On April 29th I had the great pleasure to participate in the Rose Rees Peace Awards as the keynote speaker. The Rose Rees Peace Award is given annually by the National Council of Jewish Women (NCJW) – Minneapolis Section to one senior from each participating high school, in the greater Minneapolis area, who has demonstrated an outstanding commitment to international understanding and world peace. This award was established in 1935 as a living memorial to Mrs. Rose Rees, who served as President of NCJW and was a founder and presiding officer of the World Affairs Council of Minneapolis. I had the privilege to speak to 20 of the most inspiring young people I have ever encountered. After I finished my message, each one of the recipients came to the podium and briefly explained what peace meant to them and what their plans were for the future. Every single student was astonishing and, I am certain, going to make this world a better place. To hear those kids speak was one of the most humbling and wonderful experiences of my life. It truly was an honor to be part of such an amazing program. Below is, more or less, the speech I gave to the students. I thought I would share it with all of you.

I hope that wherever you may be spring has sprung!

Warmly,

Kaylin

My speech:

Our world right now is undoubtedly in a state of turmoil. Many are worried about the future, economically, environmentally, socially, and rightfully so. We, speaking for the human race, need to tighten up our program, make some changes. It sometimes seems that the fate of our rain forests have taken a back seat to MTV and that the golden rule, treat others the way that you would like to be treated, is a thing of the past. You are probably thinking, “great- an uplifting speaker, maybe she can make a reference to the recession and kick us in the shins while she is at it.” That is not my intention. This is a message of hope. After reading about this award and some of its recipients it reminded me not to let my cynical side get the best of me. It reminded me that there are still so many that believe as I do- that we are not only responsible for the world we live in, but the way we leave it. there is much to be done, but looking out at all of you gives me such hope. And the wonderful thing about hope is it is extremely contagious. If this is a sample of the next generation then we have a bright future to look forward to; peace is possible.

I don’t feel like I am much different than you. Sure, I have a few more years experience under my belt, but, unfortunately, much that you don’t understand at 17 or 18 you have no better grasp of at 24. I speak to you as a contemporary, maybe even more appropriately, a kindred spirit. There is such diversity in this room: different interests, different strengths, but you all have something in common and that is why you are being honored today. You have set yourselves apart because you don’t consider peace a static, obsolete ideal; it is an everyday occurrence. All of us are unique and equipped with individual tools to better the world. Trying to measure your addition is completely arbitrary because a grand gesture in one’s eyes can be nothing of value to another. The complexities of this life create some of the greatest pleasures and greatest frustrations depending on the scenario. But, that my friends is another speech entirely.

I am a ski racer. I have been on the National Team for nine years. I compete at the World Cup level which consists of the best female racers on our planet. The life of a professional athlete as you can imagine tends to be a very self involved existence. Every day I get up and do what I need to do for me to succeed. How I need to train, what I need to eat, you get the idea. It was a constant struggle, especially in the beginning. I always was second guessing my ability to give back. Then, about six years ago, when I was about your age, I met a little girl in my hometown that recognized me. Before I go any further let me preface that the ski racing world is it’s own little microcosm; it is not very often that you come across someone outside the alpine community that is familiar with it. However, this little girl looked up at my with her shiny blue eyes in admiration. At that moment, it dawned on me that through my success in ski racing I had gained, an albeit small, influence over kids that looked up to me. It all began with that little girl murmuring, “Are you Kaylin richardson?” which first of all melted my heart and second of all exhibited that because of my small celebrity I could reach out to kids and affect them in a positive way. My main aim has become establishing young athlete’s self worth by reminding them it is the person they are and how they treat others that define them, not the amount of trophies or lack there of that they bring home. The power to bolster a child’s confidence is no small thing; it can have a ripple effect of good that is hard believe.

No one ever said that leading by example is easy, but with being a role model, it comes with the territory. To the contrary,I think, it can be pretty tough. People begin looking to you for answers and suddenly, there are expectations you, yourself, never set, and obligations you never signed up for. Time to rise to the occasion! Every one of you is familiar with this or you wouldn’t be here. I had the great honor of representing the United States of America in the 2006 Winter Olympic Games. I competed in the alpine combined event which consists of one run of DH an event that I have been clocked going 83 mph, and two runs of slalom- the event on the other side of the spectrum, less speed but more quickness. It was truly an amazing experience. Walking into the opening ceremonies can only be described as surreal. It had been a goal since I was young to compete in the games and I had a ball. I met as many people as I could and tried to take in everything. Of course, I was there to compete and I did with zest. I was not the fastest, but not the slowest either. Journalists from all over the world would be waiting outside the finish corral and I think that I confused them. After finishing a run I was jubilant and it dumbfounded the reporters. They would ask me, “You seem so happy, yet you are not in medal contention?” I would reply, “You are missing the point. This is the pinnacle of sport. Every person competing here has made personal sacrifices and has amazing stories- we should be celebrating that. I think it is too bad that especially in the US we get so caught up in the medal count. While you are all estimating who the winner you are missing the most vital part of all- the athlete’s spirit.” I was quoted in some newspapers and magazine around the country and although I did not come home after the games with something shiny around my neck, I did come home with a 17th place and the pride of being true to myself.

