The Glory of God and Olympic Gold

I have always dreamed of winning an Olympic medal, and I even remember the moment I made the decision. And yes, it was a "decision."  From day one, it wasn't a mere "dream", but something I set my mind on doing and never actually questioned whether or not it was possible. With typical childhood enthusiasm, I "knew" that I was going, AND I was going to win a medal!

Even though I was young, you see, I understood something very important about the Olympic Games:  just to go was an incredible accomplishment.  To win:   the GREATEST.

But there was an element of charity in my thought process, for I wasn't going to do this for myself, but for my cousin. I recall hearing that she was training for the Olympics, and every so often we'd get updates.  The time for the Olympic trials was coming:  would she make the cut?  As I recall, she was one everyone EXPECTED to make the team. Then, the day before Trials, she was practicing some of her dives on the trampoline...and fell.  Her broken arm resulted in broken Olympic dreams and she decided to move on with her life instead of training for another four years.

I of course didn't understand why she didn't continue to train, but did, in a way, grasp her disappointment.  I couldn't do anything to help, so I decided right then that I would, someday, go to the Olympics in her honor. I never told her this, thinking to save it for the right moment. (To this day she doesn't know about this!)

That summer as we watched the Games, the first I really remember, my family asked me which sport I wanted. I liked the horses (of course!) but otherwise wasn't too sure.  Then, the following winter I happened to be flipping channels and discovered SKIING!  After watching, entranced, I decided that THAT was my sport!  After all, I knew how to jump on a sled and fly quickly down a hill. All I had to do was, well, do it standing up!

I begged and begged for skis, I begged to be taken somewhere to learn, and every weekend I waited for sports tv to come on so that I could look for skiing.  Unfortunately, Illinois is NOT a good place for aspiring ski racers and Mom deemed our sledding hill to be insufficient for my dreams. She did happen to provide a couple of red Fischer-Price "skis" for me, but after only one attempt, I realized they weren't even CLOSE to what I needed, and I refused to use them.  (The Diva in me emerged that early!).

I didn't actually get an opportunity to learn to ski until I was 17, and that day, after realizing the bunny hill was boring and useless, and I couldn't stand up, I hit the lift and went to a big hill, hoping survival mode would kick in.  It did.  As I was headed for a huge cliff and a flimsy orange snow fence, having watched other skiers for a half hour or so from the bunny hill, I knew my skis needed to go sideways TOGETHER....and I began doing parallel turns. About 5  In my 20's, my 4th time ever skiing downhill, I volunteered for the Ski Patrol....and the following fall/winter finally had the opportunity for formal instruction.  I began racing that same year, went to State Individuals that spring, and took 4th place.

Um...I should mention that there were only 4 racers in my age group.

I raced for a few years, enjoyed my time on the Ski Patrol, but my life was moving on and I had to make some hard decisions.  I realized by then (long before, actually!) that I'd never win an Olympic medal, that skiing was all I hoped it would be and more, and...very real surprise...I had a very natural ability in it!   But skiing had to go, and so the last few years haven't involved much of it for me.

I've always wondered, though, what might have happened had we grown up near a ski area of any sort, if I had REAL racing talent and whether I'd ever have the real drive and fearlessness of the greats.  The world will just have to suffer as it ponders that incredible question.

 God's Glory Revealed in Humanity

One of the things I love about the Olympics, and love even more thanks to my theological education, is the way God's Glory shines in these events.

In the Papal Encyclical, Redemptor Hominis, paragraph 10, John Paul II wrote about "Man's amazement at himself" and how God is glorified in His creation: in humanity.  As anyone familiar with his works will know, John Paul II frequently quoted the Vatican II document Gaudium et spes, 22, in how our Redeemer, Jesus, "fully reveals man to himself, making his supreme calling clear."   Over the last few years, we've frequently read this passage, regarding the human dimension of our redemption in Christ, the amazement at our very humanity, the very GIFT of our humanity. It's often been the subject of meditation, if not only mere study.

When I watch these Olympic Games, I wonder if I am experiencing perhaps one of the things John Paull II himself may have experienced when watching and participating in winter sports over the years of his life (he was an avid skier.)  I am taking note of the human ingenuity that invented so many of these sports and, in the incredible abilities of the athletes to constantly go further and faster.  I am more and more amazed at the ability of the human body not just to adapt, but to continue to push onward, to new and greater things, aided by technology, physics, all things that have, as their ultimate beginning.....God.

I even find humor in these sports we love to watch, and of course, participate in if we are able. While I tend to only watch a few of the summer games, it's the Winter Sports that have my undivided attention, and, to my way of thinking, show the greatest human ingenuity.  What do humans do in the cold, harsh conditions that cover the northern hemisphere for half the year, and the southern for the other half?

WE INVENT COOL STUFF TO DO! 


And then we compete!

We humans looked at the mountains and once we climbed them, said, "There must be a better way to get down."  Thus we have the advent of skis:  2 waxed boards can get one from summit to valley in a very short period of time!  It's not a huge jump to see how one can get from sledding to luge and skeleton and bobsleigh.   It's not hard to see how one can go from saying, "Speed isn't enough;  I wanna learn to fly!" and thus we have aerials and nordic ski jumping,  then snowboarding and skier/boarder cross...etc.

The Winter sports in general point, in some sense, to how the Glory of God is revealed in Man, and it brings me to my knees in amazement and gratitude. How BEAUTIFUL humanity is!  How incredible! What ingenuity!  What Glory of God is His creation!  As fallen as we are, as terrible and sinful, we HAVE to also take note of our beauty in the intellect and will God gave to us to be able to do such amazing things.  After all, we were created out of love, for love, to love God, and we have to see not just the sin that brought our redemption, but those things, our inherent dignity and even BEAUTY that makes us worthy of Redemption in God's own eyes!

