A lot of people are amazed at how extremely fit we Canadians are. Much of it has to do with winter. Shoveling aside, there are quite a few sports available that allow us to build and strengthen ourselves.
Take snowboarding for example. This is a sport that places a long piece of polished plywood under an adult at the top of a hill and allows him to enjoy the journey...
Step One: Attaching Your Snowboard To Your Foot
Foot as in one (1) foot. To begin with, you only attach the plywood to one foot. At the bottom of the hill. Then you "walk" yourself over to the ski lift and hitch a ride to the top. While this sounds easy ("just walk on over!"), it's pretty much impossible to do because you have a piece of plywood attached to your foot and sticking out at a ninety degree angle (conveniently, in front of your other foot). Your "walk" consists of your back foot pushing your plywood foot ahead, 6 inches at a time. Across the entire bottom of the hill (about 6 miles).
Step Two: Getting To The Top Of The Hill
Somewhere in Nazi Germany rest the plans for the device called "The Ski Lift". This is not an implement of convenience. This is the only thing that provides entertainment for ski hill staff that are stuck working all day in the cold. You wait in line for an hour and when it is finally your turn, you have twelve seconds to push your plywood foot up to the "pick up spot". You don't care that you barreled over two honeymooners and a tween to get there. Then, out of nowhere, this huge metal bench will come up behind you and scoop you up! "Careful!" the ski staff will say. They don't mean it. Then, as you see the top of the hill approaching, you realize that you are going to have to jump off, as the bench is moving and get out of the way but you can only walk 6 inches at a time. To ski staff, this is called a non-taxable benefit. No snowboarder in history has ever launched himself off of a ski lift and not ended up shooting down the other side of the mountain.
Step Three: Attaching Your Other Foot
Once you get to the top of the hill, you have to secure your other foot to the same piece of plywood. You would think your body would be happy about that, but it is not. You will try to shove your foot into the stirrup but as soon as you lift it up, your other foot will slide to the left. Then you will hop. Then you will try again. Then you will hop. You may hop all the way down the hill. You won't be alone.
If you are lucky enough to get your foot in the stirrup, you will need to strap it in because you don't trust it. This means you have to bend over and you have forgotten that you are wearing eighteen different layers. When you try to reach your feet, your fingers will make it to your shins and you will make this sound: "Hhhuuuhh". This will alert the ski patrol to possible danger and make younger skiers beside you think you are about to throw up.
So you (gracefully) throw yourself backwards and land on your butt which you used to think was too big and fluffy. Turns out, it's not. Now both boots are firmly attached to your plywood but you have a problem: you have to get back up. You lean forward and lift your butt off the ground and as soon as you do, you start to slide sideways, into a tree. You sit down again and wait for the ski patrol to help you up.
Step Four: Moving
Now that you are actually standing up, your body realizes that you are serious and decides to take evasive action. Even though you've spent 60 minutes in an intensive training session, you can't remember what to do because all the blood has drained from your head and is pooling in your knees, which have locked up. You are basically a frozen block of meat being delivered to the bottom of the hill on a plywood serving tray. Quickly. Because somehow you are actually moving, and dangerously fast. Your body sees this and takes evasive action part two: "Wave your arms". This does nothing to slow you down but serves as a warning to everyone at the chalet that they should move their children.
Step Five: Recovery
Once you have completed this exercise three times, your body will be soaked in sweat. Not the glorious sweat of your athletic, teenaged life, but the stinky, mildewy sweat of an old man whose body hates him. But you have exercised. A lot. Head for the chalet and consume massive quantities of calories--but please, leave your coat on. No one else needs to smell that...