When I was preparing my remarks to give to such a remarkable group of individuals I figured, since it is The Rose Rees Peace Awards, I should know the exact definition of peace. With high hopes I found the dictionary and to my slight disappointment this is what I found: Peace: 1.freedom from disturbance; quiet and tranquility 2.freedom from or the cessation of war, violence, or social disorder. 3. freedom from dispute or dicension between individuals or groups. Hmm, now I don’t mean to be a nitpicker, but I have a real problem with that definition. Freedom is a noble ideal, but when I think of peace I instantly think of love. It is not possible to have one without the other, sort of like the chicken before the egg conundrum. What comes first love or peace? The answer is they are inextricably connected. If I personally were to define peace it would go something like this: Peace- the state at which love is paramount. in laymens terms- peace is when love is the main objective.

I have had the opportunity, through racing, to travel many places, meet and befriend many people. Skiing was my ticket to the Czech Republic, Argentina, Italy, New Zealand, Bulgaria, Chile, and Switzerland to name a few. The thing that continues to strike me time and time again on my travels is how alike we all are. Yes, our cultures differ, our local tastes and traditions differ, maybe even the way we display our emotions differ, but, under all the exterior, we laugh the same, we mourn the same, we hope the same, we fear the same, and most importantly we love the same. For many, many people that concept is hard to comprehend which saddens me. To be ignorant and insular are maybe the most powerful enemies of peace out there. On the other hand open- mindedness and patience are peace and love’s warriors.

Ski racing has become my vehicle to love others, to spread peace. My success has given me privileges that allow me to speak and be heard. I am a good ski racer and I may be remembered by a handful of people for that, but what I hope is that I influenced people in a positive way, ultimately, through love. Now, I know this sounds silly, but I want you to ask yourself, “What is my vehicle to love others?” What is that thing that you enjoy above all else, that you excel at? Maybe you are an amazing photographer and get to travel around the world taking snapshots that alert people to poverty. Maybe you have the skills to be a phenomenal businessman which makes you wealthy enough to finance a phenomenal charity. Maybe you are a natural nurturer and were just meant to make people feel welcomed and loved. It doesn’t matter what your personal strength is; it’s about finding a way to use it to give back. You have the potential to be great at it and contribute to peace through it.

I cannot convey to you all how vital this is. Every step in the process is equally important; no cause too small, no person too insignificant. Lastly, I am going to fill you in on a glorious secret. Those of you that already know what your vehicle is can back me up. Once you find that niche, that place in the world that you fit, doing what you were made to do, you will feel so wonderfully fulfilled- dare I say it- at peace. And what better way to spread peace than by starting in your own heart.

On April 29th I had the great pleasure to participate in the Rose Rees Peace Awards as the keynote speaker. The Rose Rees Peace Award is given annually by the National Council of Jewish Women (NCJW) – Minneapolis Section to one senior from each participating high school, in the greater Minneapolis area, who has demonstrated an outstanding commitment to international understanding and world peace. This award was established in 1935 as a living memorial to Mrs. Rose Rees, who served as President of NCJW and was a founder and presiding officer of the World Affairs Council of Minneapolis. I had the privilege to speak to 20 of the most inspiring young people I have ever encountered. After I finished my message, each one of the recipients came to the podium and briefly explained what peace meant to them and what their plans were for the future. Every single student was astonishing and, I am certain, going to make this world a better place. To hear those kids speak was one of the most humbling and wonderful experiences of my life. It truly was an honor to be part of such an amazing program. Below is, more or less, the speech I gave to the students. I thought I would share it with all of you.

I hope that wherever you may be spring has sprung!
Warmly,
Kaylin

My speech:

Our world right now is undoubtably in a state of turmoil. Many are worried about the future, economically, enviromentally, socially, and rightfully so. We, speaking for the human race, need to tighten up our program, make some changes. It sometimes seems that the fate of our rainforests have taken a back seat to MTV and that the golden rule, treat others the way that you would like to be treated, is a thing of the past. You are probably thinking, “great- an uplifting speaker, maybe she can make a reference to the recession and kick us in the shins while she is at it.” That is not my intention. This is a message of hope. After reading about this award and some of its recipients it reminded me not to let my cynical side get the best of me. It reminded me that there are still so many that believe as I do- that we are not only responsible for the world we live in, but the way we leave it. there is much to be done, but looking out at all of you gives me such hope. And the wonderful thing about hope is it is extremely contagious. If this is a sample of the next generation then we have a bright future to look forward to; peace is possible