OLYMPIC GOLD

The other day, having watched her for years now, I saw hometown girl Lindsey Vonn finally take her first Gold medal, on what was maybe one of, if not THE most dangerous, icy and bumpy downhill courses in the history of the Olympic Games. And she did it with an incredibly painful injury to her shin.  I watched her interview at the end, and cried with her, unable to help myself as it was such an emotional moment. I confess I often used to imagine what such a moment would be like! Seeing her live was a moment of joy so many of us could share with her.  I remember when she was an up-and-coming racer, and I remember her crash in Torino four years ago.  In my estimation she has really worked for this and deserves this medal!

I can't forget her tearful, joyful interview after the race.   "This is my dream! This means EVERYTHING to me! I  have sacrificed EVERYTHING for this. It means EVERYTHING to me!"

I understood her sentiment, and rejoiced, but was surprised in that I was also a little taken aback.

"Everything?"   No, I thought to myself, "...a Gold Medal isn't worth "everything."  I was further surprised to catch myself thinking, "You sacrificed EVERYTHING...for something so...finite?"

I do not mean here to denigrate ANYTHING Lindsey Vonn has accomplished. I'm THRILLED for her and remain so, and also realize that power of the moment she was in. I realize her sacrifice and that yes, she truly has sacrificed so much of herself, of everything, for so many years!  I have nothing but the greatest respect for ALL of the Olympic aspirants and athletes out there and I will forever love the Games.

Rather, I am trying to explain something going on within me that signals a change in my own values, for at one time, I would have been willing to give EVERYTHING for the chance to obtain such an award as an Olympic medal.

But...well...although Olympic Gold would mean a great deal to me, and undeniably it is supremely cool, and one of the greatest accomplishments available to mankind, well....it's not everything. And it's not worth everything. And I'm not willing to sacrifice everything to obtain it.

I realized in that moment that while our humanity and pinnacles of accomplishment reveal God's Glory, and in revealing His Glory to us, causes us to be amazed at our very humanity, in what we can accomplish, through Him, through sacrifice and suffering...I saw none other than...Jesus.  I saw the Cross, I saw our Redemption and came to a greater understanding of the love God has for us...and for Lindsey, whom He brought through her years of suffering and sacrifice to win the Gold in her moment of triumph.

"God fully reveals Man to himself, making his supreme calling clear."  (GS, 22)

Yes...He does.  And He uses everyday people to do it, and people often become His unwitting agents.

If I was going to sacrifice EVERYTHING, if I was going to give EVERYTHING, in order to possess something, I would no longer desire that that "something" be a Medal.

I want Christ Himself, and nothing else.

There is nothing else worth living for, and nothing else worth dying for...but for Him, and love of Him.

Let the world keep its medals. I don't want them anymore. I can do more and BE more with God alone.


*********

References:

***  Papal Encyclical Letter, John Paull II,  Redemmptor Hominis, 10:    ""This...is why Christ the Redeemer 'fully reveals man to himself.' If we may use the expression, this is the human dimension of the mystery of the redemption. In this dimension man finds again the greatness, dignity, and value that belong to his humanity."


* ** Vatican II Document, Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World,  Gaudium et spes, 22. "The truth is that only in the mystery of the incarnate Word does the mystery of man take on light. For Adam, the first man, was a figure of Him Who was to come, namely Christ the Lord. Christ, the final Adam, by the revelation of the mystery of the Father and His love, fully reveals man to man himself and makes his supreme calling clear. It is not surprising, then, that in Him all the aforementioned truths find their root and attain their crown.


He Who is "the image of the invisible God" (Col. 1:15),  is Himself the perfect man. To the sons of Adam He restores the divine likeness which had been disfigured from the first sin onward. Since human nature as He assumed it was not annulled,  by that very fact it has been raised up to a divine dignity in our respect too. For by His incarnation the Son of God has united Himself in some fashion with every man. He worked with human hands, He thought with a human mind, acted by human choice  and loved with a human heart. Born of the Virgin Mary, He has truly been made one of us, like us in all things except sin.


As an innocent lamb He merited for us life by the free shedding of His own blood. In Him God reconciled us  to Himself and among ourselves; from bondage to the devil and sin He delivered us, so that each one of us can say with the Apostle: The Son of God "loved me and gave Himself up for me" (Gal. 2:20). By suffering for us He not only provided us with an example for our imitation, He blazed a trail, and if we follow it, life and death are made holy and take on a new meaning.

An Observation

The "sidewalk" outside my door at my town home complex isn't so much a "sidewalk" as it is a luge course without all the cool slopes and turns.

The least they could do for what we're paying in Association fees every month is provide a luge sled so we can go from our doors to the driveway and down the block to the bus stop in record time.

It's not like anyone is actually using these areas for "walking".  A fast-running vehicle with waxed metal blades is much more appropriate to the circumstances and would get a great deal more use than the things we normally just put on our feet.

I'm just sayin'.

And for aspiring Luge Racers....come to my neighborhood...if you can't luge here, you can't luge anywhere!

Road to Vancouver

I"m a HUGE fan of Alpine Skiing. As a child I saw it once on TV one Saturday and decided then and there that I wanted to learn how to do that!  For some reason, though, I didn't find the red Fischer-Price pieces of ski-shaped plastic to be acceptable. Go figure.

Unfortunately, I didn't learn to ski until I was 17, and took a big leap when I was in my 20's to join the Ski Patrol, experiencing there my 4th time EVER on downhill skis. But it ended well...I actually went that season from being a "non-skier" to "Rookie of the Year."  Click the link for that Adoro-patented-long-winded story.

Tonight, though, I want to talk about something else:   the United States Ski Team.

Tonight, NBC sponsored a documentary about the Alpine team, Truth in Motion: Road to Vancouver.

I watched it, drooling, still wishing I was one of them. Now that I've watched the team for so many years, I am given a whole new perspective. I remember when Julia Mancuso made her debut and when Lindsey Kildow (now Vonn)  from MN crashed in the last Olympics, in a practice run, Mancuso took her medal. It was Mancuso's day, her run.  But Vonn's career has been incredible and I have to admit, where I used to admire Picabo Street, I admire Lindsey Vonn more!

