Old dog.

I'm so sick of that cat Gary, I'm moving on to another topic for now; old dogs. And by that, naturally, I mean me!

So can you teach an old dog new tricks?

If I was a dog, this really could be me!!!

I was contemplating exactly this as I practised my tennis serve last week.

Elle and I had 10 lessons over a few months late last year and even the coach said that what would really help was not more lessons, but more practice putting what we'd learnt into practice. Let's see how that goes in 2016! But while I was trying to serve with a grip that felt very unfamiliar, I did wonder how much you're expected to take out of lessons. I was told a lot of things over the 10 hours and I'm not convinced I retained that much at all.

We had a ski guide for half a day in Japan a couple of years ago. I'd previously avoided ski lessons. I know I'm pretty crap and about as stylish as baked beans on toast, but I'm also okay with that. I'm 'comfortable'. So it was a bit of a surprise when the guide turned out to be much more instructor than expected. Still, it did make me think a bit harder about technique although again, I'm not sure I retained a hell of a lot.

Last year I had my running technique reviewed in the hope I could lift my pace. I'm now quite the expert on the theory - but sadly, my practise isn't much improved. I know what I need to do and frankly, being a heck of lot fitter would probably be a good start!!

And finally there's rowing. Not exactly the kind of sport you can pop out and practice on your own, but with an hours intense coaching every week or two, I think that's the one activity that I have shown some significant improvement - or maybe it was just relative to where I started?!

Have you had lessons for anything? How much did you take away? Please share!

So you think you can ski?

It's true. I thought I could ski.

Okay - I didn't start until I was in uni, but a season as a chalet girl in Italy ended with us being able to ski a gorge that we'd hiked for a couple of hours to reach. Yes, it was extremely scary, but also exhilarating. I've not done anything like that since but I did feel it had left me a 'capable' skier.

After that there were several skiing weekends with work and friends and when George and Jaz - and then Elle -  were little, we spent five days skiing with family friends at Mt Buller for seven consecutive years.

This last Christmas we skied in Japan. And now we're in Queensland, New Zealand.

Our first day was at Coronet Peak. Elle and I joined the guided tour after lunch with a few others and we all described ourselves as 'intermediate'. In truth, we were a bit better than one couple and probably on par with the others (guides excluded!). So weren't we surprised when our next ski day at Treble Cone proved we can't ski to save ourselves.

Having done a couple of warm up runs in the home bowl and  checked Sass into ski school, we moved over to the second bowl over the back and O...M...G. It didn't look that challenging from the chair lift so I skied straight over the front - cautiously followed by Elle and Geoff. It was an ungroomed Red run - so not even Black, the most difficult. (We've now come to realise that Black isn't a standard and when the snow is a bit crunchy and ungroomed it can be the difference between do-able and down-right dangerous!) It was so steep and the snow so unforgiving and I was so fearful of falling, I couldn't turn and actually had to sit down on my bottom and flip my skis back the other way. How embarrassing.....

Ignore my religious-looking head gear and check out the scenery - amazing!

We eventually managed to pick our way down to a point where we could get back onto a groomed piste only to be further humiliated by a kid who I swear was 5, shoot past us at the speed of light, his mum and siblings calmly swooshing after him. We looked like absolute amateurs.

But as the day wore on, something started to become clearer.... everyone we met on the chair lifts were locals. Okay - one guy was from Australia - but he was working there having done three seasons at Thredbo - so he might as well have been local. I shared a lift with an older guy who was complaining heli-skiing was ruined by people who can't ski. I thought he was boasting to his companion but it was also revealed he's a guide for the 'back country' - ie of the map.

At lunch, (a delicious NZ$18 pork belly with apple gravy, glazed carrots, peas and onion and garlic roasted baby potatoes no less!) we noticed all the families knew each other. We were clearly tourists.

We've since skied The Remarkable (rudely dubbed 'Unremarkable' by a Treble Cone local) and Cardrona so have our confidence back - just.

Sieze The Day

Such a cliche, but so true. And I'm now realising why this concept of mindfulness and being in the moment is so incredibly important.

It's a frightening realisation that you don't remember most of your life. In fact, far less than 1%. Some would suggest it's as little as .001%. Of course it varies from person to person - many of my university friends wish I didn't remember as much and I certainly wish Geoff would remember more... but it's somewhere in that ball park.

Think that can't possibly be true? Well, what did you have for lunch on Tuesday two weeks ago? Unless it was your birthday or some other differentiating day, chances are you'll have no idea. Those ordinary days just all blend in together. So you need to be mindful of today and now - because all too often it doesn't mean anything else.

And even with what we do remember, there's much speculation around it's accuracy. Is that actually what happened or is that just our version that has evolved over time? Who knows.

I guess in the current era, we all have more evidence  - the extraordinary amount of photos and video.
Here's an amazing pictorial on the rate of photos taken by the world, ever. We've taken half of the pics ever to exist in the last 4 years - and most of those are on mobile phones.

But it does concern me. That time is passing by and I'll remember nothing of this winter save a couple of lovely catch ups with family and friends. So that was my motivation to get up at 4am on Saturday to go skiing and to get Geoff to organise footy tickets for next weekend.

When George and Jaz were with us, these periods of stability and nothing-ness were treasured, but now they just make me restless. I find myself trying to remember details of my grandmother's house or a hotel in Egypt or the lodge I worked at in Scotland...

How about you? Are you accepting of this situation or like me, do you try and recall what you can while always knowing you can't remember what you've forgotten?

Skiing

Last Saturday I got up at 3.30am to take the 12 year old and my 15 year old “nephew” (one of the relatives-who’s-not-related) skiing for the day. It was a 3 ½ hour winding drive in the dark and fog, but was well worth it when we arrived in brilliant sunshine.

I’d not been to Mt Buller for many years – since the friends we used to go with so rudely moved to the UK for 5 years (yes Penny, I’m talking about you!) When the kids were little, we had seven very happy consecutive years when we went for a week with a whole pile of families.

It turned out to be quite do-able for a day and next time I’ll even take the little one and pop her into ski school for the day.

I put the 12 year old into a lesson, as she hadn’t skied since the shopping mall in Dubai at Christmas – and that’s not quite the same thing. My nephew and I are pretty well matched so managed to get in some good runs before collecting her. In my usual gentle mothering style, I then insisted she just come with us and promised we wouldn’t do any black runs, just blue.

“It looks really steep!” she moaned.

“Oh for god’s sake you’ll be fine! Just get on the lift,” I said in my short tone used on the kids when they're being wimpy.

And of course she was fine, keeping up with a thigh-burning snow plough!

When we got home, the little one said, ‘How was the skiing? Was it inside or outside?’ Yes, she too was last at the Dubai mall……