Now I've gone and done it...

So I've finally taken up the offer and purchased 12 personal training sessions for the price of 10 (well the Other Half has but doesn't know it yet).  They're canny these gyms aren't they?  It's January, we're all feeling a little fatter and unfit so let's entice them in and whip their butts!  It is a home for masochists and sadists.

Nevertheless, I am keen this year not to repeat the embarrassing skiing incident of last year and I will need a lot of work on my thighs in order to avoid it.  Valloire in the French Alps is an absolutely beautiful small village-like high altitude ski resort where the two main ski lifts leave from the centre of the village.  Very civilised - seats and everything.  I only learnt to ski 3 years ago (after my shoulder replacement and being advised not to by the physiotherapist) because I was bored sitting at the bottom of the slopes waiting for my family to come down the mountain.  After an hour's lesson on the icy 'baby slope' and with the Other Half taken to bed by La Grippe (flu) I bravely offered to accompany the kids down the mountain on our last day, so as to let them get the most out of our week.  What I didn't appreciate was that a blue slope is in fact more difficult to navigate than a green slope (I had them the other way around in my head).  It took over an hour and much coaxing from Girlie and The Boy to limp down the mountain, with much screaming as we went.  I made it down without falling over though until I foolishly celebrated at the bottom by punching the air, unbalancing myself and sliding (rather gracefully I must say) to the ground.  Getting up is not my strong point.

And so to last year when, with my skiing ability now bursting beyond the tame green slopes, firmly into the blue (and even a short red by the end of the week), I was encouraged by the Other Half to try a new route up the mountain - a chair lift.  I didn't find getting on particularly difficult and the narrow suspended bench flew around to scoop us up; stressful anticipation but not difficult.  At the top it was another story.  Not only does the hand bar have to be pushed up whilst you are still far to high above the ground (extremely unnerving when you have vertigo) but everyone assumes that getting off will be just as easy - you must have done it before right?

Oh dear

The Other Half instructed, 'when your skis feel the ground just stand up and you will slide forwards'.  Sounds easy enough until I tried to stand up and absolutely nothing happened!  Yep: total thigh muscle failure. Instead, my bum slipped from the bench and onto the icing 'runway' and I slid (again rather gracefully) along the ground.  I'm sure I heard a French expletive and the next thing I knew was that the chair lift had been halted (cue a collective gasp from the poor sods still on it which echoed across the valleys).  Lots of upright skiers hanging about at the top (why do they do that - just to laugh at people like me?) helpfully advised me to 'get up' - no chance.  Finally the lift operator skidded towards me and hoisted me up under my arms (I have no idea how to say 'don't do that, the left one's bionic and might pop out' in French).  The Other Half just laughed.

No, I need to work hard over the next 5 weeks to get those thighs stronger - apparently there are many more chair lifts in Serre Chevalier - this year's destination.

Help!!