I am a professional snowballer. As a professional snowballer, I pride myself in taking the smallest speck of information (one small snowflake), and taking that snowflake to its most dramatic, significant, and often dark conclusion (a giant snowball).
Annie Pokorny, after returning from an adventure in the west earlier this summer, asks if I want to go get coffee.
Amateur Snowballer Conclusion:
OH. So nice. She wants to catch up, talk about the last three weeks of our lives (we only communicate in person or in selfies), and enjoy a great cup of coffee during this unusually cool summer day.
Professional Snowballer Conclusion
Ohmygod. She loves the west, was mad at humidity this morning, and is asking me to coffee to tell me that she is in fact leaving the east forever, never going to see me again, and is using this as her two week (week?!? no probably two hour. Maybe even minute. Is that why she got a to-go cup?) notice. Fine.
As most of you probably ascertained (especially if you saw the post where Zach Caldwell of Caldwell Sport actually called us cute) the #Annies are still going strong, and the Amateur Snowballer had the right conclusion.
I’m not sure when I became such an illustrious snowballer. Further, I can’t decide whether being a professional snowballer helps or hurts me. On the one hand, I feel prepared for almost any scenario. On the other, I probably expend a lot of energy coming up with almost every possible outcome to any given situation. My snowballing capabilities are likely my greatest strength, while also marking my biggest weakness.
Snowballing is actually very handy as a ski racer. I consider myself a tactical skier, and before races I like to imagine different ways races could play out, and how I’d respond. Before my last race freshman year at Dartmouth, the Dartmouth carnival team discussed what our arch-rivals UVM would do to try and win the race. It was decided that we could not let them get in a line, and I came up with a plan. The second I saw the UVM women lining up to take control, I was going to go for it. So going into high school hill the second lap of three, I saw the UVM women getting into position. I turned to Rosie Brennan, told her I was going to go, and I did. I flew up the hill, fell at the top, but the move was effective and decisive, and Rosie won her last carnival (I came in fifth). A snowball success.
Despite my many snowball success stories, occasionally snowballing leads to overthinking, over-trying, and over-doing. I can get so caught up in what might happen, that I forget to pay attention to what actually is happening. It’s pretty easy to do, especially this time of year. With our departure to West Yellowstone only nine days away, and the first official race of the season 18 days away, I find myself getting wrapped up in the future and forgetting to focus on the now. It’s
good GREAT that I’m more excited to race than ever before, but I also need to remember to pay attention to my current to-do lists and needs. We just had a wonderful week of training with some spectacular November weather, and next week is shaping up to be another great one.
I’m going to sideline the snowballing for just a little bit, relax, and enjoy my last bits of “easy-living” before the suit-case life begins. In other words, I’m going to focus on the Tom Haverford way of “balling.” But first, some pictures!