What has skiing got to do with writing?

I'm branching away from my normal writing themed posts today, as in light of my recent spell instructing skiing (I've been away teaching the Army for two weeks), I wanted to talk about something else - skiing, and its dubious link to writing.

Firstly though, I feel there's a question to answer - how does a kid who grew up on a council estate on free school meals in northern England end up teaching wealthy Londoners to ski?  That's a long story, but I'll try to keep it brief.

It all began back when I was 19, when I quit my university degree to join the Regular Army.  I was studying mechanical engineering, which sounded cool when I chose it, but I rapidly realised my aptitude for maths didn't quite compliment my often half-arsed approach to study.  In other words, I realised that if I was going to pass, I'd have to work hard, bloody hard.  And I wasn't terribly keen on that, so I quit before I failed and trotted off to the Army Officer Selection Board, known to most as AOSB. 

I didn't fail, but I didn't get the grade I wanted.  At AOSB you can get a category 1, 2, 3 or 4.  1 means go straight to the next stage of selection, 2 means you can go, but you have some stuff to work on first (I won't bore you with what 3 and 4 mean, the details are online if you want them).  I got a category 2, and was told I had to wait 12 months to go to the next phase of selection.  I was a little stumped.  "Now what?"  I thought. 

Some of the feedback I got from my assessment said that I needed to get a bit more stuff on my CV, like exciting stuff.  The kind of things that rich kids have as standard because their parents could afford to pay for it.  All I had were a load of part time jobs on my CV and little else.

In light of this feedback I started looking for random jobs abroad, something with a little adventure attached that wouldn't cost me anything and would sound slightly more exciting on my CV than 'barmaid at local pub'.  I came across some jobs as Chalet Assistants in ski resorts in the French Alps - all expenses paid and £50 a week spending money.  Sounded perfect.  I applied, I got a job, and off I went.

I should note, that back then I knew nothing about skiing.  Skiing was for rich folk.  I didn't even know anyone who knew about skiing.  I remember seeing 'salopettes' on the kit list and not having a clue what they were.  I set off to France without even the clothing I needed to go skiing. In the winter of 2004-5 I began my ski season.  Lift pass paid, ski hire paid, accommodation and food all paid with £50 beer money a week in return for cleaning rooms, serving food and washing up.  But no skiing lessons.  I had two choices, don't ski or teach myself.  I chose the latter. 

Over the next 5 months I kept hurling myself down a mountain at ever increasing speeds until I worked out how to ski. That's how I learned, and afterwards I decided not to join the Regular Army just yet, I returned to Reserve Service and I decided to give uni another go.  This time I studied Earth Systems Science and I even made it to the end with a 2:1.  But during the three year course I also had managed to pass the next stage of officer selection and commission in the Army Reserve. By the time I graduated I'd been a commissioned officer for two years and I had a long term boyfriend (he's now my husband).  I didn't fancy re-doing all my officer training and selling my ass to the Army, so I decided to remain as a Reservist instead. 

Years passed, Army skiing was a distant thing that other units did.  I didn't have a clue how to get involved in the early days.  But eventually opportunities presented themselves and I got on a military course.  Cue two weeks of having my self-taught bad habits beaten out of me (not literally).  But bad habits aside, I was still a good skier.  It's about the only sport I've found I'm any good at.  

After my course I was recommended to move straight onto instructor training and so I did.  In 2014 I did my foundation ski instructor course, the year after I did the intermediate one.  I've taught skiing every year since, usually for a few weeks per season.  And in the Army, we get all expenses paid and we get paid our daily rate as well.  I'm a Major, I get around £140/day.  Its a slight pay rise from £50/week.  

So what the hell has this got to do with writing?  Very little, except that my route to teaching skiing is quite reflective of my outlook on life.  I meet hurdles, I find a way to over come them.  I seek opportunities, I grasp them.  I take risks, I throw myself into commitments I make.  Not long back I quit my job to be a writer; 18 months ago the Gallantrian Legacy didn't exist, now its 6 books long.  In 2004 I'd never skied before in my life, now I teach other people how.  I love skiing, I love writing.  I made a success of skiing, writing's next.