But tonight, Sarah Schleper has really caught my attention.  She's had a rough road. She has been featured in commercials, and I've watched her crash and burn in far too many races. Her characteristic "ROAR!"  when she's in the gate gets my blood running, too, and brings us all tearing down the  hill with her, looking for that big finish!

There's more, though; Sarah Schleper isn't just a racer:  She's a Mom.  She and her husband, a couple years ago found that she was unexpectedly pregnant.  In the documentary she gave her initial reaction: "NO!  Not now! I want to come back!"  She knew how hard it would be, the demands of her sport, how hard she'd been working to rehab from back surgery...and spoke only of the support of the team for her impending motherhood.  They told her good luck and they'd be waiting.

Sarah CHOSE to have her baby. In a world full of people who would say, "Think of your career!  You can't ski forever!" she said YES to life!

Now, I don't see any evidence that Mrs. Schleper's formal position is that of pro-life. However, her very decision, the beauty of her child, the fact she is sacrificing herself for her child and family and has STILL managed to get to the 2010 Olympics speaks VOLUMES.

God bless her, God bless her child, her family, and I, for one, will be hoping for her success in the upcoming Olympic Games.  GO, SARAH!

Corporate Sponsorship for Vocations?

I am a HUGE fan of skiing. I miss racing, and I still have my t-shirts covered with the logos of the various sponsors of the racing programs. Each year, there are certain downhill races shown on TV, and as the camera focuses on the racer in the starting house, the racer's name and sponsors flash onto the screen:

Racer Xyzowski

Boots: Nordica

Skis: Fischer RX8

Poles: Goode Carbonate

Bindings: Atomic

That sure is a whole lotta corporate sponsorship! All those companies are supporting THAT RACER, and of course, the tradeoff is that the individual racer, especially if they do well, will make money for those sponsors. They might not outright hawk the wares, but ski enthusiasts want to know what their favorite heroes are using, and of course, they'll head right to that company hoping to get the same kinds of results. If nothing else, they want to know they're skiing every Saturday afternoon on the same stuff Hillary Lindh, Darron Rahlves, Bode Miller, or Lindsey Vonn are using when they win their World Cups and Olympic Medals.

WHAT DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH VOCATIONS??

Well, I've been thinking a lot lately. Mostly because I'm in a huge bind. I have this really unique opportunity to both visit a community or two AND go bankrupt and lose my house...all at the same time!

During the summer, as it is with many people who work for the Church, our hours are cut, and my department is down to 10 hours per week. That would come out to being 60 hours in six weeks. Which, if you do the math, isn't a lot of money, especially when we don't get paid a living wage to begin with.

Everyone around me is losing their jobs, being laid off, etc. etc., so really, why should I be any different? Losing my house wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. It sure won't help me enter a community if I (and the community) discern that's where I'm supposed to be, but, hey...God's will be done.

So here I sit, with this wonderful "problem" of time on my hands. I could conceiveably be gone for a month and only have to use forty hours of vacation time! I realized I had a choice: not pay my bills while sitting at home, or not pay my bills while visiting a community! In any case, the job situation isn't looking good, and so I've decided to cast my lot with God and focus on discernment first (ie seeking the Kingdom) and if that doesn't work out, then I'll look more seriously at the lack of other options again.

So while stressing about all of this, my eyes lit upon my skis in the corner, and I thought to myself, so I thought, "Corporate Sponsorship!"

What if people in discernment had corporate sponsors?

No, I'm not talking about the organizations that help people pay off their debt, such as the Laboure Society. Those wonderful apostolates are for people who KNOW they are called to at least enter their communities. There's whole heck of a lot of a bunch of us floating around who really only want the opportunity to take the next step to find out if God is really calling us. But we've already got the vow of poverty down pat and therefore haven't the means to move from the spots where our lives have cemented us to the ground.

This calls for an ACME Jackhammer. Is ACME available? Or maybe Spishak?

Do they do sponsorship?

What would corporate sponsorship look like?

Would a person in discernment be required to wear some kind of jacket, or habit with the logos of their sponsors printed on it with "I'm Discerning the Priesthood!" Or "I'm Discerning Religious Life!" printed underneath?

Would there be competetions? Maybe cake walks?

"Dominican-leaning discerner in chute 1 sponsored by ACME is pitted against Franciscan-leaning discerner in chute 2, sponsored by Spishak! And they're off! Oh! WAIT! We have interference from Benedictine-leaning discerner who hasn't eaten all day and has stolen the cake from Discerner 1!!! This is unprecedented!

The judges will make a ruling!

(pause)

As it turns out, the cameras show that the Dominican saw the Benedictine coming and gave him the cake, and he has testified the Benedictine looked hungry! Point to the Dominican for charity!

Wait! We have a tie! The Franciscan discerner gave his cake to an onlooker who had been insulting him and did that BEFORE the Benedictine interference! Point goes to the Franciscans! Sponsored by Spishak!"

And the next thing you know, there would be more competetions, and only the best would be accepted, and they'd have to give up their cake all the time and never get to take any home. Each community would have cake walks and BINGO to pick the right candidates, and that might warp into a habit-donning contest, while the candidates are wearing really large unweildy oven mitts and trying to get dressed in spite of that obstacle. And all the while they'd have to wear their corporate logos.

Parish festivals would turn into Vocation Circuses.

Oh, and if that discerner actually "won" their entrance into a community, well, then they'd have to be filmed on YouTube praying for the success of their sponsors and asking God to send them customers. (Hmmm....well, sounds like a pretty good tradeoff, actually), but that could be abused and the poor postulant could be completely exploited by unethical sponsors.

God forbid the poor postulant (at that point) decide to leave the monastery or discern they have a different charism! They'd have to go out and find different sponsors that would support Dominicans more than Franciscans, or Benedictines instead of Jesuits! Their own original sponsors would be completely scandalized, and might even lose business! The Discerners would be dropped like hot potatoes and maybe would be taken to court to pay back the cost of the plane ticket covered by the sponsors who sent them a few states away to discern their particular community!

