The time changes, but not the times

Across the country a tradition of low sleep and high stress endures.

Early last week, I ran into a coach from our local youth program in the grocery store who told me she had shared The Long Road with ski racing families on March 1. It was the first time I realized I had missed this annual tradition that started in 2012. I was sad it had been so off my radar, but also happy to know that it lives on without me pressing send.

The meeting also reminded me that this is “Champs Weekend” the culminating event of the regular season, the kick-off to champs season and, for many young skiers, the pinnacle of stress for the season as well. It always coincides with the spring time change, an unfortunate coincidence for parents of kids jacked up on adrenaline, nerves, homemade cookies, group dinners and the excitement of hotel living. To whom it may concern: if it makes you feel any better when you are peeling yourself out of bed with an hour less sleep, checking out of a hotel and hauling every last shred of ski racing equipment to the site of imminent triumph or heartbreak—know that you are partaking in a sacred tradition.

I can’t believe I am saying this but, enjoy it while you can. Someday you will miss it. Even that year of driving sleet and lightning and the broken chairlift at Gunstock…ok well maybe not that one; but really, these early March weekends all hold memories of happy chaos and high drama.

ON THE OUTSIDE LOOKING IN

This is the first year I was truly “out” of ski racing, as in not having one of my own kids in it. It came with a lot of relief—less stress and anxiety, more disposable income and more time to actually ski. There were less logistical challenges of making, hauling and dispensing food for a crowd; but also less of the lodge/course-side/finish line camaraderie built of shared emotions in the trenches.

On the flip-side, I confirmed that you’re never really out of this sport. We still wake up early in the morning and check live-timing all over the world, following the stars on the World Cup, and also the kids and teams we’ve come to know and love over the years. We still lament and grumble about “the system” that moves kids out of the sport long before they’ve shown their stuff, pretty much exactly like our parents did 40 plus years ago.

I am glad The Long Road lives on because it’s as true today as when I was living it with my kids. I know I’ll get a little misty this month, every time I pass by a McDonalds poster for Shamrock Shakes and remember how many ails they cured over the years.

Another upside of not being tethered to the ski racing schedule is more time to travel and ski. Here at home I got to watch kids make training laps and also ditching into the glades in packs. I saw coaches teaching dance steps to kids in the lodge so they’d know how to fill time and stay warm. In Italy I saw smiling ski racer kids warming up in a mountain hut mid-blizzard, hustling from the bar to their group snack table, clutching a fistful of Euros in one hand and a precious stash of candy in the other. And I saw teenage ski racers in Montana proudly straining under the weight of speed skis loading them up for a road trip to their first Downhill. All of them looked bright-eyed, proud, happy and 100 percent comfortable in their skins. What more can a parent want to see?

For any parents of young ski racers out there, when the alarm goes off Sunday morning, an hour earlier than you wish it would, remember that this is the life! I’m grateful to still be a part of it whenever possible.