Skiing and Rheumatoid Disease

As regular readers of this blog will know, in 2010 my partner and I fulfilled our dream of living close to the mountains, giving us the chance to ski all season, every season. Our home hill is Grand Tourmalet in the Hautes Pyrénées, the largest ski area in the French Pyrenees and straddling the famous Col du Tourmalet. 

The cafe at the Col du Tourmalet

For the first couple of seasons our dream was exactly that, we could pick and choose the days we went out, avoiding the busy periods and quickly finding the powder stashes! The 2012-13 season was utterly epic with vast amounts of snow falling throughout the winter and even the closing day in April was a perfect day of fresh powder, the mountains echoing to the whoops and shouts of happy skiers and boarders. I recall thinking that even if I never skied again, I would be happy having experienced the best season of my life.

Be careful what you wish for! Suffice it to say that one swollen knee in August of that year was joined by the second in October and by December I was virtually housebound with excruciating pain in my ankles, knees, shoulders, wrists and elbows. You can read my blog diary of that miserable time here if you wish. I missed the entire ski season, mostly too doped up to be aware of very much, but having got a diagnosis of sero-negative rheumatoid arthritis in the spring and begun a probable lifetime of drug treatment in early summer, my thoughts were turning to the next ski season. 

Fit to ski I was not, but at least my beloved custom fit Atomic ski boots did still fit, despite some damage to my feet. My greatest fear was that my knees would simply buckle under the pressure and disintegrate if I fell. I knew that getting up should I fall, which given my loss of muscle and overall weakness was inevitable, was going to be very difficult. I struggled to get up when I fell over in the garden, after all!

19th December 2014 and back on skis!

Needless to say, I managed just fine after the very first wobbly snowplough down a green run, although I had to take painkillers for the knees after the first hour and a half and went home after only two and a half. But given that twelve months previously I struggled to walk from one end of the house to the other, I'd call it a good day. I cried!

By the end of the season I could go a whole day with a stop for lunch. Although I was still taking it easy, I could feel myself getting stronger and even ventured onto some unpisted runs and bumps by late March. As I write, we are reaching the end of my second season back; the last day at Grand Tourmalet has been and gone, although we spent it down the road at Peyragudes.

Enjoying the empty slopes of Peyragudes, April 2016

I now feel confident to tackle any piste again, groomed or otherwise and happily drop into the off piste. My plans to try ski touring next season are back on track, as are those for a once in a lifetime trip to the powder heaven which is Japan.

But is hasn't all been straightforward. Rheumatoid Disease may no longer be the major controlling aspect of my life, thanks in large to methotrexate and the swift intervention of the medical specialists, but I still have to listen to my body all the time. We may have had forty centimetres of fresh overnight, but if I'm having a flare or episode of severe fatigue (which has little to do with tiredness) then I won't be going up on the hill.

Falling is an ever present worry. A month after a heavy fall onto one shoulder, it is still painful so recovery seems to be a much slower process. And there is also the humiliation of not being able to get up if I fall on a gentle slope. I can't get my feet under my butt and just don't have the power in my arms to push myself up with my poles, either. In the old days I could simply stand up with thigh power alone. Indeed I was normally back up before I'd stopped sliding. Now I have to request assistance from my other half or even a passer-by if he has gone on down! A good reason for sticking to the steeps where getting up is much easier. Or not fall at all, but that would mean I'm not pushing myself, and that is something else I will never give up.