A Story of a Skier: Men's Pursuit. Last day, BYE Vancouver!!

Coming into the exchange pit...

SWITCH...

And heading back out, all in about 5 seconds. Crazyness.

So. Today was my last day up at the World Olympic Park, and what a day it was. Janelle and I started it off with a ski in 12 degree weather... tank tops were the only thing that made the heat bearable. Since we were skiing reasonably early in the morning, we got the heat without the slushy, deep, heavy snow, which was a definite plus. My nose got a sunburn though. Once our lovely ski was done, we took the klister off our skis, a task that we had been postponing all week. After a quick lunch, the race finally started. Today was the 30k pursuit, a 15k leg of both classic and skate. I’m sure most of you saw it, so I won’t go into too much detail, but to sum it up, it was awesome. The Canadians did so well, and that was reflected in the stadium’s energy. People were SO LOUD. There were two giant cowbells in the Swiss cheering squad, a trumpet somewhere near the Norwegians, whistles in the Canada section and loud cheers filling the rest of the stadium. And of course, energy spreads, and so soon everyone around you is shifting from foot to foot, completely absorbed in the atmosphere around them. I really liked how the race was a longer distance than the previous ones, you don’t miss the race just by blinking and you had time to really get into it. And again, we did so well, it was hard to not be super high-strung the whole time. Forerunning is still fun, although I’m getting a little worn out, as is the rest of the group, I think. It shows in our postrunning... we started out the week skiing 7.5k loops, now we cut off at about 400 meters. Not that I mind terribly, I’ve been getting in plenty of good training. I’m just not a huge fan of skiing, stopping, skiing, stopping and skiing again. You build up some crazy acid in the legs doing that.

So this was my last forerunning race, and what a race it was. I’ll be leaving here with another life changing experience courtesy by skiing under my belt, hopefully with many more to follow. I am so grateful that I was chosen to take part in these incredible events; I will remember them for a long time. The motivation provided is incredible. Being an Olympic athlete seems so much more attainable when you spend 2 weeks around them constantly. But you also see what kind of a commitment it is. You see their constant focus, on and off the trails, their determination to get everything just so, so that they can go out and have the best race of their lives. I have been immersed in so much race preparation, it is unbelievable. I have watched the same people test skis for DAYS, I have seen skiers out skiing the course, completely 100% zoned out to the world around them, preparing to race. I even skied past some Swiss guy in the middle of the woods doing tai-chi followed by a short sprint and then repeating this, over and over and over. The Olympics are like some super intricate watch, ticking away for 18 days with the whole world watching. TV viewers, spectators and most volunteers only get to see the pretty numbers on the front, or perhaps help wind it up just a bit, doing their part. I feel like I was given the chance to dance around the inner gears, trying not to jam anything up, while trying to stick my nose in as many places as possible and see everything I could and how it all worked and fit together. I don’t know who gave us the privilege to do this, to eat with the athletes, walk in the waxing zone, or watch from a place that was off limits to even the national team coaches, but whoever it was, thank you so, so, so much.

People always asked if I was going to win a gold medal when they heard I was going to the Olympics. And then I would have to explain, ever so patiently, that no, I wasn’t even racing, that I was forerunning, which then leads to me trying to explain exactly what a forerunner is, etc. Basically, no matter how the conversation meanders, it always seemed to end with the other person throwing me a wry smile and a “Well, if not this time, maybe the next, or the next.” I usually write this off with a laugh, but really, it would be the coolest thing ever, and there is always a tiny bit of me going “YES, YES, YES” . All of these athletes winning medals were once 17 and watching the games from their couches. It’s all about motivation, it got them here, and although there is always a chance it will run out, or be directed elsewhere, as long as momentum carries through, there is really no reason to believe that it can’t be done eventually. If my eyes can tear up watching opening ceremonies on TV where the torch doesn’t rise and a hockey player carries a sputtering flame through the rain in a pickup truck, then I can’t even imagine how great it must feel for the athletes taking part, or even winning medals. This is the kind of legacy the Olympics leave behind, this inspiration to overcome bumps in the road, to strive for excellence and bathe in the glory that is sport and the games, and I am sure that every other aspiring athlete feels the same.

My bag is packed, my skis are travel waxed, my seats are booked and I’m going home. Bye Vancouver 2010, I’ll miss you.

Michelle