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Pique n' Your Interest

Unprepared for winter

andrew@piquenewsmagazine.com

So much to say and so little space. I was torn between several subjects this week, from the rise of the winter season tomorrow to the decline of gym etiquette, from the perils of faith-based banking and the effect the NHL strike is having on my downtime. So I decided to combine them all into one big column. It’s a bit of a stretch, so bear with me…

First of all, I don’t think I’ve ever been so completely unprepared heading into snowboard season. On Halloween I spray-painted my old boots red for use in a Strongbad costume (see www.homestarrunner.com for an explanation), and had to replace them over the weekend. Because I won’t have a chance to work them in properly I’m in for a solid month of blisters, numb toes and shooting foot pains, starting right after my first run of the season on Saturday. After five seasons of mangled feet you’d think I’d have learned my lesson.

I also can’t find my gloves, snowpants or goggles. Although I still have a few boxes to prowl through in the crawlspace I have a sinking feeling that I might have mislabeled a garbage bag when I was moving house and accidentally dropped my gear off at the Re-Use-It Centre. You’re welcome, whoever you are – careful because the front pocket zipper tends to get jammed if you open it all the way.

I still have my snowboard, but it badly needs a tune and some P-tex around the edges. I wish it was my rock board, and that I wouldn’t care if I put a few new dings in it over the first few weeks, but in reality it’s my only board. I cringe and cry every time I scrape it over a partially submerged rock.

My bindings are now four years old and if memory serves me correctly, they have developed a habit of popping open under stress. They should probably be replaced as well, before I become the first snowboarder in history to be double ejected out of ratchet bindings.

If all my suspicions are correct, then I have a big day of shopping ahead of me, which I can’t quite afford after a recent trip to Vegas. I thought I had more cash in the bank than I do, not realizing that my landlady had neglected to cash my September rent cheque until mid-October.

Thus ends my long experiment in faith-based banking – I have no idea how much money I have (or don’t have) at any given time. I hereby pledge to read those little receipts from ATMs from now on, no matter how depressing it can be.

From a fitness standpoint, I’m coming into the snowboard season in full slouch. Usually I like to start hitting the gym about two months before opening day to build muscles, do a little stretching, and develop some cardio capacity so I can out-hike the competition to the best powder stashes. This year however I can count the number of times I’ve been to the gym on one hand, starting all of two weeks ago.

Part of the reason I’ve been so lax is the crowd at this time of year, as the gym gets packed with people like me who left their physical conditioning to the last minute.

I don’t like lining up to use the machines, and I don’t like it when people line up at the piece of equipment I’m using. I’ve seen my face in the mirror when I’m doing something strenuous, and my red face and the bulging veins in my neck don’t need an audience.

The worst part of the gym on crowded days is that sour "why me?" look that people get on their faces when they find you on the machine they want to use. Instead of smiling and asking if they can work in with you, they usually stand there, sighing loudly and checking their watch every few seconds. The people who sit on the equipment for hours, staring into space or admiring themselves in the mirror aren’t much better.

Why do I bring up the matter of gym etiquette? Because I’ve already turned back twice this year when I saw how busy it was in the weight room, and I completely gave up trying to go after work. At this rate I’ll never out-hike the competition to the best stashes, and I’ll be left with the sloppy seconds.

Of course there is one shining beacon in all of this and that’s the gleaming tap behind the bar that will take care of all my opening day aches and pains. While many would consider après ski to be a decadent waste of time and money, seasoned experts recognize the holistic beauty of this ritual. Simply put, beer and nachos are therapy, satisfying mind, body and spirit. Beer is a proven muscle relaxant, improves circulation, and is a good source of B6 vitamins. Nachos are a good source of proteins and carbs and fat – not always the good fats, but fats nonetheless. The benefits don’t stop there – green onions are a powerful antioxidant, tomato salsa is an excellent source of Vitamin C, sour cream contains calcium to strengthen your bones, and the capsaicin in the hot peppers will help you to fight colds and flu, battle joint and muscle pain, and increase endorphin production.

As much as I look forward to that first round of nacho therapy, it just won’t be the same this year with the NHL on strike. One thing you could always count on every Saturday after a day on the mountain is CBC’s Hockey Night in Canada. It’s as much a part of the après ritual as the ceremonial loosening of the laces.

So what’s the deal? The players don’t trust the owners when they say they’re losing money, and the owners don’t trust the players enough to open up their books to prove it. This could be solved quite simply if the NHL Player’s Association and NHL owners would only hire an independent auditor to look into league and team finances, and make general reports that leave out sensitive business information. Once all that financial information is on the table, it would be a simple matter for the players to agree to a flexible salary cap that moves up with the NHL’s fortunes – if the league makes money, the cap goes up the following year. If the league loses money, the cap stays the same until the next contract comes up and it can be renegotiated.

Unless both sides back down, it’s going to be a long winter of beer, nachos and curling, tempered by hardcore budgeting, sore muscles, snowboard maintenance and foot pain. I can’t wait!