Morzine Source Summer 19 ISSUU

32
www.morzinesourcemagazine.com
FORGET ASPIRING,
START INSPIRING
…and relax
BY NATALIE ELVY
My father died before he retired. Ever since, I’ve tried to pack as much into
my life as I can. Do everything. I never worried about getting older, I was
just grateful to have time. But now that I’m approaching 40, I’ve noticed
I’m beginning to feel a bit panicky; there’s so much I should be doing and
now I’m noticing a time pressure I hadn’t felt before. While living in Morzine
has opened the door to an action-packed world of activities, it can be
overwhelming. I feel I have no idea how to make the most of it all.
The menu of potential activities
here is long: world class skiing, ice
climbing, ski touring, kayaking,
canyoning, biking, hiking,
open water swimming, rafting,
hydrospeeding. There are things
to do in winter, spring, summer
and autumn, during the day or at
night, on the piste, off the piste, on
the mountain, in the river, in the
air. There are art classes, French
classes, cooking classes, yoga
classes, spinning… it’s endless.
Inevitably, with all these
activities on the doorstep, many
intimidatingly active people have
either grown up, or been drawn
here. People who think nothing of
doing quick tours (on skis, bikes,
snow shoes, trainers) up various
mountains before work / at night, in
any weather. The standard is high.
People work flat-out all week, then
complete gruelling races that seem
to take place around the area every
weekend. Then they return to work
having done the shopping, cleaned
and dropped off multiple children at
creche, without even a mention of a
blister or stiff muscles. I feel I too
should be making the most of it and
doing it well. Everyone else manages
it.
In the UK I ticked boxes and
followed a well-trodden, littleexamined
life path, that I filled
with enjoyable activities I’d sought
out and liked doing. I thought I
was pretty remarkable for having
travelled a bit. I thought I was
pretty fit as I went swimming
before work. Here, surrounded by
Duracell bunnies making the most
of everything the mountains have
to offer, it didn’t take me long to
realise I wasn’t nearly as fit or
competent as I’d thought.
It’s humbling to admit to being
average, but I did so to my husband
(a rafting guide, canyoning guide
and ski patroller, i.e. someone who
makes the most of the valley). I told
him I was disappointed with myself
because I’ve lived here ten years and
I’m still not very good at anything.
I’m a terrible climber, I don’t really
like canyoning, I can’t kayak and my
son (who’s five) is more at home on
the snow than me, and speaks better
French. All this underachievement
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