Back on the flat

Had a great long weekend in Courchevel. Hadn't really had time to get excited about it so it all seemed a bit unreal until I got off the plane and was met by Al, who had gamely driven the two hours to pick me up. We had a leisurely drive back in Norman the van (also gamely coping with the hills), stopping for a fab lunch of salad - that typically French salad with about 2,000 calories because it was drenched in dressing and came with egg and cheese and ham and other good things.

Al's sharing a flat just down the hill from Le Praz with two ski instructor friends. A nice flat but the shower did remind me a bit of The Swamp from first year at uni. The boys were lovely and Adrian had even swapped rooms with Al for the duration so we could have a double bed. Went out with some other friends and had fondue. Mmmm, dippy dippy cheesey cheese.

Set off up the slopes the next day in some trepidation, it being two years since I last set foot on snow, and then only for a couple of days. All I could remember was being very bruised. Unfortunately one of the lifts was closed so we couldn't go straight to the nursery slope but had a take a different lift and traverse across. This traverse wasn't steep at all but it was very narrow, which meant I couldn't get going at all on the board and was soon feeling very frustrated. It took me about three hours to inch my way down, by which time I was fed up and Al was feeling very guilty for overfacing me (bless him for thinking I was anywhere near capable - I must have improved immeasurably in his imagination).

Met up with Adrian and a friend at lunch and, restored by a gorgeous goats cheese sandwich (the food was a feature of this holiday!) and the promise of nice flat wide slopes, I tried again at the nursery. Al was temporarily banished and Adrian, a qualified snowboard instructor, helpfully reminded me of all the things I'd learnt last time. Confident enough that I could at least side-slide down the steeper bits, we managed a final run before calling it a day and taking the lift to the highest point to admire the view.

Had a great dinner that night at the one posh(ish) restaurant in Le Praz - full of French people, which was a good sign. We shared a starter of three different fois gras, their speciality, which was mouthwateringly good. Then I had the best steak ever, cooked exactly how I like it, half way between rare and medium rare. The waitress actively encouraged me to be more specific about how I wanted it. I love this about France. At regular intervals through the rest of the holiday I would stop and remember this steak.

Did I mention it came with dauphinoise potatoes?

Anyway, back to the ski-ing...

Having grumped about the snowboard the day before, I was keen to see if ski-ing would be any less frustrating. Al's pal Jim runs a ski hire company (it is great having a boyfriend who knows everyone) and lent me a pair. We ventured off again - straight to the nursery this time - and lo! It was the easiest thing ever! I was amazed. Not only did it save having to hop around in ankle-twisting agony on flat bits, but I could also a) steer and b) stop. Marvellous. After just a couple of practises we were on to the green runs, where I spent the rest of the day happily ski-ing excruciatingly slowly, while Al skied backwards and sideways and upside down around me. Then he went off to try his new skis on a black run and by the time he came back I'd sped up ever so slightly. The only downside was that the ski boots were even more uncomfortable than snowboard boots and left my feet really sore.

Day three we set out on greens before arriving at a spot where there was supposed to be a green but wasn't. So we went on 'Indians', a piste that has been themed for the kids with pictures of native American leaders (called, in French, 'Le Chef') and wigwams. It began with an inauspicious initial plunge, down which I did the world's slowest snowplough - think glacial speed. 'I thought you said this was for kids!' I screeched, 'It's terrifying!'. At which point, of course, a posse of three year olds zipped by, followed by a teenager on her mobile phone.

After this it was fine, however, and we celebrated with tartiflette for lunch (very nice too, though I am still slightly annoyed that this dish, which I though I had invented myself at university, is so well known). We skied blues the rest of the day - actually, Al was on his snowboard that day so had enough to keep him occupied too. I really enjoyed it, though my continued lack of velocity meant I had to add my own 'speeding car' and 'screeching brakes' sound effects. So I would complete an extremely controlled turn, inch my way gradually over to where Al was waiting, creep to an imperceptible stop and then announce my arrival to the bemused boy with a cheery 'Screeeeee!'

So that was my ski-ing experience and I was sad to have to leave without learning more. Maybe next year I'll get a whole week and some proper lessons.

Back to work today, and it feels like I've never been away. Headed for the gym at half five and got as far as parking the car before realising I'd left my kit at home. So drove home and went for an outdoor run instead. It's foul weather - dark, wind and rain - and I cursed my stupidity for the first ten minutes, before sort of getting into it and gaining some perverse pleasure from tanking it past miserable-looking folk waiting at bus stops. After all, I was so wet a few more puddles wouldn't hurt.

Was aiming for the 7.2 mile Easter Road and Arthur's Seat loop, but it was pitch black at the park and I was convinced for a while that an innocent dog walker was stalking me, so I only ran up to the roundabout and turned around. Giving me a total of 6.7 miles in exactly an hour (timed by looking at my mobile before leaving and on return, since not even Geneva airport can provide a battery for my watch). Not bad: same speed as when I did the full 7.2 miles but with less of a hill. But in much worse weather - at one point I had to cup my hands over my mouth to be able to breathe in the gusts of wind. I would have aimed for 6.8 mph at the gym.

Speed work tomorrow and hills on Friday. Have decided to aim for 1.50 for the Edinburgh Half Marathon. I'll be happy with 1.55 though, at this stage in my training. And will need 1.40 for Dunfermline.

Spell check is working again: it suggest tartiflette should be trifled or titillate. I think both.