I don’t feel like I am much different than you. Sure, I have a few more years experience under my belt, but, unfortunately, much that you don’t understand at 17 or 18 you have no better grasp of at 24. I speak to you as a contemporary, maybe even more appropriately, a kindred spirit. There is such diversity in this room: different interests, different strengths, but you all have something in common and that is why you are being honored today. You have set yourselves apart because you don’t consider peace a static, obsolete ideal; it is an everyday occurrence. All of us are unique and equipped with individual tools to better the world. Trying to measure your addition is completely arbitrary because a grand gesture in one’s eyes can be nothing of value to another. The complexities of this life create some of the greatest pleasures and greatest frustrations depending on the scenario. But, that my friends is another speech entirely.

I am a ski racer. I have been on the National Team for nine years. I compete at the World Cup level which consists of the best female racers on our planet. The life of a professional athlete as you can imagine tends to be a very self involved existence. Every day I get up and do what I need to do for me to succeed. How I need to train, what I need to eat, you get the idea. It was a constant struggle, especially in the beginning. I always was second guessing my ability to give back. Then, about six years ago, when I was about your age, I met a little girl in my hometown that recognized me. Before I go any further let me preface that the ski racing world is it’s own little microcosm; it is not very often that you come across someone outside the alpine community that is familiar with it. However, this little girl looked up at my with her shiny blue eyes in admiration. At that moment, it dawned on me that through my success in ski racing I had gained, an albeit small, influence over kids that looked up to me. It all began with that little girl murmuring, “Are you Kaylin richardson?” which first of all melted my heart and second of all exhibited that because of my small celebrity I could reach out to kids and affect them in a positive way.  My main aim has become establishing young athlete’s self worth by reminding them it is the person they are and how they treat others that define them, not the amount of trophies or lack there of that they bring home. The power to bolster a child’s confidence is no small thing; it can have a ripple effect of good that is hard believe.

No one ever said that leading by example is easy, but with being a role model, it comes with the territory. To the contrary,I think, it can be pretty tough. People begin looking to you for answers and suddenly, there are expectations you, yourself, never set, and obligations you never signed up for. Time to rise to the occasion! Every one of you is familiar with this or you wouldn’t be here. I had the great honor of representing the United States of America in the 2006 Winter Olympic Games. I competed in the alpine combined event which consists of one run of DH an event that I have been clocked going 83 mph, and two runs of slalom- the event on the other side of the spectrum, less speed but more quickness. It was truly an amazing exerience. Walking into the opening ceremonies can only be described as surreal. It had been a goal since I was young to compete in the games and I had a ball. I met as many people as I could and tried to take in everything. Of course, I was there to compete and I did with zest. I was not the fastest, but not the slowest either. Journalists from all over the world would be waiting outside the finish corral and I think that I confused them. After finishing a run I was jubilant and it dumbfounded the reporters. They would ask me, “You seem so happy, yet you are not in medal contention?” I would reply, “You are missing the point. This is the pinnacle of sport. Every person competing here has made personal sacrifices and has amazing stories- we should be celebrating that. I think it is too bad that especially in the US we get so caught up in the medal count. While you are all estimating who the winner you are missing the most vital part of all- the athlete’s spirit.” I was quoted in some newspapers and magazine around the country and although I did not come home after the games with something shiny around my neck, I did come home with a 17th place and the pride of being true to myself.

When I was preparing my remarks to give to such a remarkable group of individuals I figured, since it is The Rose Rees Peace Awards, I should know the exact definition of peace. With high hopes I found the dictionary and to my slight disappointment this is what I found: Peace: 1.freedom from disturbance; quiet and tranquility 2.freedom from or the cessation of war, violence, or social disorder. 3. freedom from dispute or dicension between individuals or groups. Hmm, now I don’t mean to be a nitpicker, but I have a real problem with that definition. Freedom is a noble ideal, but when I think of peace I instantly think of love.  It is not possible to have one without the other, sort of like the chicken before the egg conundrum. What comes first love or peace? The answer is they are inextricably connected. If I personally were to define peace it would go something like this: Peace- the state at which love is paramount. in laymens terms- peace is when love is the main objective.

I have had the opportunity, through racing, to travel many places, meet and befriend many people. Skiing was my ticket to the Czech Republic, Argentina, Italy, New Zealand, Bulgaria, Chile, and Switzerland to name a few. The thing that continues to strike me time and time again on my travels is how alike we all are. Yes, our cultures differ, our local tastes and traditions differ, maybe even the way we display our emotions differ, but, under all the exterior, we laugh the same, we mourn the same, we hope the same, we fear the same, and most importantly we love the same. For many, many people that concept is hard to comprehend which saddens me. To be ignorant and insular are maybe the most powerful enemies of peace out there. On the other hand open- mindedness and patience are peace and love’s warriors.

