Jit's Journal: "I was breaking through, and I knew it"

As I stepped off the plane on the 31st of December in Boston, after a short break at home, I realized I would be counting down the new year driving in a car on my way to Sunday River, Maine. Not really the most exciting experience, but hey, that’s the life of a ski racer looking to make it.
    As we drove into the night to reach our destination, rain continued to pound our windshield into submission. Only on the East Coast can it be less than 32 degrees and still raining. I thought to myself, “If this is how the trip is going to start, I don’t even want to know how it is going to end.”

AS I STEPPED OFF THE PLANE on the 31st of December in Boston, after a short break at home, I realized I would be counting down the new year driving in a car on my way to Sunday River, Maine. Not really the most exciting experience, but hey, that’s the life of a ski racer looking to make it.
    As we drove into the night to reach our destination, rain continued to pound our windshield into submission. Only on the East Coast can it be less than 32 degrees and still raining. I thought to myself, “If this is how the trip is going to start, I don’t even want to know how it is going to end.”
    The Sunday River NorAms were a crucial stepping stone for me. After taking a shellacking in Europe during December, my confidence was slightly battered. I had raced very well in some tough races across the pond and had nothing tangible to show for it. I was still struggling to put two equally fast runs down the hill for a “complete race,” and after the first GS race of the NorAms at Sunday River, I ended up second only after coming back on the second run from a large deficit. Either I would be fast on the first run and blow up on the second, or I would be sluggish on the first and extremely fast on the second. This was now becoming a serious problem for me and had to be addressed like a CEO analyzes what is hindering his company from performing well.
    I had rediscovered how I needed to mentally approach ski racing in December during the first NorAms with the “WTF factor,” so I knew that it wasn’t a mental issue that was setting me back. Was it a physical issue? I had a frank discussion with one of my coaches after the first GS race about what it was that was causing me to continue racing races the way I was. “What are you doing different on your second runs than your first that make you fast?” the coach said.
    I had to think about it. I said, “Mentally and technically. I am the same on both runs, but on video my first runs I look like I am going for a Sunday cruise and on the second I look like I am out for blood.”
    “OK, so you have more intensity on your second runs than your first, why do you think that is?” he said. “I guess physically I am more awake,” I replied. “Exactly. Now how can you achieve this kind of physical response for both runs, because then and only then can you have a ‘complete’ race.”
    And with that my prerace routine was born.
    After coming in second on the first day, I was ready to implement my new routine into my life to see if it would help me achieve a victory. I started by waking up 45 minutes early and getting on the spin bike. I followed that with active stretching. During this time I also drank a liter of water to rehydrate myself after a night’s rest. I found myself more awake than I usually was before a race, and by the time the first run had started, I felt like I usually did on second runs. In fact, I had so much intensity that I nearly exploded three times out of the course by the 10th gate. Either way, I had found what it takes to get myself physically ready to perform at my best. The circle was finally becoming complete.
    With the first run out of the way, I approached the second run knowing that everything was going to be OK. The second run is my strong point. While most people are worried about the result they could get, or the desire to just ski well enough to hold onto their lead, I am a big fan of throwing caution to the wind. It has been a long road refining this mental state that I get myself into, but it feels more natural every time, almost like I’m on autopilot.
    I ended up winning the run — and the race — by a second. Problem solved! I now had something tangible for my hard work, and my confidence and momentum were building. During the GS races, I was second and first, but in all honesty, I was unsure that those successes would carry over to the slaloms in the following two days.
    Again, I applied my new routine to my race day for the first slalom. Since November, I hadn’t trained a single day of slalom because I had no time after my preseason leg injury. I had simply shown up and raced, and so far things had faired well, but I still had nothing to show for it. “Here goes nothing,” I thought. I went as hard as I could, and to my surprise I was skiing like I had been training for months. I laid everything on the line on both runs. At times I was reacting so fast that things seemed blurred and unrealistic, like they weren’t really happening. Success again! I won by 1.6 seconds overall.
    I was breaking through, and I knew it.
    The final slalom day of the four day NorAm series saw me as fired up as ever. I felt even better than the first day of slalom. I put everything I had into every turn until I crashed out. I stood up and brushed off the snow from my face and smiled. I was happy because that was some of the best slalom I have ever skied — even if it saw me crashing. I was taking my skiing to another level and I was happy that I could both recognize it and feel comfortable with it.

Across the pond again
    When I left Sunday River, I had a lot of momentum. I had taken care of a lot of problems that had been weighing me down until that point, and now I felt like I was free again. It was time to hop on a flight to Europe and get to work. As I stepped back on the plane to take me back across the pond, I realized I wouldn’t see U.S. soil for another three months and I wondered where I will have been and what will I have been through by the time I returned home. I was excited, until I got off the plane and saw the weather.
    It is rainy and foggy here in Austria. I pretty much got off the plane and raced a day later in a super G at Radstadt. It was my first speed race in more than a year and a half and the weather must have known that. It was raining all through the valley and it felt like we had never left the East Coast of the United States. I skied like the rusty speed skier I was, and marked the day as one to forget.
    By the second day of the races, I felt ready to go, but the rain had melted away so much snow that in some spots there was probably an inch of snow. You could smell the cow pastures as you skied down the hill it was so bad. Some of the gates were set around the grass areas and it was foggy and misting. Somehow I felt like I was at a doomed spring series race. After standing at the start for a couple hours, the powers that be canceled the race and we headed back to the hotel to for some time off.
    I set my sights on some Europa Cup slaloms in Donnersbac, Austria, hoping to continue that positive push from the Sunday River NorAms.

— Jit