A black market might form among sponsors, and bookies would start taking bets about this or that discerner, anything from how long they would last, whether they'd get airsick on the flight from the midwest to LA, whether they were Carmelite or Passionist, cloistered or active, liberal or conservative...and it would degenerate from there. They'd start creating illegal underground races, and the winners would be getting paid off by the losers, generating more Vocations funds for the Vocation Mafia...uh...I mean...Corporate Sponsors.

Hmmm....on second thought, I don't think corporate sponsorship would really be the way to go. Seems like a risky venture.

Begging:

Instead of creating all that havoc, I guess I'll go with the tried and true and holy practice of begging. Not begging without need, but only WITH need.

I started this week. Because a Sister suggested it to me, I wrote to the Vocations office, begging nicely. They responded, and they said that they will assist me, and told me to also inquire at my own parish. So I inquired, and received a response today from my own Pastor. He's looking into it.

At this point, it looks like a plane ticket might emerge from these begs...uh..professional inquiries. Ok...yeah...I was begging. Let's call it what it is. Because it is begging. When you so Po' you can't afford the "or", well, you're begging.

I still don't know how any bills are going to be paid this summer, and would love it if someone emerged to pay my mortgage and association fee.

For now, I'll worry about the plane ticket and the seemingly impending trip for serious discernment of a community with whom I've been in contact for about a year and a half now. It's time to go. I want to go. And I'd also like to visit a cloistered monastic community this summer if that step seems warranted (both by them and by me). But does GOD will it?

That's always the question. And everything, even to the last penny, flows from that question.

Jesus, I trust in thee.

Corporate Sponsors...not so much.

*

Sledding!

It's really obvious I need to write about something fun.  After a long series of serious posts about this and that and technical stuff and automotive stuff, well...let's just say some levity is in order. 

Agreed?  

Agreed. 

So, given that it's winter and even the southern states are taking a beating, well, let's first accept the fact that we can't do anything about the weather, and in that acceptance, we can find the fun that it is. 

I'm an avid skier, although I can't afford it these days, and I've never been out West, sadly.  :-( 

But I have great memories, and they go back to playing in the snow as a child.  And let's face it...our "horror stories" are the best to tell.  Like the one about the flood that happened while we were sledding in a dangerous area. 

There's another I don't think I've written about, though.  

After my family moved to Minnesota, we didn't get to do a lot of sledding, because, suddenly, we lived In Town.  (That's how we thought of it, capitalized like a title).  

In Town, there were SOME hills...but they were pathetic. Not worth our time.  They were bumps and it wasn't worth dragging a toboggan or sled or carrying it over pavement to get to six-foot (in length) "hill" that bordered a soccer field. 

The good thing was, though, that our uncle was a Park Ranger, and because they lived out at the local State Park, they also had access to great winter recreation...including the simplicity of sledding. 

I was  in maybe 9th grade (so about 14 or so) when we went out to Scrambler Hill on a dark winter evening under a full moon.  

We had to snowmobile to get there as it wasn't a hill accessable by driving.  So we dragged our sleds behind us as we slowly moved through the trails, untill we met the Queen of all sledding hills everywhere. 

This hill had SHELVES...it started out nearly flat, with a drop down to the next landing, then to the next and next.  At the bottom was what in skiing terms we called a "compression", which basically means that it flattens quickly and causes the g-forces to press upward.  Not a big deal in hiking, but a HUGE deal when moving at a fast speed!  Compressions KILL ski racers, and I mean that literally.  If they can't "absorb" the compression, they are flung into the air in really creative ways by gravity.  

Back to Scrambler:  in winters where there was a lot of snow, it wasn't a big deal.  It was ALWAYS a fun and challenging hill, but it wasn't necessarily dangerous. 

Well, THAT winter there hadn't been a lot of snow, so of course Scrambler Hill was quite..uh...bumpy.  

That evening, I remember climbing onto the plastic orange toboggan behind my cousin, who was a freshman in college.  Neither of us remembered that thing being so small.  Didn't we used to be able to fit at LEAST 3 of us on it?  

Well, apparently not anymore. 

She sat in front, I was in the back as we stared down this killer hill, the Hannenkam of Sledding.

Without a second thought, we pushed off, hit the first bump, screamed as we went airborn and came down on the slope, hit the second, screamed and went airborne again, and just as we hit the compression at the bottom, diving nose-first into the compression, I remember flying over my cousin. I remember her head striking my knees while I was still weightless, and then I plowed head-first into the thin, now-icy snow at the bottom of the drop. 

I laid there a moment, confused as to how I'd gotten there.  My neck hurt. My forehead had plowed a furrow into the ground, which thankfully allowed me to be able to breathe.  

My cousin was getting up, with her friend helping her. They were laughing, and it seemed so far away. I wanted to get up, too.  But I'd hit hard, head-first.  I knew that was bad.  

I had a sudden, panicked thought:  what if I never walked again?  What if my neck was broken?  

In my panic, I put my hands under me, thrilled they moved, and thought to myself even before the cloud of impending darkness cleared away, "If I don't stand up RIGHT NOW I'll NEVER walk AGAIN!" 

And so I pushed upward, scrambling to my feet, just as one of the guys was asking, "Are you OK?" 

"GREAT!  FINE!"

I couldn't see for a moment, and wondered how long I'd be able to stand. 

Thankfully, by then we were out of time, and decided to head back to the house.  We trudged back up the hill and mounted our snowmobiles, leaving the toboggans there to be picked up the next day via snowcat.  

When we got back to the house, both my cousin and I were quiet.  She was a nursing student, so was a bit more aware of what could have happened than I, and insisted on checking my pupils, as she'd asked her mother to do when we'd gotten home.  

It seems we were fine...but lucky.  

But I'll never forget that feeling of weightlessness, just before plowing head-first with all my force into the snowpack, and the moment of wondering if I'd never walk again. 

Now that I think of it...I think that's the last time I ever went sledding.  

Hmm. 