Ski racing has become my vehicle to love others, to spread peace. My success has given me privileges that allow me to speak and be heard. I am a good ski racer and I may be remembered by a handful of people for that, but what I hope is that I influenced people in a positive way, ultimately, through love. Now, I know this sounds silly, but I want you to ask yourself, “What is my vehicle to love others?” What is that thing that you enjoy above all else, that you excel at? Maybe you are an amazing photographer and get to travel around the world taking snapshots that alert people to poverty. Maybe you have the skills to be a phenomenal businessman which makes you wealthy enough to finance a phenomenal charity. Maybe you are a natural nurturer and were just meant to make people feel welcomed and loved. It doesn’t matter what your personal strength is; it’s about finding a way to use it to give back.  You have the potential to be great at it and contribute to peace through it.

I cannot convey to you all how vital this is. Every step in the process is equally important; no cause too small, no person too insignificant. Lastly, I am going to fill you in on a glorious secret.  Those of you that already know what your vehicle is can back me up. Once you find that niche, that place in the world that you fit, doing what you were made to do, you will feel so wonderfully fulfilled- dare I say it- at peace. And what better way to spread peace than by starting in your own heart.

To my delight, I have good news to divulge- I had a great National Championships! The weather did not cooperate; there were blizzards blowing, snowflakes accumulating, and volcano erupting, but I skied well despite Mother Nature’s assault on Alaska. After one day of DH training, two days of free skiing because racing was out of the question, and a failed attempt at SG due to fog, we finally squeezed in the National DH race. The conditions were not perfect, but our luck prevailed and the men and women finished their races in the nick of time; ash began to fall right as the last boys made their way down the track. Bad weather and all, it was still my lucky day- I won the DH, and I am thrilled. It was a flowing, mistake- free run, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t surprised when I came through the finish line and saw number one on the board. I ran fourth, so, I did not initially celebrate, but as racers came down and my time held, it sunk in that I just might get another national title. When it was certain that I had in fact won the adjective that came to mind was relief. I know that I am a good ski racer and that I have the ability to be one of the best, but after a rocky season it was such a fabulous confidence boost. Validation, I have come to find, is no small thing. What really stuck out about the run to me was how relaxed I was. I was still aggressive and pushed like crazy out the of the start gate, but, especially since the snow was soft, I focused on easy pressure and carrying speed all the way down the mountain. Obviously, it worked well for me. It was so awesome that Julia (Mancuso) and Lindsey (Vonn) came to the races. So many, including me, appreciated their attendance; they make it the real deal. After winning World Cup globes and Olympic gold medals, National Championships, I would guess, lose some of their allure. However, after fighting the flu, Jules managed wins in the GS and Combined and after a huge mistake in the DH Lindsey redeemed herself the next day by locking up the SL title.

Having successful races at Nationals is just the cherry on top of the most fun race of the year. Everyone you haven’t seen since November is there and the enthusiasm is so contagious that it is almost tangible. It is the only FIS race where Americans of all levels get to compete together. I love the cohesion of it all. That there is a World Cup winner in the same race as an Eastern Cup or MidAm winner is so gratifying to witness because it spans such a wider spectrum than most races. The ski racing community is not very large and great fun abounds when all the best racers in the country are rounded up for an end of the year culmination. I had the pleasure of catching up with dear, old friends and making hilarious new ones. It also was so great to have my parents there. They stayed with my Mother’s cousins that live in Anchorage so I had the good fortune of having quite a cheering section! Nationals is also a race where it is very easy to reflect on your career. I listened to some girls commenting on how the women of 1984 were the oldest on the start sheet. (Yes, I am an 84′ birth year.) It honestly seems like it was yesterday that I was 15 years old at my first Nationals and overheard the elite racers of that time lamenting about how young 84’s were! Everything is full circle which, as I age, I appreciate more and more. There is something comforting about realizing that you weren’t the first nor the last to have similar feelings. I am as astonished now, at 24, as I was at ten by how exhilarating skiing is, that has not changed, but, after experiencing so much and living so fully I am sometimes surprised by all that I have learned along the way.

Thank you so much for allowing me to share a little part of my life with you. The pleasure has been mine. I still have some more races this season, but I will be blogging less frequently. Take a look every so often, I plan on updating about once a month during the off season. As you all know though, snow flurries and ski season will be back here before we know it so savor the warmth and sun!

Lastly, if you find that our paths cross, please say hello. I enjoy meeting fellow ski enthusiasts and would love to meet you.

Until next time,

Kaylin

Experiencing the precipitation hybrid that you can only encounter in the East brought my teammates and I closer together during NorAm Finals . It is something like sleet or slush, although more reminiscent of freezing rain; I believe that it has yet to be defined. It is always met with heavy sighs and foiled plans, but provided ample bonding time with racers that I hadn’t seen all season. I feel it is my duty to enlighten all of you of a small sample of their fabulousness:

Top 12 Reasons that the U.S. Ski Team has the Awesomest Athletes in the World

12. Sterling Grant’s flair for fashion. It is constant amusement to see what new concoction of denim, sequins, or leather she unveils each night come dinnertime.

