Ok…so here it is, the real story of the end of my skiing days. The last time I was in Colorado for skiing I had a few drinks at a friend’s house, tripped over their dog, and sprained my ankle. The next morning I had a baseball-sized lump in my ankle and could barely walk. I was brought to the emergency room, against my will, where everyone was telling their ski injury story. When mine came out about the drinks and the dog, I was the laughing stock of the ER. No more winter sports for me.