Photo credit: Joy Bryant

I’d be
lying if I said that this particular entry didn’t cause me a small
amount of pause.

The
truth is, I wasn’t really looking forward to writing yet another post where I get to tell you how much this week forced me to learn and how the ups and downs
of this sport are all markers along my path …  but it really is (albeit cliché) the theme coursing through the veins of my Rookie
season. 
So,
when the snow settled in the Austrian outrun, the timesheet solidified the fact that I had finished 17th overall and ensured that this FIBT World Cup
race number 8 would be another car on the high speed freight train of important
self-realizations that continue to barrel down the tracks.

Igls,
Austria – a popular Tyrolean holiday village since the 19th century
and the first European track I ever learned (Jan 2012). Now, it can also be remembered as
the place I was re-introduced to my ability to try too hard … 



Often
described as being “so easy, it’s difficult” Innsbruck/Igls is 1,217 metres of track that loves to
slowly steal your sled speed through a gradual 124 metre drop and then, give you
a coronary through the entire treacherous breaking stretch. All the same, it’s
a track on which I had achieved a nice level of comfort. A track that I felt
calm in and a track that I could picture myself getting my 3rd
Olympic qualifier.



As far
as I was concerned, official training went pretty well, and I was more than aware
that the winner of the race would be whomever could create the most velocity at
the start and find the optimal relaxed-precision as a pilot … twice. Which
might sound like what we say about the majority of the sliding tracks, but Igls
is very specific in her demands. Anything less than this will result in a
something much different; something much less desirable.
In a couple of recent posts, I talked about letting go – because the importance of
this skill as a Skeleton racer is second to none. However, my hindsight has led
me to realize and acknowledge that  I was a bit naïve to believe this skill held it’s crucial
element on the ice alone.

Race
day was colder than it had been all week, but the snow held off – which had
been the main concern from the field.  Trusting my set up, when the 9th
green light cleared the track, Phrixus and I were off.



My heart
was racing a touch more than normal, dry land training had been intentionally
taking it out of us, as we continue to work towards peaking for World Championships. But as a racer I prepare to win the same way each time I hear my name called.
This race was no different as I guided Phrixus with a firm but gentle hand. A
sticky groove set our momentum a touch backwards, but I didn’t let that blip stay
in my mind for more than a millisecond.

“Push the sled!!!” My brain screamed at my legs and joints. The struggle was
clear, but I ran it deep.


Loaded
and down, I began to navigate the path inches from my chin. I was happy with
most of the top portion of the run, with a few exceptions and a couple frustrating skids
that I could only pray lasted longer in my mind – I crossed the finish line.
Catching a glimpse of my downtime as I hammered into the foam mats, I felt a sinking
feeling in the pit of my stomach. 


Nope, this race day wasn’t going to be an easy one.

Swallowing the jagged pill that was a less than stellar first-run result, I
waited with baited breath to hear if I was even going to get a second run …  The news came upstairs:
17th place – 3rd sled off in heat 2 … and thankfully, another chance
to get it right. 



With deep breaths, positive thinking and a slightly different game plan, it
took no time at all before I was once again face to face with the entrance to
corner one. The push, unfortunately, wasn’t any quicker than run 1 but I made some
small improvements to the run quality and overall top speeds. It would be enough
to maintain my position – but just barely. I may not have moved up in ranking but a couple of exciting 2 and 3-way ties meant a total of 9 girls medaled in
the end. Tight racing at it’s finest!

And for me, a day that didn’t exactly go according to plan.

Frustrated
and feeling a bit like a broken plate glass window … my uneven pieces all over the
finish dock … I held it together really well at the track. I reassured myself, “Another race completed;
more fuel for the fire.” Yes, Igls had proven its uniqueness as a track, and forced
me way out of my comfort zone – but the importance of these events didn’t sink in instantly.


We packed our things and headed back to the hotel. I slowly walked to my room.  Put the key in the door, tears welling
up in my eyes. I turned on my computer and loaded Skype. I dialed home.



“… How
are you doing, Kitten?!” Mom’s voice rang through the speakers.
In that moment, my nervous system was shot.

It sure is a good thing moms have so much practice with their little ones… no
one can battle through these moments with me quite like her. My parents are my
rocks – even an ocean away.

Eventually, I returned to a more rational state of mind. 


The process, the adjustments, the lessons, the mistakes and the excitement: this season has asked me to be a better version of myself over and over and over again.
It has taken (and will continue to take)  a braver side of my heart and mind for me to step back and see the
bigger picture – especially when I get so insanely close-up every day. Being brave
enough to take every chance, to put it all on the line – and then, remembering to understand
that desire is only part of the battle we wage with ourselves every time we
pull our helmet down over our face – is no simple task.
“You
can’t be brave if you’ve only had wonderful things happen to you” – Mary Tyler
Moore
Speaking
of bravery … Check out this guy!

It’s true when they say “There is always a way to overcome the obstacles” … for
me though, it’s a question of finding all
the mountains before I can actually start to move them.





I am currently ranked 8th in the world and tomorrow morning we head to my first ever World Championships – held, this year, in the
birthplace of sliding sports (and the only natural-track in the world) St. Moritz, Switzerland

“Sometimes the darkest challenges, 
the most difficult lessons, 
hold the greatest gems of light.” – B. Marciniak