11. Megan McJames’ love for candy. She always has a nice little stash of sweets, something that does not go unnoticed or unappreciated while on tour.

10. Nolan Kasper’s audacity. Bold on the slopes and off; you are equally likely to see him throw himself down a tight slalom course or sit down at a table full of World Cup female racers none of which he has met before.

9. Hailey Duke’s production expertise. She makes fantastic movies and if it weren’t for copyright and trademarking laws, I truly believe her films would be cult favorites.

8. Dane Spencer’s left handed bowling prowess. He gets the curve going and an inevitable strike follows.

7. Jimmy Cochran’s uncanny knack of making a simple conversation into an intellectual dispute, eventually convincing you of his point.

6. Laurenne Ross’ musical mastery. Little known in the ski racing community, Laurenne is our resident musician. She plays the violin effortlessly, and sings beautifully. Many a night this season, I fell asleep to the sweet and melancholy notes of Laurenne’s strings.

5. Sarah Schleper de Gaxiola’s remarkable ability to be an amazing mother, fierce competitor, caring teammate, and complete nut all at once.

4. Michael Ankeny’s peanut butter jelly dance. Watching his slalom skiing secured my respect, but viewing his dance moves is what instantly made me a fan.

3. Julia Ford’s forgetful good- naturedness. She may be the first person to misplace the liners for her boots, but she is also the first person to share her lunch and offer a smile.

2. Keely Kelleher’s infectious laugh and irrepressible attitude. When her successful career in ski racing is over, she could have a lucrative future in motivational speaking if she so desires.

1. Lindsey Vonn’s domination. Predictable, I know, but her performance this season is undeniably awesome. I figure she deserves the top spot.

Up top are some examples of awesomeness. From left- Megan McJames, Hailey Duke, Sterling Grant, Keely Kelleher, Sarah Schleper de Gaxiola, and me

Life at the Olympic Training Center in Lake Placid is good. The weather at the Olympic Training Center in Lake Placid is not good. The majority of the US ski team is waiting here to compete Thursday- Sunday in the North American Cup Finals. I have been here since Saturday and the weather has been uncooperative. In three days of attempted training, I have gotten one and a half runs of slalom. My second go at the course was cut short when I hooked my tip on a gate resulting in a clumsy belly flop down the slope. I am very fond of the East coast for many reasons, but it’s spring weather is not one of them. Rain, snow, sleet, ice, wind, and sun can all be present in the course of one day, sometimes even one afternoon! Under circumstances such as these, one must remain patient and, in our cases, creative. I am disappointed that I have not gotten more training the last few days, because I sorely could use the extra practice, but everyone is in the same boat and keeping the morale up is paramount. Most of us have caught up on lots of reading and emailing. There have been some heated games of volleyball and ping pong. Team movie nights have been a big hit. The 1000 piece puzzle in the common room is slowly materializing. And if all else fails the cafeteria is open 24 hours a day. Having ice cream available at all times has eased my irritation, if not my waistband.

Tomorrow is the first race of four. I looked at the forecast and, although not perfect, the next few days bode far better than the last few. No matter the conditions, it will be a battle. I am steeling myself for the bumpiness of a wild ride regardless of the discipline. SG, GS, and SL will be equally challenging in the adverse elements for different reasons. When there are races like this you will hear people complaining or even whining, but the truth is- this is how it’s going to be for everyone and you have to make the most of it. The racers that rise above the negativity and focus on what is under their control will reap the benefits of a solid performance. The simple act of consciously adjusting your attitude can make a huge difference. Adapting to the situation instead of fighting it will help you succeed. This is no easy feat, but the more you work at it, the more natural it will become.

Spring racing can be unpredictable, the key is to be flexible. Now all I have to do is take my own advice!

Good luck and have fun!

Kaylin

The last six days made up one of the best and worst race weekends of my lengthy career. Bulgaria is about as far removed from Central/ Western Europe I have ever traveled for a World Cup race. I did not know what to expect when I boarded the plane to Sofia with the rest of the World Cup field. Trudging off the plane, ski boots in hand, at once I felt welcomed. Being from the United States, where coercing a ski area to hold a race can be a mighty task, it was delightful to be in a country that was truly excited to have us. After three hours, the five bus caravan arrived at our destination, the resort town of Bansko. Hotel Strazhite, in it’s entirety, was devoted to housing and running the white circus that is World Cup racing. It is a rare occurrence to have all the nation’s teams staying under one roof. I love my teammates dearly, but having a little diversity is wonderful. Like they say, variety is the spice of life. I am a huge believer in the cross- pollination of culture. It helps me grow as an individual, and it provides fantastic entertainment. In the course of one dinner I had the opportunity to partake in the following: teasing Nike for the comical undulating cadence of her language, sounding much like the Swedish chef of Muppet fame; attempting to roll my r’s like an authentic Italian while my teacher Nicola coached my trilling; laughing with Hanna, Alessandro, and Verena when I, inevitably, botched the beautiful pronunciation of their mother tongue; getting swept up in Chemmy’s enthusiasm for a bowling tournament in our own hotel. And that is just a small sampling of the amusing exchanges that take place at meal times.