*

P.S.  Years later I started downhill skiing and got into racing...wanna talk about SERIOUS crashes?   Dang, I'm happy to be alive! 

 * 

What's YOUR story?

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Apres Ski

You know, you've really pretty much gotta be insane to like skiing. After all, what do skiers do but spend time outdoors during the worst part of the year, drive icy roads, even amidst blizzards, to get to a ski area. And then spend a lot of time suspended in some of the worst windchills imaginable while a chair on a cold metal cable brings them to the top of the hill, or mountain (depending upon geographic location).

And at that point, while they are nearing the block of ice point of their body temperature, they point their two sticks (or platform, if they are a snowboarder) down the hill and increase the windchill even more.

And the equipment! It's an exercise in agony just to put the boots on, and requires inhuman strength to buckle the hard plastic, especially of racing boots. Those same boots that cause perma-bruising on the shins where you thrust your weight againts the tongue of the boot, which is effectively the "steering wheel".

And racers! Even more insane. They get into the wind-tunnel that is the starting house, sans jacket, wearing a speed suit, gloves, and helmet, and then turn between the sticks as quickly as possible, so as not to actually freeze to death by standing still.

Yeah. I LOVE skiing! And I MISS racing!

Last night I skied with one of the other chaperones, able to fulfill my desire to ski with someone better than I am. He raced in high school and college, we had a blast talking about the sport of insanity, and drooled watching a team rip through the gates last night.

I couldn't be my speed-deamon self, though, because I had to re-learn how to ski, the fine points of technique, and realized I didn't want to die while I was a chaperone. That would just be embarassing. So I worked on short-to-medium radius turns, correct positioning, etc. My technique was just awful. I couldn't get myself to stay forward, which isn't good; my skis were purchased for racing and they have a specific "sweet spot" that requires I be balanced over it just so. To let my weight remain in the "back seat" actually causes an unstable position, doesn't allow the ski to do it's work, and, especially when hitting compressions (which is where a hill flattens out quicky), lends to greater risk of being "ejected". And that's almost worse than just a regular crash! So last night I found that my abilities were coming back slowly.

Unfortunately, because of the cold weather, half the lifts were closed and in order to stay close to the chalet we spent most of our time on the biggest slopes, which were also the steepest. What I really needed was some time on the longer cruisers (intermediate slopes) so that I could have gotten my confidance and technique back. Although that might not have made a difference; the snow was like styrofoam and we all really had to "work" our skis. It's hard to get an edge into that stuff. Or once you get your edge, the snow grabs it and you STILL have to fight to do what want.

And I spent the entire evening in a slightly hypothermic state. Even last night, after I got home and went to bed, I just shivered under the comfortor.

But now I'm up, I'm drinking coffee, and about to walk the dog.
But hey...at least I got to go skiing this year!

Skiing!

This afternoon/evening I'm going to chaperoning a ski trip, and I've been looking forward to the experience.

Yes, in these frigid, frigid temps, I will be VOLUNTARILY outside. In the cold. Having fun.

Although I'm questioning my sanity just a bit, but not because of the temps; because of my equipment.

As you recall, I got my gym membership after I realized I can't fit into my snowpants. So I'm substituting windbreaker pants with more layers underneath, which I still suspect will be inadequate.

Back in November, I took my skis and boots to the ski shop to have my skis tuned (they needed more than just wax), and got a boot check done. This tests the bindings to ensure they release when they are SUPPOSED to release, hopefully preventing an injury. And ever since my time as a Ski Patroller, having had to treat injuries such as boot-top fractures resulting from binding release failure, well, I'm not wiling to undergo that kind of agony if I can prevent it through equipment maintenance.

But there is one thing I overlooked...I have not been wearing my boots around. This may not seem like a huge deal to you, however, keep in mind; my boots haven't been used in a couple years. That means they aren't "packed down". They do "pack" a bit in usage even the first time out, but in this cold it's going to take longer. The plastic is not going to be as flexible as I need it to be, and my ankles and shins are no longer conditioned to the pain that goes with proper skiing. I just put my boots on a few minutes ago....oh, the agony! I can barely put any pressure on the front of the boot before pain shoots up my leg! And my knees....oy, I'm going to pay for this!

But I'm going, I'm going to have a blast, even if I'm crying every moment.

And I'm really hoping that my boots pack down better than it seems. Besides, I'll be wearing proper socks (thin wool ones) which should make a difference.

I'm not looking forward to the pain...and praying that I can ski well in spite of it!

Skiing and the Spiritual Life

A couple weeks ago, an old friend called me up during the blizzard and his first words to me were, "That's white gold falling out there!"

I agreed. I love skiing, but I haven't gone in over a year. If I don't make it out this season, it'll be two years that my beloved sport is being neglected by me. That just isn't a good thing.

We planned to go to a local ski area this week, and I went to sleep that night with dreams composed of carving arcs on bright white snow, the feeling of the frigid air on my cheeks, and the sound of the rushing wind whistling in my ears. The rememberance of my last race, the flashing gates, the sound of my edges holding an impossibly small margin as I extended briefly into the apex of my turn in order to be kicked smoothly into the next. The power contained in the balance between control and loss of control - soaring...seeking...flying...

Pope John Paul II was also a HUGE fan of skiing, and I suspect that he found the same freedom in the sport that all we enthusiasts do; there is a purity in the movements and in the sport itself arising from the very cooperation with God and His Creation. We utilize Creation and the elements and in doing so, we soar, we are joyful, and the only thing we can do is praise God for the beauty of the earth He created and the fun we can create out of what would otherwise be nought but a hardship.
I love skiing. Did I mention that?

But there are lessons to be found in skiing that go beyond the sport. Father Corapi likes to use military metaphors, which are easily understood, but perhaps don't appeal to everyone. I like to use skiing metaphors, and admittedly, those won't appeal to everyone, either, but much of what I learned from skiing can be learned from other sports as well.

