Can you overcome ski anxiety that isn't just physical, but social too?

[slyfox4]

@Leela, welcome!!! Even though you did a follow up to all of the Divas SERIOUSLY amazing advice, I wanted to give my two cents, too.

1. Your day. Your terms. Your skis. Your fun. Your happiness. YOU DO YOU! Seriously! It took me days and years to get where I am, and there were days that I beat myself up for not thinking I was good enough, but in the end I didn't care because I was doing it for me. I was having fun. I got in some sticky situations and thought "this is it, I'm DONE skiing," but then I got down and I'd think "hot diggity damn I DID IT!" and then I would be bursting with happiness. You ski your run how you feel comfortable, I have friends who won't go down a black diamond with me because she knows she isn't ready for it...and that's 100% okay. There have been times that I suggested a trail to my friends and it turned out like absolute crap and I'm essentially yelling "I'M SO SORRY GUYS!" the entire way down. I'm sure your colleagues felt horrible for bringing you down something that you weren't comfortable with.

2. I have friends of all abilities. Not once have I ever thought they were a crap athlete or a poor skier. Everyone starts somewhere, and it's my job as their friend to guide them, give them advice, and cheer them on. Regardless if they're a skier or a snowboarder!

3. Gear...I wouldn't be where I am without the gear I have. No joke, my partner attributes my skills to my Line Pandoras. That ski opened up an entirely new world of feelings and skills for me. My confidence sky rocketed the moment I put those bad Larry's on and zoomed down the mountain. You mentioned getting some newer gear was on your priority list. I would for sure consider demoing some skis on a relaxing day to see how you feel on something different. All of the Divas are great at giving advice on which skis would be great for your ability level and what you want them for. This is always the first place I turn to for advice!

4. I tell this to all of my friends who are getting into skiing or snowboarding. You won't get anywhere until you try something new, and until you get a little out of your comfort zone, BUT, only if you feel that you can do it. It takes courage to face something steep, or bumpy, or filled with trees. But skiing has taught me courage, and to trust in myself. I've learned to understand my own limits, to listen to what my body is saying, to listen to my mind. There were times I've been with ski racer friends who zoom down a black diamond I haven't been down before. I stop at the top. Collect my thoughts, and *ski my own run.*

Skiing is supposed to be fun...don't forget that, ever!

 

[Jenny]

Have fun!

 

[Polly]

Hello Divas,

I just found this great forum yesterday and am hoping someone can empathize with my recent experience. Sorry that this first post is such a long one – it felt a bit cathartic to write.

Background note: I have a lot of social anxiety-related hangups around skiing. I grew up in ski country, but I come from a largely blue-collar family, where the winter pursuits are more likely to be ice fishing or snowmobiling. We did a lot of XC as kids, in phys ed class and so on, but I didn’t get on a pair of alpine skis until my early teens – the absolute worst possible time to start, when your psyche is just a ball of hormones and anxiety. In fact, I had such a horrific day that first time I put the skis on that I didn’t go anywhere near the mountain again until my early 20s. The best skiers around school and my community were by far most often the kids from the wealthiest families. Though my logical brain is well aware this is a generalization – there are great skiers in my own family -- I feel like my lack of skiing ability is a “tell” about my social class and that everyone can read it. (My closest friends with whom I grew up are a mix of ongoing ski lovers, kid skiers who gave it up as adults, and people who never took it up in the first place – and none of them has anything like the hangups I do about this.)

But I want to enjoy skiing on my own terms. I have dabbled, and that is definitely the operative term, in skiing most of my adult life – once or twice a winter, a few lessons here and there in my 20s -- but my logical brain knows full well that my time or resource commitment has not been sufficient to improve, especially because I am not really a natural athlete and I do have a lot of physical fear to overcome. (That said, I went to college with all kinds of kids from “the tri-state area” who apparently somehow learned to be brilliant skiers by doing just what I described, a couple of trips to the mountain each winter. How? How did they do it??? It was always hard to explain to these people why I was not a skier. I dreaded having to do it every time. I’ve come up with all kinds of quarter-century-too-late staircase wit I could have used at age 18, like “Does everyone in Hawaii surf?”)

I lived away from my home state until about four years ago, and when I moved back, I certainly had in mind to ski more. Winters are long here, and getting outside and going up the mountain feels so good. I went out twice this week. Once with my mom, my favorite ski buddy -- we stick to the green trails and have a good time. This has really been all I aspired to for the past few years. My equipment is not very up to date (though addressing this is a priority) and so on.

