Reuniting with Some Things I Never Left

So I recently reunited with a best friend that I haven’t seen for 7 years. We actually broke up after a 25 year relationship that took us the distance of 10,000+ Kms – the equivalent of driving from Anchorage, Alaska to Panama City, Panama. Since we covered a lot of ground together it had been an intense relationship...we laughed...we cried.

We had long intimate moments with nature where I got to know the depths of my endurance, and even though I was grateful for all these deep connections and revelations, I felt I needed a break. I needed time to explore other parts of me and my life.

Part of the decision was that I woke up one morning and knew it was time to keep a promise to myself to live in the tropics for a few years to pursue other adventures and sports. Another reason was that I thought I had learned all I could from this friend. When we said good bye, I wasn’t sure when we’d see each other again, if ever.

but the day came when I had to be with them.

I had to know me with them again.

this best friend country racing skis.

Prepping them with my magic wax and stepping onto them again after 7 years were sacred moments. I felt like I was like stepping through veils of time and was flooded with visions of everywhere we had been together...exploring the forests of Alaska, Yukon, BC, Alberta, Saskatchewan, Manitoba, Washington, Nevada, California, Arizona and New Mexico.

I stood at the trail head and looked up at the sky through an internal kaleidescope of all that we had been together.

My intention for our reunion was to:

  • melt into our favorite flow state
  • ski about 10k – my 'go to' distance
  • celebrate at the only viewpoint I know in North America where you can see the Pacific ocean from a Nordic ski trail

What happened next was... I reunited with a place I never left

That place where my cellular memory is so infused with the techniques and motions I need to zoom through the forest with effortless ease, precision and grace. That place where I’m laser focused on what’s ahead creating my play by play for navigating it...calculating when to:

  • tuck on downhills to maximize speed and distance while breathing muscle tension out of my body
  • lean my hips into the corners while keeping my outside ski in front of the other one – saving speed accumulated downhill and avoiding anti-centrifugal wipeouts
  • start springing uphill with an impeccable weight shift so I feel like I’m floating up hill
  • break into double polling on the flats to save every ounce of momentum
  • jump out of the tracks to avoid obstacles –  like smashed tracks where someone fell – or tree debris

This is a mere handful of the things going on in my bodymind. My consciousness vortexes into an obsession with fluidly moving my body though space FAST – it’s like the speeder bike chase scene in the Star Wars V1: Return of the Jedi. I’m zooming through the snowy white forest on my pair of Magic Stix.

Since this was a Spring Equinox celebration, I reclaimed my Nordic Jedi crown, filled my body with sweet mountain air, covered about 11K, stopped to eat some snow and listen to the wind in the trees.

and Then I reunited with someone I never left 

I paid homage to:

• my competitor self who took newspaper handed out at an aid station and stuck it under my racing bib to cut the -25C wind on a long descent

• my shamanista self who trail skied at night in the moonlight to heighten my senses, balance and reflexes with the contours of the when I was outback skiing with a backpack in flat light like whiteout...I knew how to ride invisible waves of snow

• my Artemis Goddess self who lived in a tent and hunted caribou on skis – she wouldn’t have happened without knowing my moonlight skier and invisible snow

• my dancesport self who sings and grooves along gradual descents for cross sport fusion fun

I’m eternally grateful for these skinny sticks of wood and fiberglass, carbon fibre poles, Italian ski booties and my wax kit because this equipment made me strong on so many levels. Even though I didn’t get the ocean view I remembered...I'll find it next time...yes there will be a next time.



/* ====================================== ACCORDION FUNCTIONALITY ====================================== */