OK, you did the bump runs all afternoon yesterday, practiced the moves that instructor Dan Dacey taught you many years ago — straight into the side of the mogul, beginning the turn just before, making the transfer then grooving down the front side, finding again the line you picked with your eye.
Over and over, you did this, trying to sharpen form, reduce wasted moves, polishing, polishing. So this morning you walk to breakfast a little gingerly on impressively painful quads.
Practicing moguls was yesterday. Today, something else.
Overnight it had snowed a couple of inches on Attitash. In the early dark I could make out the familiar lights of the groomers high in the slopes, so I decided what kind of morning it was going to be. A hero morning. All that quad-killing work the day before left me ready for some hero snow, and I knew I’d have it this morning.