The race course was another story entirely. The mountains in Bulgaria are unlike what I imagined; I was thinking quaint, rolling peaks. I was completely mistaken. The Pirin Range is staggeringly majestic and provides a very fitting venue for a World Cup Downhill. Our course was plenty difficult to challenge the women elite of ski racing. What upped the ante was the course set (extremely turny), and the snow conditions (intensely bumpy). You literally had to psych yourself up before pushing out of the start because it took some serious chutzpah to throw it down that mountain. Without a doubt, it was the most arduous ski race of my life. My skiing every single day was slow and ugly at best, but, I can say, with a little dignity, that my skiing improved over the course of five days, if not my times. It was a tough weekend on my self-esteem, but, after being put to the test, I emerged unscathed. My ski racing scale of difficulty has honestly been adjusted; what was hard before will now seem a bit easier. And that is, albeit rather small, a triumph.

After the SG on Sunday, I was back on the bus to Sofia. I thoroughly enjoy long rides through countryside I am unaccustomed to. It gives me time to have a nice, long, continuous think. I can zone out to my music while watching the scenery pass by or I can meditate on any subject I choose. This particular bus ride had me marveling at how enchanted I was by Bulgaria. I was taken by her epic panoramas and the incredible warmth of her people. You couldn’t round a corner without sharing a smile or coming across someone that wants to practice their English. Of course the peddlers want buyers and the restaurants want diners, but I never felt pushed, only encouraged. If you ever find yourself in Bansko, Bulgaria you must stop by BAYTI Home Decorations, and ask for the owner, Emil. He is the charming owner of this lovely shop that sits 200 ft. from the gondola. Whether you decide to purchase a trinket or not, he will gladly point you in the direction of a delicious meal. I also thought of my new friend Maria and the fascinating story that led her to Greece for three years and back again. I instantly understood when she explained her desire to visit New York City to see her brother that now lives there. Our lives are so different, but I easily empathized; when I am on the road I, too, miss my brothers.

As the plane took off, hauling us all back to Munich, I felt so unexpectedly fortunate to have experienced a small piece of beautiful Bulgaria.

For now,

Kaylin

BBQ Bulgaria Style (and, no, I have no idea what kind of animal that once was to my left…)

Whatever the gains, whatever the loss, they are yours.

-Five Wounds, Nez Perce

I didn’t know how to articulate what I have been feeling the last week, but then Keely Kelleher, my crazy friend, read me that quote and, for some reason, it resonated within me. In Tarvisio I scored my first World Cup points of the season. My DH portion of the Super Combined was somewhat disappointing; I missed the flip by two tenths of a second. So, instead of running first in the slalom, I ran 32nd. I had nothing to lose in the slalom; I went for it. Not the best slalom of my career, but, I like to think, a valiant effort. I ended the day 28th overall. 3 WC points. I will be honest, I was not thrilled with the result. While I was pouting in the finish, Keely came up to me and reminded me that it was my best race this year. Her words roused me out of my funk. She was absolutely right. Although I haven’t been performing to my potential, I need to appreciate the little steps forward. Like the quote above claims- my life, my story, my path are all mine. My experiences are my own and that, although simple, is something to celebrate.

I also had the pleasure of delighting in someone else’s gains this week. Lindsey Vonn, my esteemed teammate, is indubitably the best female skier the United States has ever produced. This weekend marked Lindsey’s 19th World Cup win, surpassing Tamara McKinney’s former record by one. She really is what a champion should be on all counts. What is especially entertaining for me is that I have known her since we were both little girls ski racing in MN. She and I were on different teams and didn’t become good friends until later, but I have had the privilege of watching her move from dominating the J5 circuit in the Rocky/Central Division to her ascendancy over the most elite racers in the world. One of my best moments this winter was not in the finish corral of a competition, but back at the hotel after the day’s trials. It was the Super Combined day in Zauchenseea a few weeks ago. If you read my blogs weekly, you are aware that I went out in the slalom portion after an error- ridden run in the DH. Lindsey had a better day to say the least; third after the DH segment, she ended up winning after a superb slalom run. I watched her slalom run from the start, while waiting for my own chance in the course. When I heard over the loud speaker that she had won, I was so excited for her. I yelled and clapped like a goofball. Unbeknownst to me, a camera was on my face when she won, and apparently I was on the the huge screen at the bottom and on TV. (Yes, my little bit of fame was because of my excellent cheering ability, a congenital gift that I inherited from my dear mother.) After the race, I was slightly down because of my shortcomings. As I was walking to my room in the hotel I stopped to congratulate Lindsey because I hadn’t yet had the opportunity. She mentioned that I was on the big screen at the bottom when she came through the finish. We laughed at my antics and then she thanked me for being so visibly happy for her. She told me, “It meant a lot.” What she didn’t realize at the time was how much her gratitude meant to me. As much as I love skiing, I want my legacy to be more about openness and compassion than fast racing exclusively. She reminded me of that, instantly lifting my spirits. I think of that conversation frequently, and, as corny as it sounds, I will always remember it fondly.

