Energy and Place Project
Traveling the Trail to Success
Abstract: Skiing is where I feel the strongest connection to the feeling of the wind and complete freedom is refreshing. My sense of place essay is to give you an insight on the daily life of a skier before a race. Skiing has been one of the main sports to bring me back out of my shell after my accident. So I hope you like my sense of place essay and enjoy.
“Time to wake up!” my dad tells me at 6am in the morning. I look around and it feels as if I entered a whole new world. The resort in Aspen, Colorado is huge! I look through the stores and everything is so overpriced. I spot these awesome gloves and check the price and they are $100. That is a crazy amount, so I shrug and move on. I look out to the mountains that I will be skiing and each hold a distinct vibe and difficulty. The light now pierces the sky and the mountain once more sees the light of day. It is time to practice.
As we approach the chair lift I get a glimpse of the monster I will be conquering. I picture myself alone on that mountain. Alone with my thoughts and warm breeze that comforts me on my journey. We finally get to the top and I look down the trail. As I push off I start flying down the mountain. I feel the snow grasping at the bottom of my skis and I glide. As I pick up speed I feel the wind pushing against my arms and chest and start biting my face, I cringe and push on. The trees are covered in a white blanket of snow. The ground is now a piece of white paper waiting for my ski to draw a line with such precision. As I push on, art is being created. I picture myself passing the people learning how to ski as they look in awe at my level of mastery. I fly over each headwall. As I go over I feel my body lift up as if I were taking a jump, but my ski says on the ground as if it’s attached, like a train is to rails. The final headwall is of a different breed. I coast to a stop, look down, and I see a steep slope. It is made up of half ice where the sun doesn’t shine, and the other half slushy where the suns heat has thawed the snow. I take a deep breath and start my descent. People looking from the chair lift watch as I make my first turn, then the second, each turn I pick up speed and then I feel the rhythm. Right left, Right left, Right left, my arms going up and down to flow with the bumps. This is the final stretch. I level my ski downward as if I was a plane getting ready to land. I need the speed, for the ground has prepared a trap at the bottom and I cannot be caught off guard. I pass the test and slide to a halting stop creating an explosion of snow, sending white debris everywhere.
I ride back up the lift, looking down at the race that is about to start. I know my time to race is approaching. As my coach finds me she throws me a blip, I put it on, and we course down to the start gate. It’s now 8:30 and the start gate is already packed so we wait. The wait is killing me. I feel the anticipation building up, but I also feel the fear of making a mistake. Then my name is called and I enter the gate.
As I grasp the cold outrigger before me, thoughts and memories run through my mind. My stomach shrivels up, because I am now pitted against another beast that I must vanquish. This feeling now slowly moves to my arms tensing them up and then thoughts of doubt enter. Through experience and training I’m prepared though. Then I hear it, like the soothing sounds of a waves hitting the beach, the countdown begins. “Five, four, three, two, one” and I’m off. As I fly down the race course, only one thought is coursing through my mind, “light as a feather.” I turn and I’m caught off guard by the ice that awaits me. I skid for a couple of seconds and then I am finally able to catch an edge. I pop back up and continue on. I start to approach the finish, and boy am I ready. I hear the cowbells and the people cheering me on. All my doubts suddenly vanish as I cross the finish line and I slide to a stop. I look up at the board and my time is posted and joy flows through my body. I have won.
I look at the podium and I laugh. The podium is about two feet high so with some charm and smooth talking, some people came to me and hoisted me up. As I watch my fellow competitors get into position, I realize the time has come. The mood is set and the lighting is just right as they walk towards me with my gold medal in hand. As I finally exit, I look to the mountain with a calm mind. The wind caresses my body and the dying light sheds its last warmth on my body.