Olympic Conquest

Cory - Taking It Slow

I'm standing at the top of Vail Mountain and the wind is biting today. It's relatively quiet due to the high winds. I look downhill and I shake the snow off my skis. It's been well over a year since I last skied this run. It feels like yesterday. I wonder how much strength I've lost. I know it will take a long time to get back to where I was. And this is the mountain to bring me back. 

I crouch down and anticipate the beating my body is about to take. I run my hand over my knee and I hope all my training since my surgery supports this run. One false move and I could be back at square one. My knee feels strong enough but the only way I will know for sure is if I try. I squeeze my poles, brush aside any fear as I've been trained to do my entire life, and I take off down the mountain.

Almost immediately muscle memory takes over and my legs naturally carve through the snow. The wind whips across me, challenging my ability to stay upright. My focus is completely on the mountain. I pick up speed and I'm slicing through the cold air with my sharp turns. I hit a small bump and take some air. Now I'm really flying. I come back down hard and my knee twinges slightly but I stay upright.

I take my time with the rest of the course – I don't have to be number one today. I try to rein in my need for speed and focus on how my body feels reconnecting to the mountain. At the top, my skis had felt like dead weights but as I near the bottom, they seem lighter - a natural extension of me.

As I reach the end of this course, I get an overwhelming rush of relief. I know that the mountain and I are going to be friends again.

At the bottom, Martin waits for me. I ski up to him and shower him from head to toe with snow with a snowplow stop.

"Never gets old," I say.

He laughs as he shakes off the snow and leans down and feels my knee. He looks serious as he evaluates my stance. "How did that run feel?"

"It's definitely stiff. I felt a slight twinge about halfway through but I think it's fine."

"Hmm. I don't like hearing about a twinge. You looked like you were favoring your other leg a bit. Maybe we should give it another couple of weeks."

"Absolutely not. I can't just stay indoors, working out in the comfortable air-controlled gym. I need the cold air and the snow."

Martin stands, knowing I'll be out here skiing with his blessing or not. "Alright, but let's not push it. You've done a run. Let's get you back and give you an anti-inflammatory, just in case. And let's ice it tonight. We'll come back out in a couple of days."

"Tomorrow. We'll come back out tomorrow."

"I know you're anxious but I want your knee to heal properly."

"I have to use it so it can heal!"

"Don't tell me how to do my job and I won't tell you how to do yours. We'll come back out the day after tomorrow. Your knee is going to rest for the next 48 hours."

"You're killing me."

"No, I'm saving you."

I know he's right, but it doesn't make it any easier to take it slow. I can feel the adrenaline building inside me and it's going to explode if I don't get back to racing. But I have to admit that I wouldn't be at this point without Martin. And, even though I hate to admit it, so has Karen. The year in Hawaii helped rehabilitate more than just my knee and I'm actually feeling pretty good about the future. At least my future as an Alpine skier - my heart still isn't ready to think about a future without a certain girl...