Some of the lessons I learned from skiing which also apply to the spiritual life::

* Always ski with someone who is better than you are; it keeps you humble, it forces you to go beyond your own bounaries in order to keep up, and it forces you to grow in ability and mastery of your skills.

* Don't be afraid of crashing. If you're not crashing, you're not trying hard enough.

* If you want to be good, you need the right equipment; if you're not willing to invest yourself you'll never make it. But don't go overboard; to do so makes you a slave. Elitism only makes you look like an idiot.

* People are just moving slalom poles. Plot your course, maintain control, and be prepared to react quickly when something suddenly comes your way.

* If you crash into or because of someone else, even if it's their fault, apologize and help them pick up their stuff.

* When you get off the ski lift, don't stop where you are if your're not ready to move on. Get out of the way and let others pass you.

* If you find out that you are in over your head, just keep a good lookout, go slowly, fall back upon the basics, and don't be afraid to ask for help. It's better than pretending you know more than you do and end up being carted off in a toboggan.

* If you come upon an accident and are in charge of marking the spot by setting your skis into the snow in an an upright "X" pattern, make sure you're wearing gloves when you do so. Those edges are sharp!

* Take care of your equipment; use the approprate wax, wipe the skis down after use, and be sure to keep them in top form. Proper care of the fundamental tools can prevent injury and even save your life.

* Don't be afraid of pain; when it hurts, it means you're doing something right, especially early on in the season. Just remember; there is such a thing as "good" pain and "bad" pain. If you can't figure out which is which, then find a coach to train you properly.

* At the top of the hill as you begin your run, fix your eyes on your goal and don't ever lose that focal point. You will thus be able to see and react to everything between you and that point and be able to react accordingly. Your focal point affects your form, your course, and directs your abilities as well as your attitude.

* The feeling of fallng is normal if you're in the correct position; it's what drives your forward movement. Trust is key.

* Always remember that no matter how much you know, there is still more to be gained and further progress to be made. No one is ever done learning, no matter how phenomenal they seem to be from the outside.

* Always be ready to learn from those you instruct.

* Skiing is not about rewards; if you're doing it for rewards you're missing the point.

* If you are true to the sport, do it with integrity - people will follow. Don't set out to change other people - be good and people will change to be like you. (Fr. V.)

* If someone of lesser ability asks to ski with you, welcome them along, don't push too hard, and be prepared to eat their powder; if you teach them correctly and with integrity, they may surpass you in ability in knowledge. Let them go, and be humble enough to follow in their tracks.

Barbaro - Rest in Peace

The news broke today that Barbaro, last year's Kentucky Derby winner, was euthanized today.

I remember cheering him to an amazing win at the Derby, and my "money" was on him as I watched him in the Preakness. What an incredible horse! Undefeated! This little colt might really have what it takes to win the elusive Triple Crown!

I remember the sinking feeling when he broke through the gate prior to the start of the Preakness, the second jewel of the Trible Crown, realizing that when that happens, the race is done for that hapless horse. The dream has been dashed by his overly-abundant spirit.

He was reloaded just the same, ready to go, still fighting to run as he'd been born to do.

And then when the line finally broke from the gate, I remember watching him flail, still trying to run, still trying to compete even with a shattered cannon bone. The jockey, Edgar Prado, pulled him up quickly, but there was nothing he could do. Nothing.


Had it been any other horse, he would have been put down on the spot. But no; this colt had promise, and his owners hoped for a miracle. This colt had already captured hearts with his spirit and his dominance on the track. Is it unreasonable to ask that, perhaps, a miracle might happen?

And so they did their best, and fans from all over supported their efforts to save such a promising colt, one who may have commanded prime stud fees in the hope of progeny with his fire.

The article I read today noted an acknowledgment that his owners were not even certain he could stand at stud, for he may be too weak. (As an aside; the regulations surrounding registered racehorces specify that the progeny of a stud must be concieved naturally, not through a laboratory). And still, they continued to work with him, to rehab him in favor of saving his life.

I'm sure some of this was loyalty and sentiment; they had gone so far to try to save him,setback after setback, and when one is committed to such a course, one must stay the course. I'm certain there was social pressure; for so many made donations to assist with the high cost of the surgeries and rehab for Barbaro.

But in the end, in spite of the hope, in spite of the money spent, in spite of everything done on behalf of an equine hero, he has fallen. Nothing more could have been done; those who worked so hard to save his life had to give up in defeat. His injury was just too severe, the complications neverending, the complications, in the end, an insurmountable hurdle.

I am a huge fan of horseracing, thanks to Walter Farley and Marguerite Henry. Thanks to the Black Stallion, Man O'War, and my Dad, who encouraged my interest by bringing me to the local racetrack on my 16th birthday.

I used to want to become a jockey, wanted to become a trainer, dreamed of riding a horse like Barbaro to a Triple Crown victory. A few years ago, while researching the fictional story I began when I was twelve and have resurrected, I obtained a snapshot of life on the backside; life behind the scenes.

In many ways, the horses are simple commodities, but some really stand out. Some become heroes not only to the fans, but to those who work with them. Some show true promise, and everyone, everywhere, is out there looking for the next big horse. The next champion.

The vast majority of racehorses are "claimers", and we never know their names. Their owners play them like cards, just trying to get into the game and stay afloat, yet it grabs them and pulls them in, in spite of the cost, in spite of the aggravation, having promising horses claimed out from under them, in spite of the chance. Because it's a rush, it requires strategy, and because of the people involved. Everyone has a story; every horse has a story, and sometimes, that story ends in the history books. This is the holy grail those of racing seek, even as they work among lowly claimers.

I don't think most people understand what a horse like Barbaro means to those behind the scenes; he can be representative of that horse they all dream about, the "Big One", the "Next Great Horse". The one that never comes. Most people never get to experience a truly great horse, even after a lifetime in the business.

So even those who pitted their racers against Barbaro are affected when one like him goes down. It's a true tragedy, for the blood in his veins is attainable, and even his very existance is inspirational to the entire sport. Racing needs a horse like him, and sadly, as his career was cut short, his story is unfinished and we will never know what he was capable of; we will never know how great he could have been.

