I spend hours each day considering weather, season, risk, etc. in preparation for the weekend. My wife thinks it’s a little over the top. On some level I don’t disagree, but her comments persuaded me to consider the root of my actions. The answer: Art. After preparation and practice, the terrain, the mountains become a canvas, the route, the traveling, a brush stroke. The ski track itself is the paint.
I could make any number of fitting analogies here and thus the analogies themselves are not so important. This is not just some silly pastime. No matter that no one sees my work but me. Most art in the world is experienced only by the artist, maybe a few others. This does not diminish its importance.