The Ski Season Was Bumming Me Out. So I Called a Therapist.

Sigmund Freud, the father of modern psychotherapy, theorized that the human feeling of anxiety is the result of a helpless ego, or a defense mechanism to prepare us for a traumatic loss of power.

Freud’s explanation rang clear to me the other day as I careened down an icy ski slope at Colorado’s Keystone Resort.

My skis crunched over rocks and hardpack as I skittered around dozens of people. I have been a passionate skier since I was five years old. But in that moment, my 40 years of skiing experience evaporated, and the bulletproof snow and thick crowds transformed me into an anxious and clumsy mess. My ego—what was left of it— was utterly defenseless.

Damn you, Freud! I thought.

The ordeal at Keystone gave me an up-close view of the no-good, very bad 2025-26 ski season. In case you haven’t heard, resorts in Colorado, Utah, and other parts of the American West are struggling with the thinnest snowpack since Ronald Reagan’s first term. And up until recently you could stroll the streets of a ski town wearing Bermuda shorts and sandals and feel perfectly comfortable.

The balmy temperatures and lack of snow have created maddening dynamics at resorts. Many ski runs are closed, so skiers and snowboarders must cram onto the ones that are open. Machine-made snow covers this terrain, but the synthetic stuff becomes harder than concrete after a few hours of sunshine. Skiers call these runs the”White Ribbon of Death.”

The crummy season has had a dramatic impact on the collective psyche of the ski community here in Colorado. At Keystone, I encountered bad vibes in the slopes, in lift lines, and in the parking lot. And unfortunately, I responded with my own negativity. I griped about the snow, whined about resort management, and after four days, had become a gloomy and depressed mess.

In short, I needed a therapist, stat. Alas, Sigmund Freud has been dead for 86 years.

So, I phoned up Dr. Gary Myers, a psychotherapist and licensed counselor based in Vail. He told me that his clientele, which includes all manner of snow sports enthusiasts, is battling depression, anxiety, and other psychological setbacks brought on by the bad winter.

I asked Dr. Myers if he could help me with my own skiing-related symptom. He agreed.

When Expectation and Reality Don’t Add Up

Dr. Myers said my bad attitude was rooted in my inability to square my skiing expectations with the reality of the 2025-26 winter. He’s right. Even though I read headlines of the bad snowpack prior to my trip, I still arrived in Keystone expecting January conditions: soft snow, open terrain, and maybe even some powder.

“It may sound weird, but there is some grieving going on due to an unexpected loss,” Dr. Myers told me. “The first stage of helping someone in grief is to listen to the person’s experience.”

Dr. Myers listened to my gripes and groans, and told me that it was OK to feel this way. It may sound corny, but having my grumpiness validated did sooth my aching ego.

When Anger, Impatience, and Anxiety Take Over

I told Dr. Myers about the potent cocktail of emotions I experienced while zipping around Keystone: anxiety about the ice and crowds, and anger at other skiers, Mother Nature, and even resort management.

Dr. Myers laughed, and then that these feelings often occur when we perceive others to be responsible for our setbacks.

“It’s a sense of entitlement,” he said. He’s right, of course.

Dr. Myers likened my anger to the similar dynamics that lead to road rage on American highways. And he had some extremely helpful feedback.

“Try to understand that this situation is stressful for everyone,” he said. “And try not to get caught up in your momentary rage. Realize that your feelings are going to pass in a few minutes, and that you don’t have to act on them.”

He told me to take deep breaths and to try and find other stimuli to keep me from overreacting in the moment. Try to ski with a friend, who might distract me with a story or a joke. Dr. Myers also said that skiers who have short fuses (yours truly) should go onto the slopes prepared to confront frustration.

“Go onto the slopes assuming it will happen,” he said. “Make a plan for yourself to address your anger, so that feeling outrage isn’t your only option.”

Examining My Self-Identity as a Skier

Midway through our conversation, Dr. Myers related an anecdote from one of his clients. The person had set out to ski 100 days during a season, but came up short. The failed accomplishment weighed heavily on the person, because they self-identified as a skier who was capable of the challenge.

“I asked this person to explore why their self-esteem was tied to this goal, to this status,” Dr. Myers said. “I eventually got them to laugh about it, because they realized they are so much more of a person in their everyday lives, than just a person who can ski 100 days.”

I am likely wrestling with the same type of internal stress, he said, which is brought on by my self-identity as a dedicated and passionate skier. A solution, he said, is to focus on my other qualities: a good husband and dad, a dedicated cyclist, and a person who writes pithy columns.

Finding a New Way to Have Fun at the Resort

On my final day at Keystone, I had an epiphany while riding a lift with an older woman from Colorado Springs. We griped about the snow and crowds. But she pointed out several qualities of the ski day that I had overlooked.

It was sunny and warm, so we were skiing in light jackets. Most of the holiday traffic had gone home, and lift lines were tiny. “I plan to quit early and have a beer or two on a sun deck,” she told me.

Dr. Myers reinforced this point of view when we connected.

“Any vacation you go on has rainy days and ups and downs,” he said. “Sure, you’ve had perfect days skiing. Just remember that you’ve always had disappointing days on the slopes that didn’t meet your expectations. Even during great years.”

Perhaps that’s the true way to enjoy the 2025-26 ski season: focus on the parts of the experience that actually are fun. A dunk in a Jacuzzi. A funny joke told on the chairlift. A beer that tasted great. As for the actual skiing—there’s always next year.