I’ve been skiing a very long time and, until some years ago, had never succumbed to odd advice. Then I read somewhere that it was helpful to put on one’s boots and clump around indoors a few months before the season started to break in the boots and accustom one’s feet to the pressure.
So, it’s midsummer, 90° and I have my ski boots on, ski socks up to my knees, clad only in t-shirt and underpants, marching around in our sitting room when the door bell rings. It’s a FedEx delivery and the guy needs a signature. I open the door. To his great credit, the delivery man doesn’t bat a eyelid but merely holds out his device, gets my autograph and leaves, shaking his head as he retreats down the driveway.