Photo credit: Joy Bryant |
lying if I said that this particular entry didn’t cause me a small
amount of pause.
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.
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.
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 …
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 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.
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.
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.
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.
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
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 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.
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.
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.
can’t be brave if you’ve only had wonderful things happen to you” – Mary Tyler
Moore
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