here and read my book.  Let me know when you are done swimming.  About 4:00 the kids were done swimming and wanted me to go make hot dogs, so I stop by the ranger station and order some campfire wood, tell them our site #, and walk back.  By the time we got back it started to sprinkle and I was hoping the wood would come soon. If the fire was going good, a little bit of mist wasn't going to put it out. I was wet already anyway, so it wouldn't bother me. Then it came. A torrential downpour. Towns within 50 miles reported tornadoes. The wind was so strong we thought our camper was going to tip over. But on the bright side, they just dropped off a cord of firewood! They left it right over there in that puddle!

Damn it, I was here to camp and have a good time. No flippin rain is going to stop me, so I lift the wood out of the puddle, put it in the fire ring, dump an entire bottle of starter fluid on it, and stand over my fire holding an umbrella over it.  About 45 minutes later I got that fire going. You CANNOT RAIN ON MY PARADE. When I set my mind to something, it is going to happen. End of story.  We grilled our dinner on a 12" x 6" portable grill on the folding table under our awning so we could get it cooked. We boiled corn on the cob on the stove in the camper with a bucket of rain water we caught off the awning.  You see, we are all about nature :o) Around 10:00 at night, after the kids watched 'What about Bob' for the 3rd time, the rain subsided to a mere drizzle and we all came out and hung out around my fire, which I used the entire cord of wood to make and keep going through a rain storm. It would be bed time soon since I was just about out of wood and had no more money to buy more.  I had my first beer of the day and put my soaking wet crocs next to the fire to dry out for a while. Thank God I had those crocs.  I didn't have to worry about them getting wet, but they were warm and comfortable. I loved those things.  I was not looking forward to packing up in the morning. The 2 rugs under the awning had puddles on them, nothing was dry.  Every towel we brought with us was soaked, the dog is covered in mud.  the floor inside the camper was covered in mud... but we couldn't go home early because the house was pristinely cleaned and staged for tomorrow's open house. 10 loads of wet clothes and towels and a muddy dog would not help me sell my house. 


Finally around 11 pm I went into the camper to tuck the kids in bed.  The rain had officially stopped and I was going to relax in front of the fire with a beer or a glass of wine.  The kids were pretty much sleeping already in front of the TV, so I quietly moved them to their beds and turned off the lights.  Finally things were going my way.  As I stepped out of the camper in my wet crocs, slowly walking sideways down the stairs so I don't wake anyone up and don't scrap the back of my leg on the step (it always dipped down and was awkward), my wet croc caught the very edge of the wet, carpeted stair and I tumble out the door of the camper and hit the big puddle in the middle of the carpet under the awning.  My louder than heaven scream was preluded by a "pop" that could be heard up at the ranger station.  So much for not waking anyone up, as my husband laughs, but rushes over to me nonetheless, and both kids are opening the mini blinds to see what that siren is outside their windows.  "Do you think it is broken?" my husband asks me... but I say, "no, I am sure I just sprained it again". This would be my 3rd serious sprain in 2 years on the same ankle.  I am thinking about just cutting it off to save myself the co-pays and x-rays.  It hurt like hell when I fell, but I was able to hop over to the fire relatively painlessly.  I honestly couldn't feel any pain in my ankle so I figured I just tweaked it. Some wine should take the edge off and I would be fine.  In the dim firelight, I watched a softball grow out of the side of my ankle.  Well, I had cankles anyway, so maybe I just never looked at it in this light. Wow, I need to lose some weight I am thinking.  When I went to go to bed around 1, it hurt like heck to put weight on my leg, but if I wasn't walking, it wasn't hurting. So I took some tylenol and called it a night.  I didn't want to turn on the lights to look at it because I didn't want to wake up the kids.  So I took my cell phone out, the one with a 3MB camera and a bright flash, and took a picture of my ankle so I can see the damage.  Hm, That didn't look right. I should stop by Immediate Care before going to work on Monday.... and I fell asleep. 

The wine I drank helped me fall asleep fast, but not for long. About 4:00 the pounding in my ankle began. It was raining outside again and pitch black. Hubby and all kids were snoring.  There was no way I was going back to bed.  Was there a hospital around here? Where is here?  Man, I don't want to wake up my family and make them take me home... what can I do... so I layed awake until 6am when I called my Dad and asked him to come get me. No big hurry, but soon please.  My husband was going to need help packing up the camper and I couldn't stand.  My Dad called around 10am and said he was just leaving.  By this time I was mad with pain and my husband had pretty much picked up the big soggy everything and dumped it in the camper... let's get the heck out of here and forget this miserable weekend ever happened! Nevermind Dad, we couldn't wait. 