Our individual gains and losses are our own, but they are always overlapping with others’ trajectory. When our lives do coincide, we share in the adventure that is life: cultivating relationships and experiencing new things. That, I believe, is the beautiful chaos of life.

Have a fabulous week,

Kaylin

Luck is a state of mind. When you meet a person that claims to be lucky, I will bet you anything, it has less to do with their location in the universe, than their overall outlook. I am a person that’s life revolves around a sport and many people will attribute success, in many cases, to luck. I beg to differ. There are always exceptions to the rule, but I am a believer in the expression, “You make your own luck.” Then again, I have had many friends that work incredibly hard, yet, are plagued by unfortunate circumstances. I guess it depends on what you consider good luck. Some might say that the gods smile on those with good luck and the rest of us are left to are own devices. Whatever your ideology, I don’t think that this world plays favorites, no matter evidence to the contrary. I believe that there are things outside our realm of control which have nothing to do with what people conventionally identify as luck. My notion is that luck is something intangible that we do have some power over. “Lucky people” are the ones that see opportunity everywhere.

There are a few sayings that I have been stumbling across frequently that, in the past, I have just disregarded. “Look on the bright side,” for instance. When it comes to looking on the bright side, my glass of sunshine is abundantly half full. To live the life of the lucky, one of the first steps is being thankful for what you already have. There are not many success stories of people that felt overly entitled or unduly greedy. They may assume great wealth, but, not as a result, great happiness. The phrase “when one door closes another door opens,” must have first been uttered by someone incredibly optimistic. Whoever subscribes to this motto has the remarkable capacity to look at the positive options when something undermining happens. Think of how valuable that is- to derive strength from a, potentially, negative event. It is huge! Lastly, “take one step back to take two steps forward,” is key to being a lucky person. All it means is that setbacks are inevitable and necessary to learn how to move forward. Every misfortune becomes a catapult hurtling you onward and upward because you understand that even the mistakes are crucial steps toward your goals and aspirations.

I am not, by any figment of my imagination, saying that creating your own luck is easy, but, I believe, like any habit, the more you practice the better you become. And, just to throw one more sage bit of advice your way, “practice makes perfect.”

Have a phenomenal week mapping your own destiny.

Scheduling a series of speed races, despite the level or location, has the uncanny ability to generate snow storms. Like Cortina and Zauchensee before it, the speed races in Mammoth Mountain, CA were plagued by blizzards. Of course, for a month before the competition it was bluebird skies and precipitation free, but as soon as the motley crew of Canadian and American elite trudged onto the scene flurries began to fly. The conditions were more favorable for powder skiing than racing. Long story short, the weather did not cooperate. Out of five scheduled races, we got in one. Not an outstanding ratio. I hadn’t been to a NorAm in a while, so, because of the scant racing opportunities, I had ample time to bond with some of my younger teammates. It was refreshing to be around a new group that is so dynamic and excited about skiing. I may have been the grandma of the troop, but my maturity level is that of a 14 year old, so, it worked out. They were very tolerant of my silliness and graciously received me with open arms. The World Cup circuit is where I want to be; however, being at the NorAms was a nice departure from the intensity. The athletes are just as focused at a NorAm. The stakes run high just like in a World Cup, but the environment is different. It is a younger crowd of people, and, although I was a participant in the races, I also was an observer. I was not far enough removed to feel out of place; I felt right at home, but having done this crazy dance longer than most of the racers there, I had a different perspective. It reminded me of when I was on the NorAm circuit full time, still so unsure of myself competitively. I still have heaps to work on mentally, but I have come a long way since then. It was enlightening to watch and discern the different steps girls were on in their development. There was a broad spectrum, from girls racing their first year FIS to 24 year old veterans still pursuing their dreams. As far as I was concerned, my prerogative was to build them up and cheer them on. It was a privilege to translate some of my experience into encouragement and advice for them.

