I am *so* NOT a snow bunny

Yesterday I agreed to meet J, Y, and N for skiing this morning at 11a.m. This seemed like a good idea at the time (even though I'd never been skiing before) as it was only -7C (and as I commented the other day, after the utter frigid temps of a short while ago, -7C is pretty warm). This morning I got up early, got dressed and then learned that it was -20C outside. Instead of doing the sensible thing and crawling back under the covers, I figured I should go skiing anyway. I went back into my room and added a few more layers of warmth, had my breakfast, and set off on the skiing adventure.

Well, it was a pretty miserable experience, and I don't really imagine that it's one I'll be repeating any time soon. Or ever. First there was the problem with me, the girl who has never skied before moving forward at an unbelievably slow pace, falling over with a resounding whump! every few feet. Not to mention that small children were whizzing past me expertly every couple of seconds... somewhat disheartening. Plus I couldn't feel my fingers at all.

We weren't out there very long, maybe about 15-20 minutes or so. Maybe less, I don't know for sure. I was starting to feel slightly better about the skiing thing (by which I mean I was moving forward and not falling as much), but I started to feel overheated. How can a person feel overheated when it's -20C??? The physical exertion of skiing combined with a billion layers of winter clothes? Maybe. Anyhow, have any of you ever passed out from being overheated? Well, I have had this experience before a few times (what comes of growing up in Florida), but I certainly didn't expect to have this experience while outdoors at -20C. Yep, I passed out. First I started feeling really hot and dizzy and had to sit down a few times. (At this point I discovered that one of my hand warmers had burst open, spewing charcoal - or whatever it's made of - all over my hand and the inside of my glove. Lovely.) Anyway, I decided that I needed to go back. I took off my skis and decided simply to walk back, and J, Y, and N were nice enough to agree to come with me. Which was quite fortunate, as I made it about five seconds, then passed out, face-first in the snow. Lovely.

So, I'm lying there with my face in the snow, being told that I really should *not* have my face in the snow, and thinking about how I needed to get up but couldn't. I found myself thinking about two things: ONE: That time in Doc Salzburg's class when we had to rub the garlic on the bottoms of our feet, and then could taste garlic. Mmmm, osmosis, yummy. Which led me to wonder if I'd been poisoned by my broken hand warmer. And TWO: That unbelievably depressing Jack London story To Build A Fire (about that dude in the Yukon who freezes to death at seventy below zero). Cheery. Well, they helped me to my feet and helped me walk back to the ski-rental place. At first I was still all dizzy and really hot, trying to remove my hat and scarf and gloves so that I could cool down, but by the time we got back to where this adventure had begun, I was feeling properly cold again. And neither dizzy nor sick to my stomach. So, yeah, I feel fine now. I guess I'm just not meant to go skiing.