Unfortunately the outing with Mom lulled me into a false sense of security and I agreed to tag along with colleagues on a ski morning later in the same week. I think the colleague who organized the outing did not understand my explanations that I am not a strong skier, and when I think about that I understand why, because here in a ski-crazy state that could mean anything from “bunny hill preferred” to “I don’t do double black mogul runs but anything else is cool!” Anyway, it was a disaster. It started out OK as we did a green warmup and a blue that I handled OK (though bringing up the rear), but then I was dragged up a second blue trail with VERY variable conditions, and froze halfway down. The one saving grace is that with encouragement from a friendly ski patroller, I very slowly side-slipped my way down and made it to the bottom. Any attempt at correct technique went completely out the window. He had offered at one point to call for the sled, but I am 100% positive that if I had accepted that offer, I would have gotten to the bottom, politely thanked the ski patrol, put my skis in the car, driven home and given up alpine skiing completely for the rest of my life.

I’m now so humiliated that I don’t feel much like interacting with any of my colleagues today, especially the one who organized this outing. If I had it to do over again, I would have asserted myself more and split off from the group earlier, but my colleague was so cheery and insistent that we should all stick together -- and again, I’m pretty sure she didn’t entirely understand my limitations. I sought her out to apologize for yesterday’s mess, and she was kind and apologetic herself -- but I know she now thinks I am a crap athlete and feels sorry for me, and it makes me feel so lousy and left out that I wish I’d never agreed to go with them (my other colleague who protested that she’s “not a strong skier” is really not too bad at all, and I just overheard them enthusing about the runs they did after I went home). I am in my mid-40s, but I felt like a 5-year-old on the mountain yesterday. I’m sitting in my office on my lunch break writing this and trying not to cry, it was so awful. I can’t ever put this back in the box, and the colleagues on this outing with me yesterday will never look at me the same way or vice versa.

How do I figure out how to get better at this sport, gain confidence, and comfortably enjoy it ON MY OWN TERMS (instead of to impress or “stay in line” with other people who I think expect it from me) without constantly feeling like the working-class kid who always got picked toward the end of the line in gym class? Logically I know it will just have to involve a lot of skiing on my own and some private instruction, but I’m even nervous about approaching the latter because if I don’t find an instructor who “gets it,” the lesson could turn into the same kind of nightmare I experienced yesterday.
Any thoughts/reassurances/advice? Books or other content that address skier psyche/anxiety, and possibly particularly in these terms? I feel like this question of social class and how it affects the ski learning experience is a bit of the elephant in the room -- I can’t imagine I’m the only person to have ever felt this way.

Girl, I hear you. I am 36, have only been skiing a a few seasons and had SO MUCH ANXIETY which I recently and finally broke free from. I grew up very humbly and while I wanted to learn to ski, I couldn't as we didn't have the money. Skiing is expensive and there's a couple different sides to ski culture I've learned as well (which didn't help). My fiance is also an expert level skier who initially taught me (plus a few lessons), but the huge fights we'd get in because I'd have panic attacks about the heights (mountain, trail steepness- even a green- lift height, you name it...claustrophobia from all the damn ski gear, etc.) and he just couldn't get it. He also couldn't understand how he'd tell me to do something and I'd try and try and just couldn't do it.

Well, I started going off on my own. I'd get lessons and I'd go alone and I'd go at my own pace. I stayed on the bunny hill until I felt comfortable, then I'd venture to the greens and day after day after day work on those. Then I progressed to blues and so on. In short, skiing is a beautiful thing. Don't listen to the sassy folks, don't compare to those around you. Try to mimic those who are stronger skiers, but don't compare yourself- be you, take some private and group lessons and practice at your own pace in your own time. There are some REALLY good instructors out there and as an instructor, they're trained to understand. When you book a lesson, tell them about your fears and they'll pair you with someone who has experience with that. It really helps, too, to find other folks alone on a mountain trying to learn and make a buddy. It also helps to try and ski mid-week if you can rather than weekends (or Sundays if you have to ski weekends) as it's less populated. I had the WORST anxiety about other skiers on the trails when I was learning. They were EVERYWHERE and I would even stop, on a green slope and freeze and start to panic and cry because I was so scared they were going to hit me. You CAN beat this. I know because I did. Also, please understand that skiing is fun! The more you remind yourself that this is fun, and that this is FOR YOU, the easier it will be to break through little barriers.

