Skiing never stopped at the bottom of the slope: an insight into an instructor’s dinner plans.
Most guests may be familiar with an instructor’s daily routine: Catching either a ski bus or the first lift to get up the mountain and make it to their guest’s pick-up in time. After spending a few productive hours on the slopes and enjoying Arlberg’s “Kaiserwetter “at lunch, your instructor might find some time to work on their turns themselves. But what does a ski instructor do once the lifts are closed?
Mostly, a ski instructor’s time off may not seem too different from every other person’s. As most instructors are “outdoorsy “and love to be active, catching up with your workout plan or meeting some colleagues for a climbing session is something you will witness a lot.
Living in an 18-person ski instructor house – the most beautiful at the Arlberg – was quite an adventure. One of the most important and genuinely characterizing aspects of becoming a ski instructor was diving into a world where one great passion was shared: skiing. Not only did we have a sport in common, but hand in hand with this joined passion came sharing specific ideas and ways to look at life and to live life. I collected several stories in this particular surrounding, some entertaining and funny, others touching and eye-opening. The following may allow a glimpse into evenings in an instructor’s life.
Five ski instructors – keep in mind adults – sitting around a dinner table, and rather than chatting about the adventures of the day, plans and goals in life, political subjects, or just light, small, we energetically discussed what is considered a skier’s best friend and worst enemy: the alpine essential position. Along with me, three younger colleagues,, and two ski guides, we were lucky enough to live together, bringing knowledge and experience of inestimable value to the table. Expecting a laid-back evening alongside some drinks and card games – the usual post-work routine, we had become part of a conversation about instructing that would turn into a show. I knew I would start a fire by asking for typical exercises to introduce guests to the alpine essential position – fully conscious of who I had assembled around me. Pure knowledge, experience, and skill embodied by the ski guides meet our seemingly endless/evergreen curiosity, a desire to learn, and a little naivety. Let the show begin.
The little “ski talk “began calmly, with everyone throwing in some bits. Suggesting exercises such as the “flag carrier “and asking if skiing on one ski had been tried. Unaware of what would follow, a question was raised. Simple and innocent. “How exactly would you describe the alpine basic position if you were to introduce a guest to it? “Whilst a colleague came up with a relatively simple but fitting description similar to what I had learned during my instructor’s course, I could already see the faces of my more experienced colleagues lose their relaxed, friendly expressions. Their eyes slowly squinting.
“Sure! I did the same thing, but it did not seem to work. Although I was trying to explain the “Fahrverhalten “in tiny details, portraying what it was supposed to look like. “. Their eyes squinted even harder, making me understand they were unhappy with what I did as if their skier’s heart started bleeding. “My guest did not know how to put the theoretical instructions into practice. “The most practical explanation is what skiing is supposed to look like from the outer perspective. However, as I was about to learn shortly after, that was utterly wrong – horribly wrong.
Instead, you should understand and explain what it feels like. “How are you supposed to know what you look like from the outside?! It’s so simple! “. I had to admit, it had something valid to it. “Come on. Think of it like this: When kids learn how to walk, do you tell them how to bend their joints properly? You don’t! Skiing is something that we should start seeing from the inner perspective.
Think of yourself skiing. Do you see yourself from the outside rushing among the trees, or do you see the 2/2 slope, the trees, and everything else rushing towards you? “And suddenly, it made perfect sense. I had barely heard someone talk about skiing so passionately. I was putting so much energy and meaning into it. He truly wanted you to understand that feeling, to see the same in skiing as he did. For you to benefit from it, not him. And I did. It took me a moment to get used to changing my perspective right here, but it was nothing but true.
Of course, I never think of myself from the outside when I’m skiing. I see everything rushing towards me and me making my way through as if I were the centre of the resort. The realization was violently interrupted only seconds later as another colleague suddenly pulled out a beer cradle, energetically putting (jumping?throwing?) one leg on top to imitate a slopes angle, and got himself into an alpine essential position.
Sharing my head in both disbelief/confusion and Begeisterung. I followed him in his explanation while three men surrounded him. He suggested moving another joint to see if he felt this or that. Our discussion wasn’t finished there (natürlich, of course), but once again, I realized that the snow sports mentality is never limited to the extent of the slope but will always influence everyday life as an instructor. Even the dinner plans can be disrupted by it. Some days, you will have an energetic and surprisingly eventful discussion about ski technique.
But not to worry: most evenings, you won’t.
Ann-Marit Micheel – Ski instructor from Germany
Picture Kristof Stursa
