There's magic in Kinkaid on a frosty afternoon, with sunset pink lighting up the birch trees and deep blue shadows on the snow. On the day that I drew this, I was alone, gliding around curves in perfect silence, feeling fast and stealthy, even though a portly older gentleman passed me in classic tracks. It was a magical moment--gone too soon with the low sunlight--and my imagination filled the woods with forest creatures between the pale rainbows of early twilight.
Cross country skiing has been a source of freedom as I build up the strength in my knee. Last week, my physical therapist let me start doing lunges. When I come in on Monday, she's going to let me jog across the room. The process of getting my knee back from an ACL and double meniscus tear has been a long one: surgery, four months of crutches, and tiny gains in physical therapy. In desperation, I built a sauna in my backyard and switched physical therapists. I'm now finally able to see real, consistent progress every week.
I've been reveling in the joy of snow and the delight of weekly cross country ski dates with my best friend from college. We've been discussing entering the 50K Tour of Anchorage in March. It's an exciting challenge--as she comes back from having a baby this fall and I train to be able to snowboard in the backcountry once again.
Thanks to the NSAA for grooming and maintaining these beautiful trails. They bring us so much joy.