2014 World Cup, Steamboat Springs CO

There is something to be said about returning home after being away for over a week, it is both refreshing and relaxing-yet also incredible deflating. My first World Cup was everything that I could have asked for; I finished every race, met people that until now I had only watched in film or heard about from team-mates, always in stories full of laughter and smiles. Now I get to start adding my own stories to the arsenal- ranging from morning inspections to team meetings to late night ski tuning gossip and hot tub dips, jumping from water to snow and back again, and the banquet (fueled by our sponsor Big Sky Brewery).

But back to the substance of this post: The World Cup. I raced in all four events (2 Classics, a Sprint, and a Parallel). To be clear- going into this I had zero expectations about how I would do, and if anything I had very negative expectations. I had nightmares about hucking off the jump and landing, breaking various bones, ripping clothing etc etc. Standing in the start gate at the top of Vagabond I kept trying to push the replays of these dreams out of my head, as I stared down the 3+ minute course, the last point I could see… the jump. But as I was the 3rd racer to go (8th if you count the 5 forerunners), I could hear my team members cheering, and even those who didn’t even know my name at that point yelling for me, in various languages and tones. In the end, I flew off the jump and still managed not to make the line, I arced turns and didn’t end up on my ass, and I skated until I couldn’t breath anymore (which of course I later realized at the finish was because it was gushing blood from the cold, altitude and dryness), and at the end, I became part of the 80% of the athletes who collapsed in the finish. As a side note, in all of the sports that I have been a participant is, I have never been apart of a sport in which everyone is so connected, so understanding. When I collapsed in a sweaty heap in the finish corral it was only seconds until Amelie Reymond who, for those of you who don’t know, is the number one women’s telemark skier in the world, it was only seconds until she was kneeling below me and unbuckling my boots (something I was only aware of after when the blood rushed back into my toes bringing with it a surge of pain), and taking off my skis for me- all while I continued to lay in a panting heap. No other sport that I have experienced has that type of unspoken respect- bound by the fact that we all just completed the same, grueling course.

After that, I cant say that each race became easier, because if anything they got harder as my legs got tighter and more sore. But I can say that I got used to the butterflies in my stomach, the slight dizzy spell if I think too hard about the reality of what I’m about to do. And I was able to realize that Shane was right, you never forget your first… WC race that is…

The rest of the week was full of waxing discussions as the snow continued to soften, hot tubs, inter-country dialog that often included more hand gestures than words.But now that I am back home, I am beginning my normal daily routine again; breakfast, school, gym, homework, dinner, bed. No getting up at 6.30 to scrape the wax off my skis, no setting B-Net, or taking it down again, yet at the same time I no longer get to laugh at the Swiss playing cards during our wait, analyze film with Coach Ty, get teased by Shane and Alex for, well…everything. Now that I am home, I have 8 days until Nationals and after that, lacrosse.