I've attempted to start my review of The Endurance Society's snow shoe/ski/sled race, Frigus about a dozen times now. In fact, I've already rewritten this paragraph three times now. Nothing seems to be clicking and what should be a simple write up about an exciting new event by the masterminds behind The Death Race has become an exercise in frustration. I don't get it. Maybe I'll try again later.
03/02/15 7:47 pm
Okay, here's the thing. I've been looking at this all wrong. As I mentioned in my last post, this was the first event that I'd entered completely unprepared for. Skis and snowshoes might as well have been alien artifacts, and while I'm familiar with that fluffy cold white stuff, it tended to be something that happened to other people.
So, while there were a couple of hundred people with me in the snowy mountains around Blueberry Hill Ski Center this weekend, I wasn't at a race.
Let me explain. The people who came to Frigus are like a family to me. Some of them I talk to all the time, while others I only know in passing, like the proverbial mother's sister's aunt's grandma whose name always escapes you.
But every now and then, we all end up in the same location. We meet new cousins and reminisce about missing members. We share in each other's triumphs and commiserate over our failures. We share hugs and tears, drink too much and laugh even more. In the end, we promise to visit more often, even though we know it probably won't happen.
And somehow, in the middle of it all, we (at least in a metaphorical sense) push ourselves away from the grown up's table and go run around like a bunch of wild ass kids.
So yeah, Frigus wasn't a race.
It was a reunion. One that I sorely needed. I've missed and love you all.
Let's do it again soon.