A Day of Ski Racing

December 2, 2008
By Gabe Jacobs, Ashland, WI

I walk into the warm, oak wooden chalet, holding my gigantic red boot bag that also holds my gloves and my shiny black helmet. I go find the nearest seat, still tired from waking up to a cold and dry morning. When I go to take a seat, relief fills me up, and puts me into a tunnel vision of ski racing. I immediately go through my boot bag and grab my iPod, trying to get my jam on with the Red Hot Chili Peppers, and start getting into action. The beat of their rocked out music gets me pumped up, and I start tapping one foot on the floor, as I’m putting my white and red ski boot on the other foot. As I snap down the red metallic buckles on my boots, I start thinking about what I can do to find the fastest path, the best time, and a victory to the day’s intense race. Getting up from my warm seat, I feel a little bit on the heavy side, having a little bit of weight pinned down on my feet.
I walk out the door, and immediately flip down my neon-colored goggles. I feel like I am in a totally different world, because the lens on my goggles makes the snow look like a tinted blue, like a world full of cool ice. I walk over to the ski rack and grab my Atomic skis, and my red Swix poles. I put my plastic toe into the binding, and kick down my heel hard. Left, and right, I’m all buckled up. I glide over to the chairlift, trying not to hit any little ankle biters that get in my way. I move up about five feet, and wait for the chairlift to hit me in the back of the butt. Once hit, I sit down, and let the chairlift float me up to the top of the hill.
I get off the frozen seat, and ski over to the intimidating course. Getting to my spot in the long line, I take off my red jacket, and my black race pants, and only keep on my black spandex racing suit. In the frigid cold, I wait till the gate judge calls me up to the start. Two minutes later, they call, “Gabriel Jacobs.”
Nervous and scared, I glide over to the starting gate. Once in the start, my mind becomes totally dedicated to the wavy, run down course. The electronic beeper beeps a “three, two, one, go!”
I immediately push off with all the leg and arm strength that my small, skinny body has. Flying out of the gate, I skate as fast as I possibly can to the first red gate. I carve left and right down the rigid hill, trying to focus on each small move I make. I make it through the last blue gate, and glide, head down, to the padded finish. Once through the finish line, I come through with a quick halt, and listen to my time on the raspy intercom. I fill up with joy as I compare my times to other racers.
Another great day of racng. Time to head to the bubbling hot tub, and thaw out my frozen feet for another day of ski racing.

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