I love skiing

Simply existing as a traveler in Finland during the early winter months can do interesting things to the mind. Jet-lag, darkness, foggy mornings and afternoons and evenings too, early-season snot, the post-intensity dry cough, the initial pangs of distance from friends and loved ones, navigating the balance of fatigue and speed on skis, and uncertainty of the season ahead- for better or worse they make me contemplate, reflect, dream, and feel. In my first two weeks on the road this year I’ve felt lightning fast, depressingly slow, enthusiastically giddy, thoroughly beat, a little sick, nervously excited, both contentedly and discontentedly alone, and incredibly thankful.

But this isn’t my first rodeo. Since my last blog four years ago there’s been high highs and low lows. There’s been a little less writing and a little more training, a little less frustration and a little more success on the range. I’ve been to an Olympic Games but had had enough experience with success and failure that I was ready for it mentally (or as much as I could’ve been, anyway). I had learned what is fulfilling and what is not; I enjoyed the relationships with my teammates we had built over the years, smiled at a good performance and frowned at a bad one, and did my best to let it all go after the flower ceremony was over (thanks Vegard). Lesson after lesson after lesson I had learned the hard way in biathlon, first alone in the dark moments of training, then from generous coaches and selfless teammates who became good friends, and then again alone in front of packed stands and on television. Some lessons I’m still learning, like how to systematically be on time when I don’t have a routine established, how to handle long periods at altitude, and how to avoid taking my teammates’ warmup jackets instead of my own. I still get nervous and I still have doubts. But my head remains level- I know that this too shall pass, whether excitement or frustration or otherwise- and underneath it all is a contentment with my mission to improve every day as an athlete and a man. By now you know this, the #startsNow mentality.

It’s been a long time since my last blog, but as I continue longer in this journey as a ski racer (I’m a “Master” this year- what is that?!) one thing remains, nay, grows. It’s obvious really, but sometimes the obvious hits you different when you’re two weeks into feeling the feels in the Finish 3pm darkness. So, at the expense of sounding like a fifth grader, it is this:

I love to cross-country ski. It is my favorite thing to do. I love adventuring in the woods, through a field, over hills, in the dark or the light, on the trail or off. I love the feeling after I push myself through the hardest efforts, and yet I also love the feeling of effortless skiing. I like racing, but I love racing on cross-country skis.

And that’s it. I kind of feel that it would pass for a fifth grade 8am daily writing exercise of some kind. But that’s it. There’s not much to add, if anything, even though I’m the kind of guy who always feels the need to add, write another sentence, clarify a thought, etc. (clearly)(maybe something about how I wish I had other hobbies but I don’t?). I’m incredibly thankful to be doing what I do: racing biathlon, traveling Europe with a group of athletes, coaches, and wax techs, with a couple vans full of us and our stuff. I know it’s not forever, and that makes me appreciate it even more as I sit on the precipice of checking off another precious year of getting to do something I love: cross-country ski.

Thanks for being a part of the journey, and thanks for reading! Blessings to you and yours this Thanksgiving season!