It has been a lot, this recovery. From pain to fear to doubt to hope to thinking too much to letting it go, I have been through more than I could have imagined before it all happened. After finally completing my first race in St. Moritz, I am happy to say that I am back ski racing again. Although I have had mixed feelings about it over the past few months, I realized recently that this is what I worked so hard for. This is what I am supposed to be doing right now. This is another step on my path, and I want to walk it with certainty and grace.
Before my first race in St. Moritz I fought many battles with myself: why am I doing this? Is it worth it? Am I too scared now? Should I just move on? Is this were I am supposed to be?
But I switched the flip. I got sick of doubt and fear, and swimming in the thick of it all. I know it's there. I've walked with it. And I'm so much better with it by my side, but it is not all that is there. There is so much more. Here is my journal entry from the night before my first race:
Here I am, in St. Moritz, sitting at my desk in my room, prepping for bed the night before my first race back. My first race after that terrible accident and the proceeding terrible/wonderful months. Eight months and eleven days, to be exact....
I have gained and lost perspective, over and over again. And I am constantly working on fine-tuning, stepping back, having patience. I need to be aware of expectations. I can tell that, although I have not intentionally set them, they are there. I need to remember to be kind to myself, to be easy with expectations, stay aware and present and remember to enjoy the ride. Remember that there are so many other things out there that I am so passionate about, and look forward to exploring. Remember how small this world of skiing is, but remember that I am here. Now. Remember my breath. And remember the joy.
Though I haven't skied much at all over the last 8 months, my body remembers. My mind remembers, my muscles remember. My skiing is still there, my fundamentals are still there...my trust and flow is what I'm searching for now. I understand the risk that I am taking (I have thought endlessly about this), and now it is time to let that be. And ski. To be firm with myself: I know I am taking the risk. I am willing to suffer the (unknown) consequences. There is no need to dwell on that, to dwell on the future, to dwell on the fear. I have acknowledged it, have gotten to know it, have walked, breathed, and sat with it. Fear and me: we are pals, to say the least. Like sisters: we may not always get along harmoniously, but we love each other deeply. I know she is there and I respect her.
But it is time to do my job. The job that I love and enjoy so much. And the only way to return to that joy is to trust, let go, and let it fly. What happens happens. Let go of expectations, let go of control. You can only do what you can do. It's time to get back into this ski-racing thing, and to enjoy the shit out of it, no matter how fast or slow I am. I will commit to this decision, and although there will be moments of doubt and great struggle, I will commit to remembering how I want to move forward -- with intention, with ease, with joy. With a big heart. With deep breaths and with courage. With self-love and kindness, with an open mind and a strong will. With ferocity, hunger, patience and passion.
So tomorrow is the day when I begin. And it feels so good to know that I am going to take that step. Scary. Terrifying, even, but so good. Stepping up to the task, stepping up to the challenge. Facing it with trust and with courage. Facing it with the mindset of being present, bringing joy to it, bringing fire and passion and hunger....like I used to, but slightly different: I am older, wiser, more whole and more myself. Myself now -- which is a different self. One that I look forward to getting to know better, getting to express, getting to RACE with. I am certain that I want to do this, certain that I am exactly where I should be. And I am certain that I am okay with the unknown. Onward!
adventures to and from, here and there, home and away, around the world--through my eyes, lens, and mind