Pam, Angela, and I went cross-country skiing in Central Washington. My rental skis and poles were too long and the boots too tight—a total drag. I didn't weigh enough to press the length of the skis into the snow to gain any sort of useful traction. I slipped all over the place, and scampering uphill was impossible. Also, once my feet were locked in the bindings, I realized what a precarious situation it was for recovering knees. I made my friends—marathon and half-marathon runners that they are—turn back early. I was glad to be out in the snow though.