From the stories I hear about skiing out west I think I'm happy to stick with the northeast. I'll let you know when I decide to tackle Tuckerman. I figure the year leading up to it, I'll dedicate myself to getting into better shape. I'm thinking the first few attempts I'll carry 3 pairs of skis. Stop around 20% of the way up, that way I'd be able to get at least 3 trial runs in. The next time, moving up to 40%, then 60%, then 80%. The final attempt hoping to make it down all in one piece. I was hoping you'd be joining me there too...
You know, we probably should have made Tuckermans stop #6...
I think Tuckerman's would hurt more afterwards than any of our football games...
Hurt is relative. My memories of those football games are that the hurt was worth it, it was a "good" kind of hurt. The kind of hurt that would last for a week and a half and be all cleared up by the time we had our next dismemberment bowl was planned.
And anyway, isn't snow supposed to be "soft"???
Pain amnesia is what I get. You forget how much something actually hurts until you do it again. Except getting hit it in the twigs and berries. Women say childbirth is the most pain anyone can have. Ask a woman if she'll have another kid, odds are they'll say yes. Ask a guy if he wants to get hit in the balls again. The answer is no every time (unless your name is Johnny Knockville)...
It could be pain amnesia, it could be just a feel good pain. When I was younger, tons of bumps then at the end of the day resulted in the damn I am sore but ready for more. Once I got older, that wasn't quite as pleasant at the end of the day when it just hurt and wasn't as much fun anymore. The realization when that day came was one of the worst days of my life...
Oh man, that's depressing. It's been a while since I've been in the position of having tons of fun doing something only to be "limping" along like a feeble old man the next day. The closest I get to that is after doing a Jay Peak hike up and down the backside. Walking up stairs later in the day requires a lot of very slow movement...
At first it was really depressing, but after 20 years it still sucks but not as hard as when I finally did admit to myself that downhill just wasn't as enjoyable anymore. At least there are the memories that I can still remember...
As far as you can remember you remember. It's interesting how memories get re-written over time. Too many times I've remembered subtle details I was confidently sure of like the color of a building or what side of the street it's on only to find out that my memory was entirely wrong...
Yeah, there are times I swear up and down that I remember specifically something. Like the Barenstein Bears were "ein" and not "ain". Even to the point where one time I talked to Sue about it and she distinctly remembers typing that name in hundreds of times. When we both worked at Gerber, she would key in the barcodes manually from orders and the book ISBN codes were all produced there...
Ah, the good ol' Mandela effect. False memories are the reason why eye witnesses are the worst kind of witnesses. Here's one for ya. Without looking it up yet, what is written on the passenger side mirror of almost all cars...?
Ok, I'll play the game: "Objects may be closer than they appear"
According to Gary, I'm pretty close...
The "may be" is what pretty much everyone agreed was written on them. But that phrase is not what is actually written on them...
Ahhh that makes sense. It's gotta be objective optimism that makes people want to believe that the big giant eyeball in the side mirror isn't really as close as it appears...
I'm starting to lean towards the parallel universe/multi-universe theories. Too many weird glitches happening. For instance, I'm putting on my running shorts and notice only one end of the drawstring is there. I feel around and find where the other end is in the waistband and then look around for something to pull it out with. Realizing my hemostats are in the basement I'll just put the shorts on and deal with it later. As I'm putting the shorts on, the other end just appears - and not like just 1/4" by the opening, but the full 8" length of it like it was never in the waistband. I think this is how relatively sane people get committed against their will into the loony bin...