Ski Racing


Kairine Brown, Writer


A snowy day. The snow playfully flows down from the cloudy sky. My skis hang lightly from my body over a height from the chair lift. Skiing down to the race blocks. My insides become twisted as my adrenaline rises. At the top of the hill, I’m 10 racers away. I shed my ski pants and jacket. 9 racers. I change into my skinny sharp race skis. 8 racers. My insides start to freeze. 7 racers. With only my thin, light race suit on, I am cold. 6 racers. I hop in the line of only 5 racers. My insides twist in turn outward and inward. 4 racers. I shiver up and down as the snow keeps falling. 3 racers. The racecourse looks tight and icy, as always. 2 racers. The plastic covering on my gloves to hit the poles look frost covered. 1 more racer. I scoot up to the race block and my insides feel like they would explode from adrenaline. The beep goes off and I push off as hard as I can. I shoot down the racecourse. The wind blows hard against my face. Halfway down. My poles hit the gates over and over again. I can see the bottom. My skies cling tightly together to become more arrow dynamic. I got into a racer’s tuck near the end. I hit the last few poles and push off the ground with my poles as hard as I possibly can. I tucked down as far as I can, getting as close to the ground as possible. I shot through the end. I skated through and hockey stopped. 15.43. 15.43. 15.43 seconds. 3rh place. Not too bad for a few years of ski racing.