Falling is part of skiing. Whether someone falls often, while they are learning to navigate down the mountain. Or, they have been skiing for years, and a tumble doesn’t happen often. With cerebral palsy and the challenges of skiing, falling had always been part of the experience. For years, I would spend just a couple of days on the slopes. Never experiencing much beyond the beginner ski runs. With that limited experience on skis, even when feeling good, and wanting to take on more challenging terrain. I would find myself falling all over when venturing onto the more challenging intermediate slopes. As I have spent the last few years working more diligently on my skills of skiing. The experiences of falling on the snow have become less. With cerebral palsy, it was something I needed to do, taking the time to slowly improve my skiing ability. During my teens and early twenties, it was all about hitting the slopes with friends. Trying the best, I could to keep up with people who didn’t have the challenge of a disability. They always did their best at being patient with me, but like anyone else, wanted to have fun challenging themselves. The circumstances often led to me overextending myself in trying to ski runs above my ski level. The earlier onset of fatigue, from those I was skiing with, led to many tumbles in my youth. I didn’t recognize the slow build of my skill set would be the only way to succeed as a skier.
When I found the ability to head up to the mountain on my own, the experience of skiing changed. No longer was I struggling with the objective of keeping up with friends, I might be skiing with. The feeling of holding back those who might be skiing with me, would also be left without thought. Finding the courage to ski alone, resulted in my feeling more relaxed as a skier. Helping me slowly work on improvements to my ability, at my own pace, without concern. Even with all of the positives about going up to the mountain on my own, there are some drawbacks. I find it easier to work on my overall skiing skill when by myself. But, inevitably brings about the feelings of skiing with more caution. I’m always trying to keep in mind, there is no one with me, if I experience a fall. The fact has me ski with a cautious approach. On the flip side, when someone joins me on the slopes. Those emotions of worried caution seem to evaporate on those kinds of days. With the understanding of having someone there to help in case of a fall, I tend to challenge myself. Trying to test the skills I have developed from the practicing, when I ski solo. When someone skies with me, I have the courage to ride on an unfamiliar chairlift, or take on terrain I wouldn’t have otherwise challenged myself with.
My year of skiing had been great before my first fall. I had skied well over half of about the six weeks I spent skiing this season. Moving off of just skiing the beginner runs much sooner than I had in the past season. When fear of taking on more advanced terrain kept me on the Daisy chair much further into the ski season. But, this year of 2023-24, it felt like I was showing good improvement. Even when skiing with another person, I seemed to be excelling better on more challenging terrain. However, this particular ski day caught me off guard. The best way I can begin explaining it was feeling like I was losing my left foot. The feeling had been taking place for a day or two, an emotion coming back, that I had experienced in the past. My cerebral palsy feels like it impacts the messages going from my brain to my muscle. Leaving me feeling like I can be left consciously trying to will my muscles to move. Other times, my muscles might be functioning without much concentration on their functionality. There seem to be many moments in my life where I find myself watching my body make its movements, just making sure everything is doing the things I want to be done. The great thing about skiing is trying to teach my muscles to move better with feeling, instead on telling the muscles what to do, and watching to make sure they comply. On the day of this first ski tumble, a long way into the year, it was the left foot that seemed to be losing its messaging somewhere in translation.
I think the activity of skiing helps me put the muscle messaging throughout my body to the test. Because, I have found the ability to have my body perform a ski turn with less and less concentration given to my legs, in order to turn. Making me feel like my skiing helps improve the challenges of my disability. The problem arises when those messages begin to slow and I’m not concentrating on helping my body perform. When I have lost the ability to recognize when those messages are happening slowly. All of the sudden my foot might not execute the action I’m expecting. When this happens skiing down a mountain, usually occurring in one of the more challenging section of a slope, making it challenging to recover. Which was exactly how this first tumble of my ski season happened. It was during a morning is which I was feeling like challenging myself. One of the few picturesque days for skiing during this last winter. The sky was perfectly blue, with the sunshine lighting up the snow. I started cruising down one of short intermediate shoots at Stevens. Like happens often when I fall, some bumpy terrain showed up unexpectedly. My plan was to attempt taking on the mounds with strong purpose, but my mindset became too aggressive, losing my humility for the mountain. I lost connection with my left foot, resulting in the loss of control over my left ski. Sending my sliding down the mountain on my back. What felt like 100 feet was probably more like twenty. I came to a stop safely and to my surprise, was able to turn myself around, and stand back up rather easily.
At the time of my fall, I was about half way down the run being skied. With more terrain to navigate and my confidence a little shaken. Once I had gotten back up onto my feet, I took a minute to gain my composure. Not wanting to just ski off right away without some reflection. Feeling like, not taking the time to gather myself, could lead right into another tumble. When I started sliding down the hill, again. I stated at a slow pace, making sure of the stability in each turn I was executing. The second half of the ski run, following the tumble, felt solid. Leading me to ski right back into line for the chairlift to carry me back up the mountain. There are times when a fall while skiing can mean the end of my ski day. Where I might have fallen over because of overwhelming fatigue and trying to head back up the mountain feels like it would only make things worse. However, if I can arrive at the bottom of a ski run, following a fall, and still feel like I have energy. The goal developed inside me, has been to take on the same route that just caused the fall, and ski it clean. Which, was my exact plan when I skied back down, and immediately loaded back onto the chairlift.
There has often been a feeling inside me, telling me not to give up on challenges. The goal places me back on the chairlift following a tumble, while skiing. When I reached the top terminal of the chair and disembarked. I skied right down the same path, which had resulted in my first fall of the year. Taking more cautious turns, I arrived back in line for the chairlift, a few minutes later. Having skied the same path, immediately following the fall, without any incident. Proud of myself for slowing down and skiing with better humility for the power of the mountain. I proved to myself once again, my ability to hang in there when faced with a challenge. Cerebral palsy presents challenges for me that many other people don’t have to grapple with. Sometimes, the energy required in taking on those challenges, on a daily basis, can be overwhelming. However, when I can remind myself with physical evidence of my ability to continue fighting my challenges. It helps prove to me, beyond the shadow of doubt, my ability to persevere even with the difficulties of being disabled. I haven’t many activities as I have gotten older that provide me with that feeling. Skiing is one of the environments where I probably feel the most disabled. But, a day of skiing leaves me feeling most proud of the way I take on the challenges of my disability.
A Journey With Cerebral Palsy 