Blog #3 Potato Twisters and a Motley Crew

I wait outside the little wooden booth eager to try the potato twister. Thinly sliced and swirled on a stick, then fried, this potato masterpiece has been taunting me all week, and I finally get a chance to try it. I count the euros I have left in my pocket and realize that I have just enough for one more rope candy at the booth on the end. The potato man asks, “any medals?” I tell him no, that I am not fast enough. He says, “perhaps too much time in the pubs, eh?” I reply, “yeah, maybe”.  I start thinking back to the number of days I spent in the “pubs” this fall, this summer, this year... not many. The potato man senses my gloom and quickly adds, “you get medals next year, then?” I don’t have the heart to tell him that my team might not be able to go again and if they do, I will not be an athlete on the team. I couldn’t explain to him that when we are not ski training, we are studying, not going to the pubs. I couldn’t explain that medals are far out of reach for us and that it is a dream to even be here racing with this level of competition. Instead, I smiled, took my greasy potato stick and fled.

Tatras, Slovakia

Saturday’s race was VERY difficult for me and for the other racers too. The warm-up felt fine. My muscles were sufficiently tingly with anticipation, but not uncontrollably vibrating. We had lots of fresh, slow snow to contend with. On the first lap, the mass start accordion-ed on the steep uphills such that I could stay with the others for a while. But the skiing felt really bad toward the end of the first lap, and I wanted to quit. At one point, I told Anna, “I think I should probably stop”, to which she replied, “Ok?!”. But I kept skiing. Nothing was really making the race particularly bad. My butt injury from falling on an icy downhill earlier in the week was gone, and I was feeling ok, but I was moving so slowly. The only thing that kept me going on the second lap was Catherine skiing in front of me, urging me to keep going, but she could only babysit me for so long. On the third lap, it was the thought of Britta’s beautiful face that kept me in it. In Bozeman a couple of weeks ago, we had a brutal classic race in thick fresh snow. Britta was having a difficult time, but she did not give up, and it allowed our UW Women’s team to finish in front of two NCAA teams…so I kept skiing.

Men's 30k Skate

In ski racing, the race in your head is the hardest part. There is a constant and arduous battle between conservation and expenditure, pain and pleasure, aggression and grace. When you see someone standing on the podium, you are witnessing the cooperative assembly of some of these parts, but you have no idea the conflict within. You have no idea if that was the hardest race of their life, or an expected victory, or somewhere in between, or both throughout. I respect each of my teammates so much for being so bold as to willingly charge this mental battle range. At the peak of our season, we do battle almost every single weekend and each time we do, we build strength for the next round. I am lucky to have a team of people who want to push their own personal limits too, constantly tearing down, building up, striving for more, and dancing onward.

Kyle, Yara, and Sindre during the Men's 30k...nice snow fort too! 

Before our races, Christi says, “Trust your fitness and have fun!” This has come to be a comfort to me because it always erases the pressures I have put on myself and allows me to refocus. But, at this World University Games, Elise has taught me what it really means to “trust your fitness”.  When the mind starts telling the body to slow down, to conserve, to save itself, Elise has developed the power to say no and keep pushing. This is something skiers are always trying to reach for…the ability to push past the mental restrains and trust physical recovery during a race. To trust your training is major and something that must be refined for elite racers. I know that we all struggle with this and that our ability to “deal” varies day-to-day, but Elise has consistently shown me that to reach my goal of skiing faster, I need to work on my mental fortitude.

Sam and Will...two more teammates with amazing mental fortitude

The men’s 30k is over, night has fallen, and Team USA has gathered in all of our red, white, and blue garb for Closing Ceremonies. We assemble in front of the small spectator crowd and watch as other teams arrive, carefully analyzing the available options for clothing trades. I have my eye on a Japanese racing suit or a Russian vest. Overcoming my fear, I quickly ask a Japanese girl if she would like to trade. She says no, no suits. So, I rush over to the Russian team and find someone willing to give me their Russian vest for my USA coat. We make the trade and she is surprised that I am willing to give up a thick coat for a small vest. The trading becomes vibrant and enthusiastic as all the teams start to trade, each person seeking to upgrade his gear or find something unique to bring home. The closing ceremonies begin, but no one listens, there is constant movement and bartering until we are a mish-mash of color. I look at Team USA at the end of the night… Switzerland, Russia, Finland, Norway, Mongolia, China, Austria, Italy, Poland, Slovakia, Germany, Ukraine decorate Team USA’s bodies. We may be going home to distinct countries tonight, but we are taking a bit of the world with us.

Bib Signing