The last two winters delivered an unbelievable amount of snow but I must regretfully acknowledge that this season the snow gods did not smile upon Utah. The powder came late and infrequently this year. With that said, Jason and I still had a great time boarding. We made the most of the handful of good storms we did have. Work and life were skipped as often as necessary when sweet powder presented itself. We hit the slopes on eight occasions, three of which were in one divine week, as we were called forth by the promise of sunshine or the arrival of fresh fluff.
Pioneer is one of my favorite runs at Brighton. It's not too crazy or too boring.I can actually keep up with Jason most of the time these days, which makes sweet pictures like this possible.Now that's a powder skirt!
My education in the art of boarding continued this year. I conquered my first black diamonds, attempted wall hits, rode tighter tree runs, and picked up my speed. Of course, I also wrecked masterfully several times. Like when I was catapulted through the air by some rock-solid hard pack and landed on my knees with a ferocious might that knocked the breath out of me and left them swollen and bruised for weeks or when I somersaulted all the way down a black diamond hill in an unstoppable fashion that resembled the growing human snowball tumble you see in cartoons. Not some of my finer moments but hey, for boarders pain equals progression, which explains why I’m such an amazing rider now. (Shut up and let me hold onto the dream.)
Last month a fantastic storm came through that brought heaps of snow. You can bet your bottom dollar that we were out on that powder lickety-split.It was nearly 60 degrees at Brighton on their last day of the season. Jackets were discarded while smiles were fixed.I've become accustomed to riding in deep powder so I no longer sink and wallow in it like a fly in feathery molasses.When your friends have grown too old to do cool things like board self-photos sometimes become necessary.I tried to hit a jump but hit this sign instead. How did that happen?
Earlier this week Jason and I rode the slopes of Brighton on their closing day. We mingled with caped skiers and riders in pink bunny suits as we celebrated another season and mourned its end. The boarding may only have been mediocre this year compared to the last couple, we may not have been enticed into the mountains as often or blasted by blizzard after blizzard, but we still found the sweetness. For all those that seek powder with hearts as pure as freshly fallen snow shall obtain it. This the gods of winter have promised and this they will bestow. Amen.
Once you have jumped into a freezing lake your perspective on everything changes. The world suddenly seems warmer and you feel like you could do just about anything, almost as if you had superpowers.
Justice has a new face and it's an ugly one.
After double-dipping into ice sheathed waters last winter we decided to again support the Special Olympics by plunging into Utah Lake this year and we convinced an even bigger circle of family and friends to join us. Our nine man brigade opted to go all out, and all ridiculous, in the costume department. Since leaping into 33 degree water is a stunt only the super dumb or the superhero would attempt it seemed fitting for us to dress as both.
It took a bit of super strength to stare those frigid waters down and jump in.
We, or I rather, named our team the Just Us League like the Justice League only it’s just us. Don’t get the joke? Obviously you have no sense of Rachel humor.
Although last year we had to swim farther to get back to shore, the distance this time still seemed infinitely long.
We all picked a superhero to emulate. Jason selected Captain America and I chose to go as Supergirl. Supergirl’s blonde hair was the primary reason for that decision; a wig doesn’t work when you’re diving into a lake. I made me a cape and some arm bracers embellished with silly gold rickrack reminiscent of the tacky uniforms worn in the original Star Trek TV series. Though my costume looked rather absurd, I was definitely outgunned by some of the outrageous boys on our team. Jason, Jeremy, and Adam all wore Speedos. Need I say more? Icky! With their masks and accessories Jason and Jeremy looked like extremely low-budget adult film stars.
Jeremy was revolting in his mankini. Superheroes are supposed to save the world not repulse it.
Our team may have been flashy and flamboyant in our costuming but we were even flashier in our fundraising. We raised about $1200 for the Special Olympics. That placed us as one of the top three grossing teams…and gross we were.
Our massive group had to be split in two; we were too bulky to jump in at once. This, our second set of plungers, did us proud.
The largeness of our group and coolness of our costumes compounded to make for one fantastic plunge. Although our presently milder than normal winter didn’t help the temperature of the lake much, with our super attire and courageous entourage we were ready to face any frigid foe. We took on that chilly villain and we took it down! Just us was served!
Last September, as we and a few of our friends were discussing some group training runs that we had done to prepare for a relay race, the idea was tossed around of starting a runners club that would meet once a week for a communal dash. The conversation ended with all of us deciding to give it a go. Jason and I ran anyway so why not smack the asphalt with some buddies?
We collectively elected to operate our club with homogeny of responsibility a.k.a. we would take turns “hosting” our runs. The job of choosing locations and arranging our gatherings would alternate between members each week.
Every week Jason insists on taking a picture of our run. This has proven good advertising and has escalated attendance and anticipation.
I offered to create a Facebook group page for us so we would have a means of communicating with each other easily about our meetings. I also took it upon myself, because no one else offered any creative assistance, to name our organization. I decided to call us the R.A.C., an acronym for The Run Around Club. Utterly brilliant, right? Even more brilliant is the hidden joke in that name. For the greater part of my life my family and friends have referred to me as Rac so I kind of named this club after myself. What an ingenious egomaniac I am!
Jason and I offered to plan the R.A.C.’s inaugural run. Only 4 people showed up for that historic sprint but it was enough to get the movement going. I guess I shouldn’t have set everything up and taken all that initial initiative though. Everyone else acclimated very quickly, virtually instantly, to not having to be involved in the scheduling and location selecting. After multiple members shrugged off taking their turn at planning, Jason and I somehow became the “hosts” of every week from now until forever. Alas, why must I be so organized and responsible…and bossy? It almost always comes back to bite me. Jason and I now do pretty much all the coordinating, communicating, strategizing, energizing, and fraternizing for the R.A.C.
Stretching your upper thighs is very important before running, especially when striving to look ridiculous.
Whether due to the perseverance of our group’s great leaders, which I am gratuitously patting myself on the back for, or to the determination of our members, our club has been a huge success. Attendance at the R.A.C. has steadily increased since its inception. In the first month or two we never had more then 4 or 5 runners at each of our meetings but now we usually have about 7. We jogged outside in the fall until the sun set too prematurely to permit this and then we switched to a combo of outdoor Saturday and indoor evening runs. We’ve dashed over all manner of trail and track as we’ve diligently hit the pavement every week. The R.A.C. has only defaulted once and that was while Jason and I were away on vacation and therefore unable to bestow order to the entire universe.
The R.A.C. has proven itself remarkable. It motivates people to be more active than they ever thought they could be persuaded to be and it transforms what some would consider to be a miserable pursuit into a thrilling social experience. As we scuttle along we chat, race each other, and forget that we are actually exercising. The peer pressure and competitive challenge do wonders too I might add. Jason’s the superhero among us and he inspires us, or shames us, into picking up our pace a little. Seeing some club members try to outrun him makes me giggle a bit but keep it up boys.
Jeremy must not have gotten the "jumping" memo. His confused feet were firmly on the ground while the rest of ours were soaring.
I look forward to seeing my friends accomplish that which they didn’t think was possible as the R.A.C. continues to grow and outpace itself. Many of our members have already set lofty goals for themselves to push their progress along. Excellent! Long may the R.A.C. continue to flatten the flabby and firm the infirmed while entertaining all!
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