Barbaro is now on the books as one of the beloved of American racing, his name forever written with the likes of Seabiscuit, Ferdinand, and Ruffian.

Horseracing, in all its excitement, in the tidal wave it is, is also wrought with heartbreaking tragedy.




Barbaro was a horse who had the heart to go all the way; but in the end, he has become a poster horse for the harsh reality of the tragic end of an amazing and nearly unattainable dream.

Beggar to Rookie of the Year...a story of God's Grace

When I was a little girl, I watched competetive Alpine (downhill) skiing on TV, and I was so intrigued and fired up that I begged my parents to take me to a ski hill to learn. Mom told me that there wasn't anywhere to go nearby (we lived in Byron, IL), and that it was too expensive, anyway.

As an aside...

Parents, NEVER do this to your children! I was a shy wallflower of a child. Expressing an interest such as this was a BIG DEAL and I was CRUSHED until adulthood because the almighty dollar became Satan in our lives. That's a different story, but relevant. It became the reason "not to do" a lot of things, instead of just trusting in God to provide! Parents, let your children try stuff, and don't let finances be the be-all-end-all to all decisions! Trust God, not money!  Thank you!  

Back to programming.....

We had a pair of red plastic Fischer-Price "skis" likely purchased at Ben Franklin's in downtown Byron (pop. 2,000), and I took them to the neighbor's hill across the street...and was sorely disappointed. I might have been a child, but I knew "profane" from "legitimate" skis. These were definitely PROFANE.

I remember waking from a dream when I was about 7 or so...I dreamed that I had been able to obtain a pair of skis...and when I opened my eyes, there they were! But as I reached for them, they disolved and I awoke, just as had my dream-horse in the back yard. Such is the life of a child.

I gave up on a lot of things as I got older, but a couple incessant longings remained:  to own a horse (still not realized, but came close, still a goal), and the desire to learn to ski.

Fast forwarding...when I was 17, I finally went skiing for the first time...and when the bunny hill just wasn't teaching me anything other than how to tip over on flat ground, I jumped on the lift and I went to the top. It looked like a small hill...I later learned it was a "blue square", or an intermediate run. Meaning people skiing on it should actually have some faction of control. Not me. This took place at Afton Alps in Afton, MN, and while it was no mountain to real mountain people...it was HUGE to me! I remember being excited to be gathering speed and still in a vertical position...until the hill took a sharp downward and right-hand curve..forcing me to either go through the snow fence and over the cliff or learn how to turn. I learned how to turn and that became my favorite hill.

Fast forward again. My third or forth time skiing, I went to Wild Mountain in Taylors Falls, MN, at the age of 25 or so. I was taking an EMT class at the time and I saw the ski patrol. I knew they were volunteer, but more importantly...they were SKIING AND using the training I was then learning. I spoke to the patrollers that day, and that same week, the season ended due to spring temps...and spring.

Praise God that the Patrol Director never got the chance to ski with me..he would have said, 

"NO WAY!"

I was honest when I told him that I was a novice skier, but my medical training and NREMT score was tempting to him...so he said "Yes" over the phone and signed me up for training.

The medical part, Outdoor Emergency Care, was the same thing as EMT but academically easier, and the practicals MUCH more in-depth, more realistic...and so far better. But the hill training..I still had to pass that in order to earn the right to wear the red jacket with the white cross.

We had a warm fall, and a warm winter...right up until near Christmas. I was nervous...I knew I needed to prove myself, and I needed to work hard, but I didn't have the snow required for this.

Finally, the temps fell, and finally runs were open. I went out with some fellow classmates from OEC, to the two open runs...a "Blue" and a "Black" run, respectively. I had purchased skis at a second hand store, but they were both too long and too stiff for me...and I couldn't turn...and in the warm temps and resulting sticky snow...I couldn't ski more than 5 feet without falling over.

A friend of mine from class, took me to the top of the black run, "Wild", and instructed me to follow him. He never had any formal lessons, just learned as I was...but as a child when the ground was closer and fearlessness was a given. He instructed me, "Hold your hands out as if you're handing someone a couple of beers. Keep your hands like that and follow me, turn where I turn.."

Two of our OEC instructors, a husband and wife team, stood at the top watching this. J said, "I don't think this is a good idea..." I didn't think it was a good idea, either. But I trusted my friend, and as fearful as I was, I wanted to wear the coveted red jacket more. I followed...and I didn't crash even once.

Another Patroller, an experienced Hill Instructor, was there that evening and, apparently impressed by what he saw (I was doing parallel turns, apparently that was amazing), he gave me my first ski lesson ever.

From that point on, every time I went up to ski, which was about 4-5 times per week, or more, I got a lesson whether I wanted one or not. I got to know the Patrollers and Instructors, they got to know me, and this was a group of people willing to give someone a leg up, as impossible as it seemed. One instructor in particular, one of our hill instructors, took me under his wing. He was an ex-member of the US Ski team (I have yet to verify this officially although on my own shift I skied with an ex-US Ski team Nordic Ski Jumper), he was a PSIA Level III instructor, and became an Examiner that year. He was a phenomimal skier, and he and another Level I Instructor took me under their wings and taught me the basics and the meat.

During formal hill training, initially I and another woman were seperated from the rest of the group because we didn't have the proficiency, but finally, they let me join for the toboggan training. They deemed that my skiing was proficient enough to be able to safely handle the toboggan and not kill anyone. . The other woman was a grad student, and she did not complete this part of the training because of her grad school schedule. She passes out of this segment, and to date, remains on the Patrol as far as I am aware.

I worked hard, I put in the "mileage" as they put it, and a week before the dreaded hill test, they gave us a practice session. I had not crashed in weeks, but for some reason, once we got to that test, I did nothing but crash!  They told me to do a medium radius turn: I crashed. They told me to do a hockey-stop:  I crashed. They told me to traverse and kick turn: I crashed.

This was a mini-judgment day. It was like trying to qualify for the Olympic team...

and I did nothing but crash. 

