Sunday, January 10, 2021

Walking in my imagination and other sports.

 


We both woke early this morning. I had tried not to disturb my husband who seems to need more sleep than I do. I did what I always to when laying in bed awake and that it to recite some of the poetry that I have learnt by heart, but just inside my head. If it is something that I am learning at the time, I also count the lines of each verse on my fingers like a child trying to work our sums. A big heavy arm flopped over me at waist level and when I reached for the hand at the end of it, my husbands voice said, “Good morning fidget”, it was 5.45 am. He is such a sweet natured man, but it was a relief to know that he was awake, and I sat up and swung my legs over on the side of the bed, happy that I didn’t have to try to be still and quiet any more.


  We had spoken last night, about what training we would do today, so we both knew that there was a longish turbo training session in store of us this morning. If we want to continue hoping against hope, that one day we will be able to resume our sport and be able to travel hither and thither across the UK and Europe, to take part in our old generous ration of races during the summer months; then we need to keep our training level keen. As it is, we are keeping our legs spinning and the muscles working but mental level of enthusiasm, is currently requiring us to take the pain of a formal workout away from the scene and substitute something more pleasing, not just to the eyes and ears but also more warming for the heart and soul. So, watching a recording of cycle coach on screen shouting at us for several hours, is for a while anyway. Right out of the question.

 


 That is how come Steve set our turbo bikes up in our living room, in front of the biggest TV screen in the house and whilst we rode our bikes, we watched one of the Biathlon events, that often at this time of year, we would have watched from the side lines, either in the stands or standing in the snow at a barrier somewhere around the course. One of the many good things about Biathlon is that most races have laps, so you get the chance to shout at your favourite athletes every time they pass by. 

Since there does not seem to be any top flight British biathletes, we are free to simply support our own choice of teams. Well, we could if we wanted to, but we are strong fans of the Norwegian team if the truth be known, but are, very fairly, ready to cheer whoever is performing well on the day. This morning we watched three races, men’s 12.5 km first then women, then a mixed team relay, as we worked our way through a sweaty three-hour turbo session ourselves and that was most satisfying.

 


It surprises us that the sport is not followed by many of our friends. We talk about this often because it is a tremendously exciting sport to watch and the lead can change quite suddenly, if somebody doing well, then unaccountably misses a shot or two and has to put in penalty loops dropping them then, from a podium position down to 7th or eighth before you can say ‘Knife’. Its better in a way on TV because you can see that after all that excursion, getting round the loop, that they have to hold their breath to shoot at the targets! Good stuff this morning, very exciting.

 

As long as we have been together as a couple, (44 years) we have taken a winter sports holiday. For many years that was a skiing holiday, sometimes split between different resorts. We both love a variety of winter sports and also like to go and support the British Bob and Skeleton team at competitions, if we can and this year, we have really missed doing that. In fact, sometimes we have been to a Biathlon somewhere and then a couple of Bob competitions too, sometimes the events fit in nicely together to allow three events in one holiday. We both love being in a resort heavily decked with the white stuff, where there are frozen lakes to walk across and the most devastatingly beautiful scenery, taking loads of fabulous photo’s for memories. Giving away a little secret here, Steve has the top station web-cams running on his office computer while he does other desk work.

 

 

When we were just taking the last fifteen-minutes spin down today, we were saying how awful it must be for people with no imagination during a long lock down, and this sure has been a very long time, we are all so often stuck inside four close walls, with no pictures in your mind to muse over it would surely be asking for trouble. I said to Steve that I often take a mental hike in the snow as I sit and sew or even when doing the ironing. My favourite walk in my head is from the centre of St Moritz, down to the frozen lake, and then turning onto the path along the lakeside and through the woods to Lake Staz, then over the hill and down to Pontresina Station, before following the Rosegg valley all the way to the glacier. So still and quiet, it fills your heart to bursting with the sheer beauty all around. All the way there and all the way back is a day trip walking on the snow and that is for the average fairly fit person. We have taken that walk dozens of times. Sometimes, if we have started late, we will have a meal in the hotel at the end point, and then take a night time sleigh ride back to Pontresina, behind the jingling of the bells on the harnesses of the four or six horses. Magic. Lord knows how many times I have imagined my way through that glorious holiday day hike. Better than looking at the four walls by a mile.

 

 

In talking about it this, this morning with Stephen, I mentioned that I would like to take the walk to the glacier in summer time and then climb over the top of the mountain there to return to the town. We pondered where the point of return would be and we both said where we thought it would end up, before we checked by looking at ‘maps’ on the computer. I strongly insisted I that I was right, but when we both saw where the trail went. Steve got up and walked away saying, without turning to face me, “You can admit you were wrong at your leisure”. 


 

 

 

No comments: