A day of cross-country skiing has many benefits. First, there is something profoundly peaceful about gliding through a forest that has been hushed by a beguiling shroud of snow. Second, the amount of energy slowly and (almost) unnoticeably expended warrants an apres-ski meal that is life affirming, such as a traditional Gruyere and Emmenthaler fondue (yes, fondue can be eaten anytime, but so can wedding cake and Eucharist wafers.)
But the most tangible advantage to XC skiing is sweat. Yesterday, we journeyed to Waterville Valley, NH – the closest Nordic center with enough snow to have open trails. The temperature was 8 and the wind gusts reached 40 mph (“feels like -15”). When preparing to venture into such conditions for several hours, the instinct to swaddle one’s self in layers of wool is fierce. However, after ten minutes on the trail, the simultaneous arm and legs movements cannot fail to generate feelings of toasty contentment even in negative wind-chills. (Happening upon a yurt also helps).