 That evening, as I sat in the "lounge" waiting for my dreaded meeting with the Patrol Director, I was approached twice. First by one of the hill instructors, who had a daughter about my age. He gave me the "Dad" speech.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself. You are here at all hours and you just can't keep it up. Something has to give. You need a break before the test. You can't keep driving yourself so hard and burning the candle at both ends." I almost cried. It was the first time I realized that they actually KNEW how hard I was working and how disappointed in myself I was.

Finally, he left me alone. Then my "trainer", the ex-US Ski team patroller/ Instructor approached, and he gave me the "coach" speech. He told me that I was expecting too much out of myself, I had become one of the stronger skiers of the group but if I didn't settle down I wouldn't make it.

Then we got to the formal meeting. I met with both the Patrol Director and the  Ex-ski-team guy, who was my main instructor (I am privileged...he is expensive and his lessons for me were free). We three conferred on my ability to do the job. Was I qualified to take the test?

P. the phenomenal skier/trainer told me in the face of the Patrol Director:

"You skied like s*** tonight. If this had been the test you would have failed."

I agreed.

He went on, "But we look at potential. You have become one of our strongest skiers on the entire Patrol, and if you keep it up, you are only going to get better. But not like this. You need a break. Some people won't make it tonight, but it's not just because of tonight, but because of every performance. We do not see tonight as being typical of your skiing."

I held my breath, and they told me they would allow me to take the test. I nearly collapsed in relief and joy!

It was the following Saturday, and yes, I passed with flying colors. God is good! I consider this one of my crowning achievements.

I also began racing that winter, and was already doing so by the time I took the test. I was miserable at it, but  loved the challenge. But I found a flaw...succeeding at racing was NOT the same as succeeding at the Patrol, and I found that I was overly-goal-oriented but couldn't deliver.

I knew intellectually what I needed to do, but I couldn't make my skis obey. I couldn't live up to my expectations, and this lead to much frustration.

Now...why is ANY of this relevant to ANYTHING? 

Because we ALL have stories like this. We all have successess we worked hard for, and subsequent challenges we were unable to meet.

For myself, and as it relates to current Catholic culture and defense...well, I learned that I have a competetive streak I never knew I had. I learned that I can accomplish the impossible with LOTS of help, but that doesn't mean I can do it all.

I also recieved an excellent example of the manifestation of Christ to others. Remember...EVERY TIME I went up to the hill, I got a lesson, and I never had to ask. In fact, I would have preferred to have been left alone. But they wouldn't. In looking back, when I passed that test, a lot of people won. It wasn't about me, it wans't about the Patrol, but rather, it was about all the people who literally pushed me through the obstacle I wasn't sure I could overcome.

Then when I got "good", I got full of myself. I knew I had a lot to learn, no doubt. I did not pretend to be the skier I could never be, but I still held the expecation that I could overcome...and it wasn't to happen. I was a decent racer, but not a GREAT racer. I didn't have the time or the experience or the money to focus on racing. As much as I loved it, it was not to be. But that didn't make me stop trying or feeling the rush of a "personal best". Nothing like being in the moment, being in "the zone".

I often wonder about this. I look back on my life, and I wonder why I have succeeded at something which required so much. What place does this have in God's kingdom? What does this have to do with mine or anyone else's salvation?

In turning it over, I have come to a few conclusions: I learned about how to be generous in an everyday kind of way. Consider all the people who helped me. When I started, I really wanted to pass the hill test and become a patroller, but had you seen my lack of skiing ability, you would have rolled your eyes...as did many patrollers and fellow classmates. And yet, they stepped up to the plate. They did not accept me at face value and subsequently dismiss me as hopeless, but rather, they welcomed me to their "family" and BOOSTED me far beyond anyone's expectations.

 Is not God's hand in this? Is there not a lesson here?

And personally, more intimately, I learned that I had a competetive streak. I learned that I had an iron rod in my spine and once I had a goal in mind, there was no stopping me. I learned about my own willingness to work hard for something "impossible". On the flip side, I learned that I was also very sulky when things didn't go well. I won't go so far as to say that I was a sore loser as I never begrudged anyone their earned spot, but I was very hard on myself when I did not meet my own expectations.

Now, I have to take and apply these things. It's not a matter of being competetive anymore, or a matter of skiing well. Now it's a matter of wanting to defend Christ.

Jesus, the Church, rather than skiing, is my ultimate passion. The Church is my home, my family, and when it is attacked, I feel that old biting edge and I'm ready to go.

But the problem is this; I'm not really READY to go! I don't know enough, I'm not disciplined enough, and I'm a loose cannon. My Catholocity is like my novice skiing...I am alll over the place and crashing everywhere, even in front of the people who know what they're doing and doing it well. I'm getting in my way and into the way of others.

As in skiing, I need an instructor or two, I need the kind of training that will check me every time I go into it. I need someone standing over me with a ruler to measure my ability (or lack thereof) because the LAST thing I want to do is to go into the DaVinci Class in Eden Prairie and dishonor the Church and lose souls because I'm overzealous and undertrained.

I trust in God, but not in myself and my own abilities.

I learned that I love the speed and the challenge, but when I focus on these things, I lose out on the goal. I'm Bode Miller, in other words. (Skiers will know what I'm talking about).

We all have stories to tell. We all have had to learn things in strange ways and thats what makes life interesting.

I realize that I am well within another lesson, but I really feel like I am doing this without an instructor and without the textbook. I have lots of resources, sure...but no lesson plan.

I'm a Catholic in need of a lesson plan and a test that isn't part of the real thing, and it's hard to accept the fact that being Catholic isn't just a class...it's reality, and the final result of the tests we take every day will not appear for a very long time.

What am I trying to say? To pay attention to today's lessons, to write it all down, and when this crisis or achievement has passed, you'll learn the lesson in reverse but use the knowledge going forward.

God bless you all, especially if you got this far without falling asleep. And if you fell asleep while trying...well, then sweet dreams, my friend!