August 2010Boiling water
I attended a meeting a while ago with a speaker who was talking about the huge difference that a seemingly small change can make. When you have water at 99 degrees, you have hot water. Now increase that by just 1 degree and the water boils. Then what can you do with it? Well, you can run a train for one thing.
I sat down with Mark Seland from Canadian Pacific at the beginning of the summer; he told me that roughly 90% of the goods in any given individual’s household are at one point or another transported on a train.
Pretty amazing to think of what a difference 1 degree can make.
As I write this I’m 30,000 feet in the air, taking the LONG trip down to Valle Nevado in Chile. It will be the first time I have skied since the Paralympic Winter Games last March. The journey to Sochi starts after 16 hours in two different planes, 3 hours in a bus up a 72 switch back one lane road, to what feels like the peak of the world, where I will live with my team mates for 2 weeks and focus on nothing but skiing. Starting in the sunny 25 degree Vancouver weather, and finishing in the Chilean winter. The possible 40 degree drop in temperature in early September could certainly prove to be a shock to the system.
Valle Nevado presents many challenges, altitude being a considerable one. Living at 10,000 feet for over 2 weeks is exhausting enough on its own, especially for someone like me who lives exactly 4 floors above sea level; doing it while skiing everyday is always a test of your mental and physical fitness.
I am eager to start skiing.
1 month ago, I wasn’t so sure I would be ready to say that, let alone actually live it. My summer has been amazing. I’ve been able to do all those things that I passed up in past summers in order to train. I feel refreshed and excited to simply go out on the mountain and ski.
I head out there looking to enjoy skiing and search for what I hope will be my one extra degree that will power the train for the next 4 years. After 8 years on the team, I know what it takes, I know what I have to do and I know how to prepare to perform. The only thing left to do, is to do it.
I think a large part of the eagerness comes from the fact that I’ve taken time to enjoy the sunshine this summer. It has taken a weight off my shoulders. I got incredible support from my team, sponsors and family to enjoy the time.
I’m sure the pressure of 2010 being over in some way helps. I will forever be grateful for what 2010 has done for my career, both on and off the ski hill. I am a better person and skier for the many experiences that I have had over the past 8 years, and the incredible people I’ve met along the way will help to shape my life well into the future. But, an event of that magnitude brings with it incredible pressure and expectations. I had high expectations for my results and I didn’t achieve them. When you don’t perform up to your expectations after such an incredible effort to get to that point, it is heartbreaking. But when you shoot for something so high, regardless of the outcome, it is amazing what you achieve all along the way. What I learned from my failures has made me a stronger person and will bring success with it, there is no doubt.
So off I go. On the plane to Toronto to meet the rest of my team mates, on to another plane to reach the airport in Santiago Chile and then up a 72 switch back road onto another adventure that will surely bring with it many incredible experiences that I can’t even begin to imagine.
That is, of course, except for a few podium performances along the way.
And, in case you didn’t know, at 10,000 feet, at the peaks of the Andes, water boils at a lower temperature.
All aboard.
Seeing the line
I’ve spoken to many of my fellow winter athletes this summer and the feeling is pretty unanimous that we aren’t quite ready to start skiing yet. The past winter and spring took a lot of energy and we are enjoying the sunshine and the time away from our ski boots.
I have been able to participate in many different events this summer and have thoroughly enjoyed them. Softball, golf, surfing, spending time with my family, mountain biking and I even took sailing lessons for the first time in my life. It has been great to get back to some of the things I haven’t been able to do these past summers, and even try something completely new.
As I started the summer I was willing to sacrifice a little bit of training time, in order to be mentally refreshed. Mentally I feel great, still enjoying the summer and honestly glad we don’t start skiing until September this year. Physically I am great; more mountain biking combined with concise gym time and more rest than previous summers has proven a great combination. I suppose it isn’t surprising, but my body has responded very well to the rest time. Overall I am refreshed and clear headed heading into the training season.
I am excited for the rest of summer, but I am also starting to get excited to ski. I know this because I’m starting to “see the line” in everything I do.