We had a 1:00 birthday party that day and we couldn't go home because of the open house.  I had my husband drop me off at Immediate Care so they could give me an air cast for my sprain and some 800mg Ibuprofen and then he could pick me up and bring me to the birthday party.  One hour later and the doc confirmed it was not a sprain, my ankle (fibula to be exact) was broken. But it is a single fracture, nothing they could really do. Here is an aircast, some 800mg ibuprofen, and stay off it for 4 weeks.  Oh, is that it? Of course, I can lay down with my leg up for 4 weeks... no crutches? Nothing.  I couldn't walk out on my own 2 feet so I had my husband bring me my Dad's old crutches and we set off to the birthday party. No fun. And no present because I planned on shopping for it that morning.

If that wasn't all fun enough, I find out later that day that we didn't have a single person come to our open house. Now I was pissed.  By Tuesday, my ankle was every shade of black, brown, yellow, purple, and  blue and the coloring was under my foot, all the way around my ankle, on top of my foot, and halfway up my calf.  I could hardly stand the pain. Even just lying on the couch with my leg up, the pain was unbearable. I couldn't sleep because the pain of the sheet pulling across my toes was too much to handle. I called my primary doctor for a more powerful pain medication because the ibuprofen wasn't working.  They gave me Tylenol with codeine. I might have well been taking St Joseph's chewable aspirin for pain as good as that did. No pain relief whatsoever. My primary refused to call me in anything else, they said I had to see a specialist. A week later I decided to go see the orthopedic specialist (Immediate care told me to make an appointment before I left, but also told me that they would not be able to do anything so if I wanted I could just not go and save myself the copay).

I was at Pinnacle Orthopedics for 20 minutes when he saw how swollen my foot was and put me in a cast. Immediately my foot felt better. With my weight, he said I just needed more support than the aircast could give me. Even though the cast made it feel so much better, my summer was over.  No swimming, no biking, and I still had an open house every weekend that I had to clean my house for.  Man... when was this year going to be over? 

Well, so my summer goes on, and even though it was hard to walk in a cast, it beat being in pain. Three weeks into wearing the cast the pain was almost completely gone. The only pain I had now was in my knee from walking in a cast.  The bottom of the cast was almost completely worn away from showering with a plastic bag and constant walking around the house while getting it ready to sell. I even painted the outside of the house in it. The shiny black cast was covered in paint, all broken up and smooshed on the bottom, and our trip to Erie County Fair in the rain just about did it in.  Man did that thing stink... and my toes were all itchy and stuff. It was 95 degrees outside and I was DONE. My ankle was fine. Immediate Care told me I didn't even need a cast, so now that the hard part is over, let's get this stupid thing off! Life Lesson: A cast does not come off easily, even if you believe it to be just about dissolved already.  I went through 4 razor blades trying to cut that thing off. Halfway through the 2nd razor blade I thought, gee, the doctor wanted it on for 6-8 weeks, maybe I don't know what's best....  The smartest ideas are quickly fleeting from me.  At that moment the razor blade broke off in my cast. Now it HAD to come off because there is a blade stuck in it.  An hour later HOORAY HOORAY!!! I am free at last! It was the best day of the year! Except that my husband and father kept telling me how utterly stupid I was, and that didn't feel good.  By that night, I couldn't walk again and my ankle was purple again. But my toes didn't itch and my leg was cleanly shaven.  I still think it was a pretty good idea. Nonetheless, I was back at Pinnacle Orthopedics first thing Monday to get cast #2 put on. Fun fun, this time it was a fun pink color and I committed myself to keeping it on until the day the Doctor agreed to remove it, maybe longer. 

On September 9th, I had my cast removed, promptly went home to shave my legs, and even more promptly reported to QNails for a pedicure. It was the best day of the year.  But with all this not being able to exercise I had gained 10 lbs. And so it goes... the fat get fatter.

Auld Lang Syne... on to 2011

So from my injuries and stupidity of 2010, I leave this year and start a new one much smarter and with a clear picture of what needs to happen. Firstly, I need to lose 100 lbs.  Secondly, I will not attempt things that I would do when I was 21 without proper training and conditioning.  Thirdly, I will not wear crocs in the rain. And lastly, I will follow the instructions of people who are smarter than me and have years of education and training (like my doctor and the ski expert at Red Door Ski Shop).  With that said, cheers to 2011!