It's one week away from the comp, my first ever comp, and I'm lying in bed writing this entry with my knee propped on a pillow, my MCL sprained. I'm smiling. As I look back over the events of the weekend that led me to this moment, my smile grows. Even when I think about the moment I started down the steep chute that led to the 15 ft cliff shielding from my view the stretch of snow on which I didn't land, even knowing that that moment risked my ability to compete in my first ever ski competition, I am filled with a sense of great satisfaction. I love skiing. Even more, I love skiing with a purpose and testing my limits. I doubt I will ever be pro, but every day I spend manipulating my skis in gravity's pull and improving my ability to point those planks in the exact direction I want them to face, is a great day, even if I don't land on my feet.
Telluride will be the biggest test of my life's pursuit of skiing. Having come a long way from my first day standing on skis at 5 years old, I now stare down the prospect of standing on top of Telluride's big mountain slopes facing danger and offering my pride to the mercy of the mountain and fortune. Nine more days. I can't wait.
Telluride will be the biggest test of my life's pursuit of skiing. Having come a long way from my first day standing on skis at 5 years old, I now stare down the prospect of standing on top of Telluride's big mountain slopes facing danger and offering my pride to the mercy of the mountain and fortune. Nine more days. I can't wait.