In skiing we talk about the line all the time. Every race course has an optimum line you can take to get to the bottom as fast as possible. It’s just like race car drivers; they don’t necessarily follow the closest line on the inside of the pavement all the way around the track. Sometimes you have to take a wider turn and sacrifice a little bit of ground, in order to carry the maximum speed through the rest of the course.
When the summer started I really didn’t want to think much about skiing. Now, as I ride my bike, I see this same line. When I drive my car, I see the line; hopefully the police don’t see me.
On my first sailing lesson the instructor was showing us how to carve the boat across the wind. Now when I say carve, I truly do mean carve; the boat tilts to what seems like a 90 degree angle and knifes its way through the water. For the four of us on board with the instructor, it was a very unnerving feeling. We really didn’t feel like going for a swim in the icy Pacific, and we had no idea as to how far the boat truly could tip, before my prosthetic leg became an anchor. I started wondering if the lifejacket they handed me from the kids’ bin would keep me afloat long enough to watch the boat ride off into the wind.
After a few nervous moments I looked at the instructor only to discover that he wasn’t nervous at all. I figured we were in good hands and we all learned to live with the angles that the boat could create. It was at this moment that I started to see my skis again. Just like my skis knife through ice like a hot knife through butter, when the angles of a boat are just right, it knifes through the water completely unaware of the waves that crash against its bow.
While the sports are two worlds apart, from the high peaks of the mountains to the massive expanse of the ocean, and while I may be an expert on the hill, and a complete beginner out on the water, I see similarities. Just as I see the line on the water, I see it on the road, and on my bike.
It’s events like this that get me excited for the winter to come. September training in Chile is less than a month away and I’m starting to get that itch. I can already feel my ski carving and I’ve fallen asleep a few nights with visions of the fastest line down the Valle Nevado Super G course in my head.
On a completely different subject, check out the new public speaking tab on my website. I am excited to be making progress with my public speaking. I am currently working on a promotional video that I hope to have out by September. So if you or someone you know is looking for a keynote/motivational speaker, please let me know.
Lighter side of life
I recently did a little tour of many of the McElhanney offices throughout British Columbia and Alberta. The first trip was on Vancouver Island and covered Nanaimo, Courtney and Campbell River. I was travelling with COO John Blair and met him at the ferry terminal in Horseshoe Bay packed and ready to go for our three day road trip. When packing John and I discussed the small possibility that we may be able to get away and play a few holes of golf somewhere during the adventure. That was a pretty easy sell for me so I brought along my golf bag, shoes and prosthesis that I wear for golf. I also brought along gym wear for 3 days in order to do my workouts, and 3 days worth of semi formal attire for the evening Centenary functions that my long time sponsor was celebrating.
What’s my point? I showed up to meet John carrying along a set of golf clubs and a standard (for me anyway) size luggage bag on wheels. Now when I say standard, I’m talking skier standard. John was very kind in his words, but what he really wanted to say was “What did you bring in here?” I suppose when you put in a nearly 10 lb prosthetic, with a few pairs of shoes and clothes for 3 days into a reinforced roller bag weighing 10 lbs empty, it might be a little bit of overkill for a 3 day business trip. Add my golf bag on top of that, and I suppose I looked a little ridiculous walking up to the ferry terminal waiting area. John was quick to point out his tightly packed 20 lb business travel bag that would easily last him more than the allotted 3 days.
I tried to defend myself, but let’s be honest…there isn’t much of a defence.
So I thought I’d at least explain a little bit about my world of travelling. You have heard a lot about the adventures on the hill and my thoughts going through race and training preparation, some of the thrills and spills of everyday life as a ski racer. But what I haven’t explained much is how we manage to move 20-30 people around the world together in unison; quite honestly it’s a full time job in itself.
Let’s take this year’s upcoming summer training camp in Chile for example.
My team mates and I will all meet up for the first time in the Toronto Airport with visions of perfect turns in our heads. But the road to those perfect turns will be….heavy.
There will be about 10 athletes heading to Chile this year; each and every one of us will carry a MINIMUM of FOUR PAIRS OF SKIs. We typically put 4 pairs of skis in one ski bag that weighs somewhere in the neighbourhood of the airline maximum of 70 lbs. More often than not we all approach the check in line with our fingers crossed we get a nice attendant and he/she won’t actually weight our bags. Sit skiers will of course travel with their sit skis, weighing in at about 50lbs, and everyone will have a duffle bag of 50-60 lbs (ski boots are not light). Add on top of all that, two ski technicians carrying tools to be able to do anything in any weather conditions, a physiotherapist with all her medical equipment, a doctor carrying more medical equipment just in case, coaches carrying their ski equipment along with a minimum of 70 gates for training, and throw on top of all that a dryland box weighing in at 50 lbs, two spins bikes for cooling down at the end of the day, some ski poles for good measure and you are everyone behind you in line’s worst enemy. We don’t make any friends at airports.
Whenever we travel we typically rent a U-Haul sized truck and fill it to the brim. We’ve killed the brakes on a number of hill descents, but we do have the packing and unpacking down to an exact science. We can unpack thousands of pounds of equipment and have it ready to go in the most remote of ski locker locations in 30 minutes flat.
More often than not you can hear the mutter under a lot of my team mates’ breaths wishing they had chosen to be swimmers instead.
Some of our team’s adventures, you truly have to see to believe. Travelling light is definitely not in our repertoire. We will get 10 athletes, and 8 staff, from towns all across Canada, each with at least 150 lbs of luggage, through the Toronto Airport, through the 12 hour flight, onto some truck the Chileans call safe, up the 71 switchback turns and 10,000 ft of vertical, into the make shift tuning room made with cages in the underground garage, all in order to slide down a hill as fast as possible. It may sound crazy, it may even be crazy, but it’s the key to our success.
So I may not pack light (I did get my McElhanney travel bag down to a back pack). But at least I come by it honestly. And let’s face it, it could be worse. I could have been an equestrian rider.
Downtime
I’m happy to say I’ve been having a bit of trouble coming up with a topic to discuss this month. Typically throughout the course of a month, somewhere in my travels something pops into my head that spurs on many ideas, and eventually it manifests itself into some coherent piece of writing I like to call my blog.
This past month has been a combination of continuously reliving the events of the past winter, and looking ahead to what I need to do to be successful in the future both in and out of skiing.
I’ve attended a number of events in the past month and met hundreds of curious people who want to know what it was like to ski in the Paralympic Winter Games. The honest answer is I STILL can’t quite put it into words. I have come to the conclusion that it is likely going to take a long time to fully comprehend just what those moments meant. I suspect it will be a day long after my skiing career is over when I can truly reflect and realize the magnitude of everything that has occurred.
Looking ahead, I’m in the process of figuring out how to best juggle skiing and school. I have every intention to compete through the Sochi 2014 Paralympic Winter Games. My parents are already starting to save their pennies. Just think what an incredible experience Russia will be. I have 2 years to finish of my BBA degree at Simon Fraser University, and my plan is to have that completed in order to pass from a career in skiing to a career in business when all is said and done.
Finally I want to get my voice out there and do more public speaking. I’ve had some great success with sharing my story over the past 4 years and I want to continue to spread the word about what’s possible after cancer, what it’s like to represent your country at the world highest level, and the story of the Paralympics.
Overcoming cancer at the age of 6 has led to a lot of incredible experiences in my lifetime, far more than I or my family could have ever imagined. I hope that my story can help others overcome obstacles throughout their lifetimes.
As for right now, it’s back to the gym. Sochi will come faster than you know it.
Aftermath
The past six weeks since the end of the 2010 Paralympic Winter Games in Vancouver and Whistler has continued to be a thrill and has brought some incredible opportunities to share my story.
I had the opportunity to do a keynote speech for the Children’s Wish Foundation Gala dinner in Calgary about three weeks ago. Whenever I do a speech or write a blog it gives me the opportunity to reflect on the past and learn. Shortly before the Wish Foundation dinner I was at home, and I picked up my Paralympic torch from my parents. I had given them the torch because they were going to have a chance to see a lot more people during the games than I was due to my competition schedule. When I picked it up I realized that I carried the torch one day after my mom’s birthday, March 8th, 2010. That happens to be 20 years and 1 day after my original diagnosis with Ewings Sarcoma on March 7th, 1990.
My father said it best, “Never did we imagine that 20 years from that day, we would be standing in Whistler watching you light the cauldron.”
Reflecting back on that day over 20 years ago, brought me a renewed perspective on what a diagnosis like that means to a child and his/her family. Programs like the Children’s Wish Foundation are invaluable in helping those people and it was an honour for me to be able to contribute to such a worthy cause.
Two weeks ago I, along with many of the other Olympian and Paralympians, had the opportunity to go to Ottawa. While Parliament was in session, we walked onto the floor of the House of Commons to a standing ovation from the nation’s MPs. Being in the building was an incredible honour, but being on the floor, and realizing when I turned around that Stephen Harper was the man directly behind me, was another once in a lifetime experience that I will never forget. Meanwhile, while the last group of athletes was walking into the room, the entire House of Commons, unrehearsed and unplanned, broke out into “Oh Canada”. That gave me chills and still does just to think about it.
After the speaker of the house took the time to acknowledge all of the 200 or so athletes in attendance, we walked back out and into another building for a reception with the Prime Minister and the speaker of the house. There each medalist was presented with a flag that was flown on Parliament Hill during the Olympic or Paralympic Winter Games. Stephen Harper gave a completely unrehearsed speech during which he was very emotional about how great it felt for him to have all the athletes in the House of Commons to celebrate the completion and success of the Games.
From there, we had a police escort through the city of Ottawa to the train station, where the train waited for us and held 2 full cars open to accommodate our ride to Montreal.
Ben Mulroney was on the train filming E Talk. After he kicked us out of our seats, we found his make up bag in his old seat and held it hostage until he came over and took a picture with the group. You can’t make these stories up.
We arrived in Montreal to a very welcoming crowd of media and a parade the following day equal to a Stanley Cup Winning Parade. 150,000 people lined the streets that day to celebrate the Olympic and Paralympic games.
It’s amazing to think that 2 months after the end of the Olympic Games, and 1 month after the Paralympic Games, on the other side of our huge country, there were 150,000 people who were still willing to come out to the streets and show their support for the athletes.
The experience since the Games has been, and continues to be, once in a lifetime.
Looking ahead, I took my first training ride with my team mate Morgan Perrin yesterday. The road to the 2011 World Championships in Sestriere, Italy, and the 2014 Paralympic Winter Games in Sochi, Russia has begun.
It’s all over.
Well my countdown has officially ended. The 2010 Olympic and Paralympic Winter Games are all over and what an experience it was, not only for me, but for everyone in Canada.
My Paralympic experience was an emotional roller coaster. It had incredible highs and lows. There was some uncooperative weather over the 10 days of the Paralympics, which caused delays and eventually a complete reversal of the schedule. For me that meant slalom went from being my last event, with time to work out the butterflies, to first.
I was really excited about slalom in the Paralympics. I finished the overall World Cup season in 7th in the discipline and had been skiing it very well in training right up the day of the event. My warm up went very well and I was calm and knew what I needed to do. Unfortunately that’s where it ended. I skied very poorly in the first run. The course was set quite round up top, and the snow conditions were very poor considering the rain overnight and the warm temperatures over the course of the games, and quite frankly I didn’t adjust well to any of the variables. I got caught up in two sections on the course, one going into the top flats, and again near the finish. I crossed the line in 17th and was devastated.
I don’t know how to put into words how I felt at that point. You could see it. My family and coaches could see it in me, crushed is really the only word that comes close. Nonetheless, I put it all on the line second run, and to add insult to injury I crashed.
I had so many high hopes for slalom, I knew that to have an outside shot at the podium everything had to go right; unfortunately everything went wrong.
Thankfully I had 2 days to recover from slalom, and had downhill to follow. I was really down all that night and the next day, but after many words of encouragement from family, friends, team mates and staff I got things back together and was feeling a lot better by downhill day.
