If you've read my article talking about how I grew up, and how I've come to love skiing... You probably noted that I talked a little bit about Ski Racing. And you probably know that I ski park.
If you haven't read that Article, that's fine you can read this and likely find equal enjoyment.
Now, whether you're a "good" skier or a "bad" skier, there is something both readers should be able to take away from this. Skiing is a passion, no matter how far into you are, I'm sure you loved it when you first started moving. It's a weird, uncomfortable feeling. You're a little uneasy in your feet and knees. It's like taking the first 10 steps inside a building you're about to do a Job interview in. To say the least, it's an oddly familiar exhilarating, and yet, so foreign feeling.
I don't remember that feeling. Many of us who live the life-path of Ski Bums/adrenaline junkies and extreme sport fanatics alike, all started at an age we sometimes don't even remember. In fact, some of my most crisp and vivid memories are of Ski racing when I was 8/9 years old.
The photo attached with this Article is a picture of me in highschool. You'll notice some things that don't belong. My clunky freestyle boots made by Lange, my shockingly bright pink goggles... What you don't see all too clearly here, is how happy I am. This was almost another life to me.
A dear friend of mine passed away the next year, who I skied with on this team. The sport I knew and loved so much, had torn a very close and special friend from my life.
This is the battle we all fight, with anything we do. Even driving a car can become traumatic after having a friend die in a car accident... We know these things to us, is actual reality. But for one to shy in the face of a thrill, one is simply to not live at all. What would life be if you never made your heart beat faster? Or your breath become deeper? Have you ever been entirely entranced by the thing you are doing? (Other than Looking at your fucking phone or Television?)
I've read books that made my heart beat faster.
I guess in the end, all I'm saying is, Jerry, get out there and send it buddy. Bring Joey with you too. I don't care if you're in the park hitting the sides of rails. You're out there, inspired by something you saw, and instead of sitting on your ass at home, you brought some friends!
People like this make my world spin. I'm serious. I love every single weekend warrior or midweek passholder who just never learned anything more, but still have passion. Or maybe they are just learning now! I met a 46 year old dad who went skiing for the first time since he was 15 years old... He literally could have been a long lost legend from the History Books of Skiing...
So I guess that's really it, don't hate on a racer, because they might actually ski park too, and don't make fun of the dude showing up in Jeans slinging a pair of rear entry and Olin 215s over his shoulder.
Let the Jerry send.