I’m at the top of Hughes, one of my favorite runs to race because it’s hard. Hard like tests that you didn’t study for or the asphalt when you fall off your bike. But I know it. Its at my home ski area, Winter Park. The other racers from Vail and Eldora and Loveland, they don’t know it. They don’t know its hard left turns or steep right ones, they don’t know the flats at the bottom where you have to skate to keep going fast. They will be surprised; I will not. I have the advantage.
My coach turns to me and whispers, “Be aggressive.” I nod. The girl racing in front of me, number 17, just finished. Now it’s my turn, and my stomach is full of butterflies. The wind howls in my ear and I can see the tiny spectators way way down at the bottom of the run. They look like ants. My friends are cheering for me, but they sound far away. Like the sound of a train off in the distance.
“Three......Two.....One,” the starter drones, “G-” I don’t let him finish. I just push myself forward with all my might and fly around the first right turn. The crowd roars in my ear, but I tune them out. The butterflies are gone. The wind cuts into my cheeks like knives but I’m having way too much fun to care. Left, right, left, right, left, right. The race is over way too soon.
When I get to the bottom the announcer says, “With a time of 51 seconds, that puts number 18, Alyssa Leifer, in unofficial first!” I’m in first! I’m in first!
My friend, Ella, rushes up to me, “You were great!” she squeals.
“Thanks!” I say, “I can’t believe I’m in first!”
“Well you went really really fast!” she cries. I beam.
When all the racers are finished we gather around the podium like puppies waiting for a treat. The announcer calls the first girl, not me. The announcer calls the second girl, still not me. The announcer calls the third place girl, still not me.
“ ...And in fourth place we have Alyssa Leifer with a time of 51 seconds!” the announcer says. I rush up to get my ribbon; at least I placed top five! I’ve got a big grin on my face. I stand on the ground next to third and pose for pictures, while the announcer calls the other six ribbon-placers. I smile to the click, click, click, of the cameras.
“Next time I’ll win, next time,” I think to myself.