Incredible and Inspiring

I've been enjoying watching the Pyeongchang Olympics. It's been such a treat.
Ever since "my" Olympics, in Sarajevo, I've been closely following the Winter Olympics events.
And inevitably each Olympics had stories that have become part of history.

Pyeongchang Olympics hasn't been different - there have been already a couple of amazing achievements, but I will focus here on women's alpine skiing.

Yesterday, during women's Super G race, things were going almost in a routine fashion. The best in the world were holding the first three spots (except that the best out of best ones was sharing the fifth place. And she would've been leading if she didn't make that error at the very end).

And then something happened that has never happened before. The girl who wasn't supposed to be on the top, or in the top twenty, started her run as the 26th skier. Her run was bumpy, wild, maybe shaky too, but throughout the run, she was leading and when she crossed the finish line, her time was in "green".
That meant that she was leading, that she posted the fastest time. She was 0.01 seconds, faster than the current leader, the defending Olympic champion from the skiing nation, Austria.

TV camera focused on her upper body, so we were able to see her face. Her face looked puzzled. She was standing there, almost confused, I guess looking at that green colour, and not believing that she was indeed on the top. That was something so pure and amazing.

This was more incredible because she is not a skier, she is a snowboarder, that's what you'll find on the internet, and even more importantly, that's who she considered herself to be - a snowboarder.

An even more amazing reaction, excitement, and emotions came from commentators. Our Canadian commentators were freaking out - they let out their emotions too, it was pure happiness. Like kids.

It felt so good to watch and to listen to all of that.

Another crazy thing is that she borrowed Super-G skis before the race, and her lender was another equally amazing athlete.

The good thing for us, for viewers and audience, is that there still might be more. Ester Ledecká will compete in her snowboarding events, in the sport that she's dominated. That means that she has a chance to win gold in snowboarding. If that happens, it will be the first time ever that anyone won a gold medal (or medals) in different sports in the winter Olympics.
What a treat to watch that.

What she did is comparable to someone who is really good at badminton but decides to play tennis as well, and then goes to Wimbledon and wins it.
How incredible that would be.

The Olympics have been always been inspirational from so many angles. This was the ultimate one. Perhaps the most descriptive and humble comment came from the best female skier ever - she said:
"All I can say is I wish I had so much athleticism as she does to be able to win at two sports in the same Olympics, because I'm only good at one sport, and that's ski racing. So the fact that she was able to beat all of us and be a snowboarder is pretty darn impressive".

There are no limits.

My first run in 2018

I slacked in 2018 so far. In regards to running. Today was the first day I went running in this year, and it is already January 18th. In the past, by now, I would complete at least 8,9 runs.
I can certainly find a couple of excuses: It was too cold, it was Christmas time, it was New Years, I spend the majority of my time skiing.....
But then, I did similar things in the past. I did go running on - 25 C. I did go running during Christmas and New Years. I did ski a lot in December and January.
What was different this time?

I got scared by cold weather. I just couldn't push myself to go running, to simply get going. I was thinking about cold and about being cold. But then, I did go mountain climbing, I did go backcountry skiing, I did go resort skiing, I even did go shopping  :). And during all of these activities, it was almost - 30 C.

Did I become weak? Am I getting old? Am I tired of being uncomfortable? Or was it just a period in which my body wanted to rest. To take rest from running.
Perhaps. I don't know. I might find out it when there is another super cold weather snap......
Quite interesting how all of these questions pop up in my mind, and I start questioning myself.
As it's never enough.

But, I did go running today and I did enjoy my first run in 2018. It was still "cold", well, just -9 C, but for us at this latitude and altitude, that's warm.
I chose a flat route, as I didn't want my lungs to complain. I knew that my legs might complain, but they didn't :).
The flat route was really not that flat, it was still hilly, but it didn't push me as other "normal' routes.
I was listening to my body, the way how it was reacting to the terrain. It was interesting how even on very small hills I slowed down, even though I wanted to keep the pace. My brain wanted it, but my body was unable to comply. I just slowed down.

But I kept pushing.
It was a wonderful feeling, running again, being completely free. Being off-grid. Using your own power. Being connected with nature.
Feeling my lungs and heart.
Being alone but not lonely.

Running again.

I am racing again

It felt out of this world to be competing again. It was not a long ago when I thought that I won't be able to do it again.
And then somehow, I did it.

I thought that 2017 would be the first year since last century in which I wouldn't do a race. Well, I was running, getting back in shape, regaining my confidence. I was doing hills again, pushing, puffing, feeling my lungs complaining, my legs disobeying. Perhaps procrastinating, especially before interval training and no surprise, punishing hills.
Or before working on my core, and realizing that there was not much core left.
But I didn't race. I was scared. I thought that everyone would know that I was that guy who didn't believe that he could do it.
And I wasn't a professional athlete. I didn't have a team.

I missed that racing excitement. Racing high. Going through all the routine before the race. Breathing, trying to relax, and thinking about the crux. Knowing that it is going to hurt on the hills. Knowing that I will be without breath and that my muscles will be choking.
But also knowing that others will be hurting too.
Knowing that I've seen and felt things that they haven't.

I used to race a lot. During all seasons, and the harder the track, the more demanding weather, the more remote area were, I would feel better about it. I would strive on a steep, single track uphill battle grounds, how I called them. Hills were my friends. Each one of them thought me something about myself, the most, how not to quit, ever.

I learned about a second wind. How it always comes, inevitably. When there is only one thought left  - to stop, and to quit pain. And then, that feeling of adrenaline....rushing, and feeling that I move again, using my own power.
Or was it just confirming what I always knew, or perhaps what I learned during Sarajevo siege?
When there was no time to quit. When there was no option called quitting.
At that time I wasn't given that comfortable option, to be able to quit, to simply leave, or to stop.

And somehow now, after 25 years, I got so spoiled, I got so weak, that I couldn't race. Because I was afraid that I would quit, that I would hurt, and that I would fail. What a problem!

It was pathetic - no race can be that tough or comparable to Sarajevo siege. And yet, it took me so long to do it again. Yes, my arm is still not good, but it is not essential for running - why would such thoughts froze me?
I wasn't frozen a quarter of century ago, when I didn't have a choice.
I don't know how I pulled it then - but it seems it got engraved in whatever is that being that is me.

The butcher and his armada who bombed us for 1425 days and who just got sentenced in the Hague taught me invaluable lesson - Never Quit. Race Again. Be Patient. Forgive. Love. Never take anything for granted.
Who would ever think and believe that I could learn such things from a war criminal?

1425 days was a long time. Only people who lived through it do understand it.

Back to racing - When I crossed the finish line, I felt happier, perhaps then ever - I knew that I was doing it again. I was simply doing it, and that was again the only goal - to run.