
The following blog is from Jumper Vivvi Pierce (left at Tauplitz, Austria). She is a teacher in Hungary that recently re-discovered skiing. Here's her story ... you can find her travel adventures at vivvi-pierce.blogspot.com/
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My parents are cool. Many people make this claim but, in my parent's case, they actually are. My mom went to Burbank High school where she was voted "Best Smile" and "Best Personality" her senior year. She was a flight attendant when flight attendants had weight restrictions and fit physiques . Also, she was on a TV commercial and her image was used in printed advertisements. My dad was in Theta Chi Fraternity, a member of ROTC, a yell leader at the University of Washington and a model. He was a pilot in the Vietnam War. He was rewarded two distinguished flying crosses as well as countless other awards for his bravery and heroism. He and my mom, over their forty years of marriage, have done many things and traveled all around the world. But, above all, my parents love skiing. Actually, they live to ski and ski they do. To be honest, when it comes down to it, they are ski-aholics.
My ski-aholic parents had big dreams for my sister and I to become ski-aholics too. I remember, every weekend for years, my parents would creep into my bedroom and scoop up my sleepy body. They would stuff my fat limbs into my sister's old ski suit, cram a hat on my head, and put me in the back of the car to sleep until we got to the mountain. Once there, I would be forced into my sister's old boots and skis and thrown into ski school. My parents and sister, who was already a really good skier, would ride off into the sparkling morning powder and leave me with and over-caffeinated ski instructor and a bunch of nose-pickers.
It was some time after my ninth or tenth birthday when I went skiing with my parents and I had a terrible experience. I was getting calf cramps but back then I didn't have the ability to accurately express the sensation in my legs. I just kept telling them my boots where hurting me. I had grown freakishly fast between those years and I was, of course, using my sister's old boots and they didn't fit right. I could only ski half the day before the pain got the best of me. I surrendered, cried, and never skied again. I switched to snowboarding because the boots are softer and I got good at it; however, it hurt my legs so bad I had to quit that too. I know my ski-aholic parents were saddened by it all.
In junior high, I began suffering from constant leg pain. I would walk across the room and get horrible leg cramps. I couldn't sleep at night because I would get cramps too. I had to stop all sports I played by the time I was in high school because I couldn't run anymore. I had seen dozens of doctors who all told me the same thing, "drink water, eat potassium." I knew my problem wasn't that simple, so I Googled my symptoms and diagnosed myself with Compartment Syndrome. Then I stalked a specialist that could help me. Ironically, there are only a handful of specialist in the United States and one of them is in Seattle. Turned out I was right, I had a severe case of Compartment Syndrome, a rare condition causing a lack of elasticity in your leg muscles (or arms) which eventually rips and hemorrhages. I had it in all eight of my calf compartments. Three weeks later, I had surgery and my life has improved drastically but I still didn't ski. I went off to college, where I was poor. Then, I moved to Hungary, where I am poor.
Fifteen years passed before I put on skis again and during this time, my sister had actually made a career of skiing. She had become a ski journalist and the co-founder of Shejumps.com, a non-profit organization directed towards women of the outdoors. She lives in Salt Lake City, just so she can be close to the mountains. She is a ski-aholic. For years, I felt out of the loop when skiing was discussed over family dinners and Skype conversation. It was obviously a bond my family shared without me.
I was given the opportunity to ski for free this past Christmas in Duetchlandburg, Austria at Camp California's Winter Ski Camp. Ski for free?! When the camp director offered me a counselor position I was reluctant when I heard the word "ski" but I began to soften after the word "free." I decided to go and take ski lessons again. I rented some equipment and off I went. Our first day on the mountain, I enrolled in a beginners ski school but after a half day, I moved up to intermediate. I remembered everything from when I was a little girl but this time I was flying, no pain. By the end of the week, I was addicted. An official ski-aholic.
Once returning from Christmas break, I was looking for another opportunity to ski. My school was offering a week long ski trip to Tauplitz, Austria and anyone that went, got a random week off of school. I saved all my money and I signed up. I even convinced my friend Theo to go with me. Last week we stayed in a little mountain lodge which allowed us to ski from the back door onto a ski run. We cruised around the Austrian Alps in fresh powder and loved it.
Now, after twenty-five years, I finally see why my family is addicted to this sport and it feels great to be part of their biggest love again. You know, my family is Norwegian and the Norwegians invented skiing- so I guess it runs in our veins. I've always wanted to grow up and be just like my parents and, now, there is nothing stopping me! I can't wait for next season!
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