Skiing

Before you read this, pause for a second and think about the most fun you’ve ever had in a day. Was it hanging out with friends? Visiting a new place or perhaps some family? Maybe it was going to some sporting event or concert. Keep that thought and capture the moment. Picture everyone else around you, sharing that same great experience. Would they consider it the most fun they’ve had in a day? It very well may be, but it could also be far from it. You really can’t know for sure, and that’s what makes it interesting. Now I know what you might be thinking, skiing? That was really the most fun he’s ever had? I can’t say it is because honestly I can remember a lot of good times especially with friends, but it makes my top ten, easy.

It was a cool winter morning when we first hit the slopes and man did we hit them hard. It was me and my sister’s first time skiing and the minute we strapped into our skis, we knew were in for a ride. In the beginning we fell more than anything, but after a few minutes of close instruction, we began to feel a rhythm. 

I’ll be honest, at first, I was completely intimidated by the beginner slope. Keep in mind this wasn’t exactly what I was used to, growing up in Illinois with our lovely “hills.” This was, if anything, a much deserved and overly sized upgrade. In the end, I decided that we hadn’t traveled all this way and rented the gear for nothing, and joined my dad and sister on our first ever ski lift ride. The trip up was actually amazing, gifting us a great view of the snowy wilderness surrounding us and a moment of blissful silence at the very top. Before we knew it, we had arrived at our destination, and we jumped off the lift with surprising ease.

To this day, I can’t decide if my favorite moment of the day was the first or last run. Whenever you try something new, especially something like skiing, there is always the rush of adrenaline and excitement the first trip down. The ski instructor had shown us how to slow down by pointing our skis inwards forming a triangle, and at that moment, I couldn’t think of a more useful piece of information. I flew down the slope at seemingly breakneck speed, slowing down only to turn and prevent myself from falling (which to my dismay didn’t quite work as often as I would have liked). As soon as we finished the run and met at the bottom of the slope I was ready to go again. Throughout the day I became better and better and handling the skis and changes in slope and direction until I was ready to take on the intermediate hill.

Unfortunately, the day had flown by and I happened to try the intermediate hill on my last run. It was both the worst and best decision of the day. Again, in the beginning I was worried I would fall or get stuck on the steepness of the slope, but I underestimated my natural skiing ability, and the softness of the snow cushioning my fall. I flew down the hill again, this time more in control of my skis, but faster I realized, much faster. It was exhilarating and frightening at the same time, but I loved it all the same. I had my falls and lost skis but I wished I had tried the steeper hill earlier in the day. In the end, I had a great time and will forever cherish that day. In fact, you could say it was the most fun I had ever had in a day.

Dribble, Shoot, Score … Run?

As you may know, when it comes to sports, first and foremost, I am a soccer player. I have played the “beautiful game” since before I can remember and not once have I doubted my love for the game. I can still remember our first-ever organized soccer team: “The Sharkys.” At age 4 we were already kicking the ball around, and while it was more like a crowd of organized kids swarming around a small plastic ball, it was soccer nonetheless. My passion for the game didn’t stop there, in fact I would say it grew. I joined the local club team IFC (or Illinois Fútbol Club) when I was eight and from then on playing soccer was a routine.

Some of my fondest memories have come from soccer and to this day I don’t think there’s a thing I’d rather do to pass the time. As I entered middle school and high school, my best friends were, of course, my teammates on the field. Today, my strongest friendships are still with those same players and it seems like nothing has changed. The thrill of scoring the goal, dribbling past a defender, or even training hard at practice is all still real for me, and our success as a team has only bolstered my passion.

Here’s where things start to get tricky. For the first time in my life, junior year, I didn’t play club soccer. There was no problem with the team or with me playing soccer; I simply decided to try something new. Of course my coaches and teammates all tried to persuade me to stay and questioned my decision but at the same time there were people excited to finally see me run for Uni, and Doug was already giving me tips and advice, asking me what events I would run and why.

Neither of my parents ran track or cross-country extremely well and both of my siblings were average runners, but for some reason I was different. I started running cross-country for fun in middle school and it turned out I was one of our fastest runners. After such a good experience in middle school (our team qualified for state every year I ran) I wanted to continue the success and looked forward to running in high school. Unfortunately, soccer season and cross-country season came at the same time and so did track and club soccer, so I ended up giving up on running, seemingly for good. I guess during junior year something changed inside me and out of the blue I decided to run track. Maybe it was the idea of trying something new, doing something I knew I was good at, or even just people encouraging me to finally go back to running, but I carried through with it. I decided that it was a logical decision above everything else since my performance this season would give me a good idea of what it was like, and what I could achieve my senior year of at Uni (if I decided to run again). If I ran just senior year, I figured it would be too late to get anywhere, and so I needed a test run.

Looking back on that year I honestly can’t decide if I made the right decision. I had a generally good experience running for our team, breaking 2:00 in the 800m (an noteworthy achievement for most high school 800m runners), placing 13^th at state, and missing the finals by less than half a second. I was satisfied with my performance and really thought I would run again during senior year until I watched my club play in its home tournament this past spring. I only came to one game: the final. They won, and it was a great game to watch, but as I sat there on the sidelines I realized how much I missed playing with them. It wasn’t even just the games and practices, I realized I missed the late nights in hotel rooms, car trips to other states for tournaments, even the hangouts and movies we saw together. I missed my team.

Fast forward a few months and here we are know. Soon I will arrive at the same predicament: run track for Uni, even break a record and place at state, or play the sport I love for two seasons in a row and join my teammates on the field again.