I skied a strong race during the downhill. I made one small error, a slight misjudgment on the speed I was carrying into a section and my timing to start a turn was off, but I rode it out very well and finished in 11th - my best downhill finish in a year and a performance that I was happy with.
The rest of the week on the hill continued to be a roller coaster. Nothing sums that up more than the last day of racing. I felt good going into the Super Combined. I had skied solidly in Super-G the day before and was looking forward to redeeming myself in the second run of slalom. That particular day they decided to reverse the start order, sending the men first, because snow conditions were very hard early in the morning. Again, I crashed, and again, I was crushed. I just didn’t know what to say or do. I went down to my room, got changed, and made my way back to the start to see the second run.
Right after the final racer of the Paralympics had finished, I had a moment that symbolizes how much emotion truly goes into a Games. My coach Brianne skied down to the finish and I saw her for the first time since crashing in her section of the course earlier that day. There was nothing she could do or say, so she just gave me the biggest hug she possibly could. We held on for a long time, and right when we let go, we turned around to watch my team mate and long time friend, Lauren win her 5th gold medal in as many events. We could not have sung Oh Canada any louder than we did that day. Those few minutes are the best snapshot I can give you of the incredible highs and lows that take place over the 2 week span we had in Whistler.
Off the hill the experience of the games could not have been more extraordinary. When I decided after Torino that I needed to move to Whistler, away from my family and friends, to be in the best possible position to prepare for 2010, I did it for the sole reason of skiing, because that is what I wanted to do.
Never did I imagine the effect that that decision would have on not only me, but many people along the way.
I have received hundreds of emails and letters from friends, family, school kids, presidents of companies, and complete strangers saying how much they enjoyed watching me, how much they have cherished following my story and how proud they are just to watch. It profoundly affected people, and I was just doing what I loved to do.
Sure the athletes village was cool and getting free EVERYTHING for 10 days was an amazing perk. My team stayed outside the village and had a private chef (who was incredibly talented) and we were closer than we have ever been as a team. We had first class treatment all the way and there were hundreds of Blue Jacket volunteers who were willing to go that extra mile because we were Team Canada. All of these were amazing experiences and I cannot thank everyone enough.
But the biggest effect that I noticed was on my friends and family. It brought them closer together. My mom was on the verge of tears for a month, my father could not have been more proud, and my brothers had the time of their lives thanks to an amazing program put on by Petro Canada to put 2 family members up in a 5 star hotel for free for the games.
I had nearly 100 friends come up to watch the first weekend of racing. They sat in the grandstands for 5 hours on Saturday, and never saw a thing, except a whole lot of fog. Then they changed the schedule around so that they were not going to be able to watch anything on Sunday either, and the only comments I got from anyone was how amazing it was to be there and how proud they were of me.
When I moved to Whistler, I was willing to concede a few things in order to pursue my dream. I expected to come out of it with little to no money, probably even be in debt. I was willing to sacrifice my schooling and not graduate with my friends. I was willing to end up four years “behind” the world in terms of career and everything else that comes with life. What I gained out of that sacrifice, I will be repaying to the world for the rest of my life.
Thankfully I am not in debt; I met some amazing sponsors along the way, incredible people who offered whatever they could and asked nothing in return but to share my incredible experiences with them. I am privileged to have met all my sponsors and they will remain close to me for the rest of my life. I didn’t graduate with my friends, but the education I have received from skiing has exceeded anything I ever imagined. As for being “behind” in life, when I started this journey I conceded that I would be behind, but looking back on it I’m not sure what I thought I was going to be behind in. I have done nothing but gain from this amazing time. In fact if there is such a thing, I’m much further ahead in life than I would have ever been otherwise.
As I said the last two months has been an emotional roller coaster. Each and every day I remember something new that happened. It is going to take a lot more time to completely reflect on everything that happened and I will forever learn from this experience.
Thank you for following my story all this time. One big chapter is closing, but there are many more chapters to be written. Four years from now it might be written in Russian...