Keep at it, don't give up. It's never too late and there's only one way to go- up! (or down, if you're thinking about slopes ;) ) Where are you located btw? Are you in the Northeast??? I'd love to go with you and help you with a few things!

 

[SquidWeaselYay]

Maybe I'll never be as good as the dude-bros born on skis, but maybe they will never know how good it feels to just ski the hell out of a day not caring if you are the best... Or first.... Or whatever....

I'd rather have nothing to prove and nothing to lose than be always striving for perfection and status. I'll take a rag tag group of broke friends on beat to hell gear, cruising the easy stuff over arrogant experts any day.

It's not like that everywhere, and you can reject that culture. Find your tribe and ride!

 

[Obrules15]

Just revisiting this great thread one more time to thank all for encouragement. I do want to make one follow-up comment re the reference to Jerry of the Day (a site I previously didn't know existed, which is probably a good thing). I did a bit of digging around and found an anonymous interview with the guy who started that site. Color me surprised (NOT!): He is from my home state, and he pretty much embodies my critique of the elitism in this sport. US Ski Team-connected family, grew up in a ski town, got on skis as soon as he could walk, check check check. (There's also a reference to his job at a tech company in our area that I can guess even though it isn't named -- a place known for its brotastic culture.) This guy COULD just devote himself to loving skiing, but there is something in the culture here that has driven him instead to devote daily time to making fun of people who are trying it for the first time. It makes me think of Ricky Bobby's motto in "Talladega Nights": "If you ain't first, you're last." That's a completely NOT joking attitude that a lot of elite skiers who learned as very small children have around here -- they can't imagine not being effortlessly brilliant, so they pick on anyone who isn't. And it DOES scare other people away from learning later in life. And that's sad.

But! With the help of all these encouraging comments, I'm gonna continue to pretend stuff like that doesn't exist and forge ahead. ;-) Re the first step in my ski journey from here, upgrading equipment, the coming weekend looks like a possibility for trying out some demo skis (with Favorite Ski Buddy Mom along for moral support). Will keep everyone posted.

It's not that they don't exist, they just don't matter. They are not people that you want to become like, so why ever hold yourself to their standards.

Remember, they are who they are because of their value system. If you internalize that you are taking on their values. If someone in the KKK who has lynched 8 people disapproves of you, are you upset? No, because those are not the values you've chosen to live by.

By the same token, if someone who revels in the elitism of skiing disapproves of you, are you upset? No, again because those are not the values you've chosen to live by.

I may not be saying this well, but basically you have such an amazing journey ahead of you, please don't let anybody else get you down......

 

[Leela]

@Obrules15 I totally get your meaning! I have had a lifelong struggle to cast off the constant worry about what others do or don't see when they look at me. But this discussion is helping me remember that when I've pushed myself (especially in terms of physical limits!) and ignored that fear of judgment, I've found happiness. I was the "kid who brought up the rear" on my high school's cross-country team, and I remember that time with a lot of angst. But then I took up running again in my early 30s, and found that it was a joy to test myself as I trained for each race, even though I was still toward the back of the pack (who cares, because plenty of other people were too, and the point is we were all out there on the course). With the right approach and preparation, I know skiing can do the same for me. The other parallel is to coaching/instruction -- once my goals got up to longer runs, I did best when I signed up for a training group.

 

[Mistletoes]

Your story hits home with me. I took up skiing 4 years ago since my husband and kids are into it. I spent almost the entire first year on the bunny hill. Second year finally started taking the chair to green terrain. This year I am doing a women's camp which is helping a ton. But I had some SEVERE anxiety at first. I would be terrified on easy terrain and if it was crowded, forget it. I was lucky to have a good friend who met me midweek to ski together. She reminded me to look up and enjoy the view! We'd also shake our hips and butts to loosen up. We looked silly but I didn't care. It got me out of my head! These minor tweaks made skiing fun. BTW, there's nothing wrong with bringing up the rear, that's my MO

 

[Randi M.]

You wanna know something funny? I grew up as one of those kids who went skiing two or three times a year and was given all the lessons, and I have an inferiority complex vis a vis the working class locals. In my mind, I'm just a pretender tourist and those people -- the ones who can ski mid-week or on non-holiday weekends, who learn through time on the slopes and tips from friends rather than paid lessons and who earn their season passes by working at the mountain -- are the REAL skiers. They are the lifeblood of the mountain, and I'm just passing through.

ETA: The point, of course, is that so much of skiing (and skiing is so often just a metaphor for life) is perspective.