Ski Vernacular Lesson #1

The strange and sometimes foreign world of skiing is often riddled with a vernacular all it's own. There's terms like "two planker", "corduroy" and "champagne". Words that you undoubtedly know the Webster's definition of, but unless you're knee deep in the white stuff every season, chances are you haven't a clue what these terms mean in the world of skier. So as I prepare for my near month-long hiatus to the land of sunshine, real mountains and ridiculous amounts of both snow and home-brewed beer, I am not just going to ramble about my daily happenings, but I am going to educate you. Educate you in case you too ever want to talk like local ski bum. And yes, I hope to entertain you and keep you posted on the strange and often hilarious things that will hopefully happen to me along the way.

In under two weeks, I will hitch my station wagon to a star, load up my 85-lb. Weimaraner in the backseat and head west on I-80. Two weeks before a "trip" (do I call this a trip, it seems like anything longer than 2 weeks is more?), it's a little premature to start packing, even for someone like me who enjoys counting her ski socks and coordinating wool beanies with sweaters. But there is something I can do to prepare and it has to do with the necessary muscular endurance I will need to essentially, do deep knee lunges down a mountain for seven hours a day. In other words, I need to get my lazy, atrophied quads and glutes in shape. Because although these lower limbs do go on the occasional jog and trip to the gym or yoga studio, they are in no way ready for what aggressively skiing will do to them. Now, for those of you who are not regular skiers who may be planning a trip to do a little snowplowing later this year, fret not. Your muscles will not be as sore as your bruises. I am basically self-assigning myself to a category alongside Picabo Street, even though I am not nearly as good as the Olympian downhill racer, because, ladies and gents I am going to ski! To take my ass from good Midwestern skier to Phenom. And that means there will be no time to ice and rest my muscles the first few days on the mountain. Think of me like Rocky minus the 'roids. Or Michael Phelps minus the ears. In essence, I am competing against the self actualizer inside my head. And I don't like to lose.

And that brings me to my definition of the day:

Squat (sqwot): 1. The act of sitting your ass back as though you are sitting in a chair, done in repetition, oftentimes before I get in the shower or in my office with the door closed (open was weird).

Now, cardio is an important element of skiing endurance, but arguably, not as important as muscle endurance in the ol' gams. And to achieve the musculature stamina necessary for navigating bumps and floating through powder, I have found squats to be the best exercise. My Dad would be proud, he loved hailing the merits of squats. And thankfully for me, you can do them anywhere, with minimal props, even while wearing heels.

So, for the next two weeks I will try to knock out at least 1,200 squats a day (with light weights, of course). And, I'm posting this on my blog partially so my friends and family can keep me honest. It's like a diet. I imagine there will be days I won't even come close to 1,200 (today comes to mind), but most days, this is what I'll aim for. Remember, my station wagon is hitched to a star.

So, here is both my first ski vernacular lesson for you as well as my public announcement of intent for squats. If I am not limping or at least hobbling the next time you see me, tell me to sit down and give you 200. Because the clock is ticking...12 days of squats until go time!