Eat. Slide. Eat. Workout. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.
When you are on this kind of schedule, your experience of time and space become intensified, amplified and distorted. It may sound obvious, but I can confirm that travel at the speed of Skeleton is anything but conventional.
The final stop on the 2011/12 EuropaCup circuit was Winterberg – a town in the Hochsauerland district of North Rhine-Westphalia, Germany and a major winter sport resort of the Wintersport Arena: Sauerland.
We travelled the Autobahn from Austria for the majority of the day and headed straight to the track. It was a crazy rush to put our sleds back together and get on the ice in the pouring rain.
My first run from the top was about as calm, cool and collected as I’ve come to expect. I ended up popping the groove before I could load onto my sled and failed miserably trying to stop it (despite my best efforts of falling to my knees and clutching onto Phrixus as we slid together over the crest of the start ramp). This triggered a fight or flight decision that would have me squirm into the saddle and suddenly find myself facing backwards entering the first curve. The look on my face inside my helmet was undoubtedly priceless but luckily (and shockingly) I planted my left spike plate into the ice surface and forced Phrixus to swing back the 180 degrees to face the correct way down the track. I barely remember any of that run; I was just happy to make it across the finish line in one piece.
Oh and yes, don’t worry – there were witnesses. But no, we didn’t get our hands on the video.
Thankfully, the rest of my training runs were much less exciting, and I was able to actually focus on what I was meant to be doing.
But while the adversity was minimal on the ice – this track came with it’s fair share of new adventures elsewhere.
If you happened to search for results from the Europa Cup Winterberg, Germany races you will easily find that Race #7, run #1 saw me push a 5.81 and come through with a downtime of 59.84. And you would also see this time would only be good enough for 8th place….
Following this, you would see that I made a huge come-from-behind leap with a second run push of 5.66 and a 59.62 downtime. This result would have me claim the silver medal.
And for most people, that would be enough. But while the second run was indeed much better, I want to take you through a series of events which will most certainly become defining moments in my career as a Skeleton Racer:
What a google search couldn’t possibly show you is that when I went back into the start house to prepare for my second run, I wasn’t sure how to feel. I wasn’t unhappy with the run, but I wasn’t entirely certain in my abilities. What if 8th WAS the best i could do here? …. I didn’t want to dwell, so i went for a little walk. Almost instantly I ran into one of the opposing nation’s men’s competitors. Just as I was beginning to analyse what had happened, someone who had been a complete stranger only a week prior would change everything with five simple words: “The second run is yours.”
That’s it; it flipped the switch.
I walked away slightly stunned but with an entirely renewed perspective. And why not? Why had I allowed doubt into my mind? Regardless of the long winded answer, I simply decided to do it.
Take control of the second run.
Make the decision – I told myself.
Standing at the line, I felt more intense & calm than I had in ages – it was time. I pushed with the force I’d been (unintentionally) holding back and drove the Winterberg ice like it was my home track. I crossed the finish line and could only watch the remaining 7 sliders. It was nerve wracking. But as more sliders after me came through with a slower downtime, I was able to start breathing again. With about 3 sliders remaining, the skies opened up and it began to snow… UGH! A couple of the women definitely struggled to grab as much speed – but in my mind, and in this outdoor sport, mother nature was just flexing her muscles. We had to deal with it all the time. When it was said and done everyone was congratulating one another & we trucked it up to the top….
There were more smiles at the top of the track – but there was an air of tension floating around as well, and something didn’t feel quite right. I ignored my gut and hugged my coach. But between the time it took me to put my bags downstairs & return to cover up my sled, everything had changed.
Just like that, the second run had been cancelled – sited as “unfair conditions” ….. I was frozen. I couldn’t move. I could hear my coach frantically trying to reassure me, but the only words that stuck out were “I’m not going to protest this”…. Tears wheld up in my eyes and I walked away. I was a mess. I can’t remember the last time I allowed myself to be that openly emotional in front of some 60 odd people. But I couldn’t help it. I had just laid it all on the line and it felt like it was all for nothing.
The men’s race still had to finish so I didn’t approach anyone … I figured my fight was over. I was deflated.
But without warning, my teammate Robynne marched up to me and selflessly reassured me. She refused to let me give up hope. As we were talking, and between my sniffles, other nations began to approach us with the same outrage. This was not a run cancellation with true validity. I knew that, but I also knew that too often, protesting is an unsuccessful venture & most times everyone just walks away and says, “we’ll get ’em next time” ….
This was shockingly, not one of those times.
Before i knew it there were more than 6 nations who were willing to protest (some of whom their athletes didn’t even move up in position) based on the principle of the issue. I seriously couldn’t believe it…. and I barely let myself.
I controlled my emotions with a great deal of effort and watched as the little meetings began. The men’s race finished and the wheels were set into motion.
The formal protest was made and it was being left in the hands of the jury.
I felt sick. I was already preparing myself for the worst but trying to maintain a brave face.
The next 45 mins may as well have been a week – but as quickly as it was cancelled the second run was reinstated.
When I grabbed my sled on race day #2 the next morning – I felt like a brand new person. I needed to make a statement – and not for anyone but myself. I had to prove that the second run, less than 24 hours prior, was all me – no weather – no fluke. My push felt great, and the run felt fast. Real fast. As you will find, it was a 58.85 with a top speed of 126.1km/h.
Adding to the day was the fact that Winterberg was experiencing sunshine! This was a huge deal. From what we had been told, that ball of fire barely made an appearance in the summer let alone in the frigid winter months. The athletes warmed up between runs with a renewed sense of excitement and an added dash of vitamin D – and by the time my second run came around, I was definitely amped.
I had just witnessed the top 10 sliders push like the amazing female athletes they are, and I knew I had to step it up. Now or never. Once again, I made the decision. The push was a personal best but as I was laying on my sled, a couple of small errors would threaten my overall position. Just the same, the 3rd place run would be just enough to take the top spot – but by a mere combined 4 hundredths of a second. Now THAT’S racing!!
not just because I was able to represent Canada with great results, but because I was standing in front of a group of coaches and peers who had truly renewed my belief in the power of unity – even in this intensely individualized sport. I believe more than ever: we slide solo, but never alone.
The 10 hour, 4790 mile flight from Frankfurt to Calgary was bittersweet. Of course coming home to your own bed and clean clothes is always fantastic, but leaving everyone in Europe (including members of my own team who are taking on the Igls, Austria track once again for Junior World Championships from Jan 23-26, 2012) was much harder than I could have predicted.
GO CANADA! GO!
If everyone is moving forward together, then success takes care of itself.
RESULTS:
EC RACE #7
EC RACE #8
