The sun glistens off the snow on the mountain as I ready myself for my final practice run. I’ve spent most of the day focusing on the first part of the course and now I want to ski the entire course as if it were the competition. I have to take everything I’ve learned these past couple of days and apply my best tactics to this run.
The countdown begins and I do everything in my power to clear my head. I know that any distraction can slow me down. I focus my eyes intently on the course in front of me. When the last beep sounds indicating the clock has started, I launch out of the starting gate and onto what I hope will be the fastest path down the mountain.
The wind has calmed today, making it easier to keep my intended line down the course. I get into my tuck position, attempting to be as aerodynamic as possible, and ready myself to achieve speeds that would result in reckless speeding tickets on the highway.
I visualize planting my poles at the finish of each turn and releasing them as I move into the next one. I try to gain as much speed as I can in the initial section, hoping I can pick up some extra time at the start. I perfectly execute the first few turns, catch a little air following a dip, and tuck back in for a long straightaway.
The upcoming long sharp turn has given me trouble all week. I come into it at top speed and have to roll my skis up on edge and carve the turn. I’ve been sliding on this particular section and not feeling in complete control. I have to remember to flex my knees just enough.
I feel good about how my skis are cutting through the snow, when something on the course catches the light and distracts me for a split second. My legs spread and I lose my balance. Everything goes black.