Didn’t that happen with ridiculous haste? Born in the family home, on the floor, in 1978, today I wake up in 2023, on an epic family holiday, with two swiftly-growing “big babies.” And me, a 45-year-old rapidly aging man.
Mum was rummaging through some dusty old photo albums and sent me the image above just two days before my birthday.
I remember this day as a four-year-old because I vividly recall the feeling of being weightless, having distance between the ground and me, a distance that I created.
We were visiting friends in Perisher, I found some skis in the lodge, put them on, and skied down the first hill that ran away from the lodge. Without any suggestion, I decided to build my own little mound of snow to ski over.
I walked up and down that hill multiple times, clicking in and out of my bindings. I don’t recall any fatigue but I have no doubt there was an early experience of muscle burn, all for serious reward.
With a longer run-up, I achieved more speed and more height.
I still love that feeling of being weightless in the air, creating that distance. I continue to search for it through a number of exhilarating sports and I count myself lucky to achieve it on a weekly basis.
How long can I keep this up in a safe manner? 10, 20 years? longer perhaps?