Injuries: The Great Hinderment

I posted this on Outdoor Women, as well, but to those of you who do not belong to that, here you go....

2.5 weeks ago I experienced the mind-numbing pain of the infamous sprained ankle. Not just any type of sprain, however. A contusion caused by severe impact.

I had just put together a training program for spring-time fun, which consisted of a bike trainer and resistance tubes, when a ski day brought my program to a halt. Knowing that my ski boots needed to be replaced (which I've been complaining about forever) I have continued to ski in them as no monetary donations have come to my aid in purchasing a new pair.

Monday, the 21st of January, I peered out the windows of the condo at Snowbird (ahem...timeshare) to witness the immense world of white beyond our confines. Night storms had blanketed us with seventeen inches of light Utah powder. YEE-HAW!! To top off the excitement, I was skiing on a free ticket!

We geared up and got out there. The thrill of powder spraying my face was dampered as I fought to keep my heels grounded within my boots. Every off-piste turn was a conscious effort. Swishh....*keep heels down, keep heels down*....swish....*keep heels down....

It was laborious. My muscles ached from fighting my skis as they were pushed under the weight of the snow, boots in tow- but with my feet not entirely part of the process. However, this was not a day to give up on simply because your gear sucked. This was free powder, up for grabs. All I needed was a little break, I told myself, and I'd finish the afternoon.

Lunch is always a perfect excuse for those of us who have become weary and need a breather and I used it. After gathering at the top of the lift line to ascertain what the best route to the lodge was, we headed down a groomed run- or what had previously been groomed. It was a easy blue run; the kind which I am fond of making long, sweeping arcs down at speed so that the gravitational pull keeps the adrenaline factor pumping. It makes it a kinda "one-slip-and-something-on-you-is-gonna-hurt-if-you-don't-slow-down" sort of run. "Spiced Up Blues" I like to call them.

Thinking it was pretty well packed snow on this run (it being a major thoroughfare and previously groomed) I discarded my mantra of heel instructions and threw myself into making some glorious turns. Straight for a moment then turn- a light one. Get a little speed going. Second turn- starting to feel a little more force. Third turn- lay the skis over and get ready to carve into the fourth turn... Fourth turn- I'm on one ski falling forward as my heel comes partially out of the boot still attached to a ski. Down I go, hard, over my sideways ski and ...... intense pain.

Tears roll down my cheeks. Not just from the embarrassment of five other people staring at me and now coming towards me with the remains I left uphill, but mainly because of the excrutiating pain searing in my left ankle. I'm unable to yell loud enough to get the rest of my group's attention as they unknowingly continue their happy journey down the hill. As I watch them ski out of view, I turn my attention to two women coming towards me with my skis (the other came off when I landed). "It's okay!" they yell, explaining that they've got my skis for me. I try vainly to explain I need ski patrol, but they are happy helpers, ready to get me back on my skis to be on my merry way. Thank goodness for the kind people at the resorts, but gracious, if they just don't recognize when someone ACTUALLY needs help! I yell up hill twice that I don't care right now about my skis- pleeeeaaaase get ski patrol and twice they ignore me as they hold up my skis to show they've got them.

They reach my side and I whimper. They finally recognize something is wrong and reassure me that they will get help. Then, they directly proceed- both of them- to set up my skis in the classic "X" marking a downed skier. But really- did it take both of them to set up that? Couldn't ONE of them have hurried off while the other, with two capable hands and in no horrible pain, set up the beautiful monument dedicated to me? But now I just sound bitter.

To make a long story short: I was taken down in a toboggan (third time in my skiing life, pro at it by now) and straight to the Snowbird clinic to be examined. Along the way, I heard the ski patrollers assigned to me yell things to each other like "I don't feel comfortable! Slow down!" or "Put the lever down, we're going to fast! There's too many people!!". Comforting. I do want to commend them on their quick response, however, and their true concern. Good people.

Although a particular ski patroller nearly insisted I fractured my ankle, I was informed that it was a mighty nice sprain accompanied by a contusion (a deep bruising resulting from a very heavy impact). Basically my ankle was going to swell up to the size of a small melon and was going to be roughly the color of eggplant. And so it was.