The routine: An appealing and deceitful character. Like a truly great friend, the routine will always be there. It is never cruel, never demanding and always humble. Yet its crimes are incremental, constantly pouring sand into a finite glass.
Today I broke my routine. I knew I would when my third alarm rang and I looked outside. It was snowing. Today I would not wear the slowly fading sneakers I bought online a few months ago. Today I would wear boots.
For anyone who grew up skiing, and especially those that grew up on the East, you will be familiar with that unique hunger that arises during the first good downfall. Coworkers and friends share the latest gnar on YouTube. Exaggerated stories and photos from old powder days are dug up. Memories of daring moments bring forth a new swagger, and that swagger beckons courage for the season ahead. Each year the playlist changes and the routine is broken.
This year, this year will be the year I carve harder, huck higher, and generally toss my body to the mountain.