A mountain isn't called a mountain until it's been skied so hard, you can see the scars on the hill. I wouldn't expect for me to go skiing at Sunapee every single weekend for nine hours a day. During that nine hours, I work my tush off trying not to kill myself whenever I am in the middle of a race. Apparently, I didn't try too hard on that specific topic. I was racing in the Mountain Dew Vertical Challenge at Sunapee. It happened during a race I competed in in the middle of January 2011.
I arrive at Mount Sunapee on a cold hearted winter morning. The wind was blowing and flakes of snow lightly tapped my bright red face as a walked to the Competition Center. I walked into that high temperature room to see everyone preparing for the big race ahead of them. I buckled my boots, strapped up my helmet, screwed in my chin bar and I was ready to go. I step back outside and I feel that cold sheet of snow slam against my face and I say to myself, “This is the day I almost kill myself.” I snap my boots into my skis and start heading toward the Spruce Triple chairlift. The ride one the chairlift put me in, “I’m going into deep thoughts” mode. The only thing I wanted to think about was the design of the course. It was all downhill, making very sharp turns and my worst nightmare, this will be the iciest course I will ever race on in my whole life. At the end of the chairlift ride, I hop off and ski down to the Eggbeater trail. I slowly ski down to the main gate to get a good look of the icy precipice that lays ahead of me. I get back in line, a nervous wreck I was waiting to slide down that hill.
It finally comes up to be my turn in the starting gate. I take my jacket and snow pants off to reveal my slate black GS suit covered in thick padding. I instantly feel a cold jacket just wrap around my entire body. Now I’m freezing at the moment. The race official standing next to me says that I have ten seconds before I start. My heart starts pounding when I hear him say that. I don’t know what to expect ahead of me. I have no clue in my mind if I’m going to make it to the finish or not. “5...4...3…” says the Official. I take a (maybe my last) deep breath and I’m off. I make a sharp turn around the very first gate like a squirrel darting away from a predator. I keep on gliding around the gates very smoothly and I’m feeling very proud of myself at the moment. I’m just taking it in. That feeling ends when I hit the end of the course. I take a very sharp turn around the next gate, but my second ski doesn’t make it around the gate. My heart starts pounding again. I see that my ski pops off, and now I am in an absolute state of shock. The next thing I know, I slammed my head on the ground, and all I hear is a loud, SNAP! Now I’m on the ground. Cold, tired and broken up. My helmet is snapped in half, my skis and poles are everywhere and then theres me. Me, just lying in the middle of the course. I’m…just...lying...there. I was out cold.
When I wake up, I’m in the Emergency room. Next to me I see my Mom and the doctor. Apparently, the doctor had told my Mom I had a severe concussion and was told that I couldn’t ski for the rest of the season. I was really bummed. Skiing was my most passionate sport. I was really sad to let it go for the rest of the season. About a minute later, my Mom hands me a mirror. I was a little puzzled why she was giving me a mirror. Did she think a part of my face looked distorted? Well she thought right. I looked in the Mirror to find that there was a huge mark in the middle of my forehead making it look like I’ve been shot. I chuckled for a second or two. So then I walked back to my little tailgate station and all my friends gathered around me asking so many questions like: Are you okay?, Do you have amnesia?, Did you get shot? I laughed at them for a little while and then told them the story of how I got my first concussion.
What I’m trying to say in this story is that if something bad happens to you and you can’t do an activity you love for a very long time, that doesn’t mean give up! It doesn’t define you as a terrible skier or something like that. It just says that one needs more practice. You know what they say, “Practice makes Perfect.” I took that quote and stuck it in my very thick head and now I’m one of the best in my age group. So, don’t give up when you don’t succeed at first, just keep practicing until you reach your goal.
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