Jit's Journal: Are experience does a world of good

While everyone else was up in arms over Are and the medal count, I was busy doing what I liked to do — ski. I had one goal going to Are: prove I wasn’t a waste of space on the roster for the U.S. Ski Team, like I’m sure many figured I would be. By the end of my tenure in Sweden I believe I had done just that. At times I felt like I was the “fill-in guy,” a replacement that could be subbed in at any given notice, but I was all right with that because it was my opportunity to gain some much-needed experience.
WHILE EVERYONE ELSE was up in arms over Are and the medal count, I was busy doing what I liked to do — ski. I had one goal going to Are: prove I wasn’t a waste of space on the roster for the U.S. Ski Team, like I’m sure many figured I would be. By the end of my tenure in Sweden I believe I had done just that. At times I felt like I was the “fill-in guy,” a replacement that could be subbed in at any given notice, but I was all right with that because it was my opportunity to gain some much-needed experience.
    The GS was what I had expected it to be. I skied two pretty solid runs and kept myself focused throughout the day to finish 18th. The tough part for me personally, was knowing that I was holding back to see myself make it to finish. I kept this to myself, but my coaches saw it and let me know it when I got back to the apartments. Usually I hate to ski like that, but I think I needed to get that finish under my belt to establish some good confidence and a solid platform of experience from which to jump off of in the future. At the end of the day, I soaked it all in with a big smile on my face and had as much fun as I could, because I know that in the future I’ll probably be under a bit more scrutiny than I was.
    Pressure free and happy was the way I felt during the GS, but during the slalom it was a different story. My thoughts of resting after the GS were quickly shot down after I ended up 51 on the list of 50 that didn’t have to race in the slalom qualifier race. With so many people entered in the race, FIS deemed the qualifier necessary to cut down the amount of people racing on the hill. All I could think about was trying not to straddle a gate or doing something else stupid to erase my chances at races in the actual worlds race.
    I sandbagged the first run to make down to the finish alive. I made it down but misjudged how slow I could go, so I ended up three seconds out. Oops! The next run, I still skied conservative because I didn’t want to straddle, but to my surprise I ended up winning the run and locked in my spot for the real slalom race.
    The actual slalom race was a tough day on the job for all. I could sit here and whine about the light, or the conditions, maybe the course sets, but at the end of the day, you just have to get the job done no matter what, and as a group it didn’t happen. After I watched Ted, Jimmy and Bode not make it down to the finish, I told myself that even if I had to hike five times I would at least get my body over the finish line. I skied great on the top section, but I soon found myself sliding on my side out of the course after I booted out. I barely saved myself and skied a rodeo of a slalom the rest of the way down to barely make it to the finish in 28th. After so many guys had crashed out of the course, I was lucky to find myself getting a second run.
    That second run was an opportunity to let the gas pedal hit the floor on a clean course for fun. I did just that, but I slid out on my side again coming onto the final pitch. “What is going on?” I thought as I looked up in the sky for answers. At that point, many racers would have called it day and slid out of sight, but my pride wouldn’t let me end it like that, so I hiked. The crowd roared louder than I had heard it the whole time I had been there. I skied the final gates of the course and did a 360 as I crossed the finish line to at least give the crowd some entertainment, because so few racers actually made to the finish; they ate it up.
    These days in ski racing, you have to push to the limit every run or you might as well stay home. All the guys are going for broke; that’s what my teammates and I did that day and it didn’t pan out — welcome to life, it’s not always fair. That’s why you dust yourself off and prepare for tomorrow while everyone else is celebrating.
    The nations team event was another “fill-in moment” moment for me, as I was not originally planning to do it. ‘I borrowed someone else’s super G skis and decided I would put my best effort forward to contribute to the good old Team USA. I had skied exactly one super G race in two years since blowing my knee out, mainly because I’m focusing on the technical events right now, and I was feeling pretty rusty. I somehow conjured up a good run from my back pocket that could have been a winner had I not made a huge mistake on the third-to-last gate, and pulled down a fourth place.
    Interestingly enough, the turn that I screwed up was forever immortalized in the pages of USA Today the next morning with a massive picture of me blowing it (thanks guys, what about the good turns?). I did my part, though my team had a rough go at it, and was satisfied with my own showing in Are.
    As I was leaving the finish area, the press was asking about the tragedy of the team event, but I was already thinking about my next race back in Europe. After all, the train never stops.

— Jit