I also was reunited with some old coaches that have watched me evolve over the years. The most ironic part of it all is that I still am, more or less, trying to right the same weaknesses, and I still fret about basically the same things that I did years ago on the Development Team. Like I said before, I have come a long way, but it is a constant work in progress. The key to that battle is admitting there is work to be done and to be willing to actually put the time in to improve. I had a wonderful conversation with an old coach and friend. When I mentioned that I have been struggling with self- doubt he reminded me that I can’t be afraid of failure. That is true not only in ski racing but anything in life worth doing. I needed that shot of insight. To excel at anything you can’t focus on the what-ifs; you have to go for it 100%. When you let go of the apprehension towards failure it is a freeing sensation.

One of my all- time favorite movies is “Little Miss Sunshine.” If you have not had the viewing pleasure, I highly recommend it. It is the circuitous story of a lovably dysfunctional family that takes a road trip to the Little Miss Sunshine Pageant so that the youngest of the Hoover clan, Olive, can compete. My favorite scene occurs when Olive is about to go to bed the night before the pageant. As her Grandpa is tucking her in she admits she is scared about the next day’s competition. She says, “I don’t want to be a loser.” One of the most poignant exchanges in the entire film follows as her grandpa replies, “Whoa, Whoa, back up a minute. You know what a loser is? A real loser is somebody that’s so afraid of not winning that they don’t even try. Now, you’re trying, right?” Olive nods her head yes. And then her Grandpa confirms it, “Well then, you’re not a loser. We’re gonna have fun tomorrow, right?….”

Get in the proverbial game! You may fail, but you will NEVER be a loser.

Have a great week!

-Kaylin

PS- if you want to see a great example of two athletes that put it out there and had amazing success, check out Lindsey Vonn’s and Stacey Cook’s World Championship Downhill runs right here on this website. They finished first and ninth respectively.

I am currently sitting in seat 22B on Delta flight 131 to Atlanta. I wish that I were on my way to Val d’Isere, France for World Championships, but I did not qualify. The last three weeks were the final push to make it, and, not for lack of trying, it never came together. I was aware after Cortina that I hadn’t been named to the World Champs team. I went into Garmisch wanting to show everyone, including myself, that I have what it takes to be among those athletes. In the slalom I started 60th and, with nothing to loose, just went for it on the technical course. I finished around 40 after some bobbles but was satisfied with my skiing. In the SG, I had the same attitude and plan, and, regrettably, experienced the same outcome; I was pleased with sections of my run, but there were mistakes. Needless to say, I was a bit deflated. However, family, friends, and fans reading this, I want to remind you that I am having a ball. I am not having the decorated season for which I’d hoped, but with age comes clarity and, after doing this for almost a decade, I have gotten better and better at enjoying the ride— road blocks, bumps, flat tires and all.

After the race, there was some extra time before I needed to get to the hotel by the Munich Airport. A dear friend was visiting and we decided that, instead of just driving the short way to the “flughafen,” we would do some sightseeing. It sounds incredibly macabre, but I have always had a desire to see the Dachau Concentration Camp. It is not a fun tourist attraction; it is a somber, historical reminder of the evil which human beings are capable. As soon as you enter, there is an oppressive silence that enfolds you. The atrocity that was committed on that ground almost suffocates you when you begin to register the horror. We first walked to the crematorium. As I strolled between the disrobing rooms into the gas chamber, disguised as showers, I became overwhelmed; thousands of innocents had lost their lives within those walls. We continued onto the other side of camp via the Lagerstrasse, the main camp road. What struck me most were the mature poplars that lined the path. The Dachau museum exhibit had pictures, circa 1940, taken during the height of Hitler’s occupation. In many of those photos those exact same trees were present as mere saplings. It dawned on me that these trees would soon be the only living thing to have survived Dachau. I wondered about all they would share could they speak. Those trees witnessed some of humankind’s most horrible acts of atrocity. However, those trees also observed the outcome of nations coming together to put an end to such inhumanity and liberate the persecuted. Even today, they continue to see people of all motherlands come pay respect to the dead and learn about the malevolence so that it will never happen again. If those trees could talk I dream they would speak of the future with hope after watching our development from such a dark time forward. As the sun set on Dachau and the gates closed behind us, I couldn’t help but think about how telling it would be to have a conversation with one of those poplars.

After a solemn visit to Dachau, I made the executive decision that for the evening activity a little frivolity was due. We managed to jumble our way through Munich to the old town center, Marienplatz. From there we wandered taking in the gigantic facade of the Rathaus and the medieval architecture of Frauenkirche. Finally, our need for a good German meal of sauerkraut and sausage became too great, and we retired to the famous Hofbrauhaus for adendessen or, in English, dinner. Once in the celebrated house of imbibing, we partook in some hearty wurstel noshing and pretzel nibbling. Laughs were had and memories made.

Two very different exploits in the course of one afternoon, but both of worth. Life is such an adventure; one of my many mottos is “experience everything.” Life is too short not to.