There's something about nordic races. If you don't know what I'm talking about, you owe it to yourself to go.
When Ben fell in love with the activity in 5th grade, it was fun to ski around the backyard with him, watching him figure it out. When 3 other parents pushed admin to create a MS team (and Dave to coach them all), he was thrilled. His first race was a 1K loop in blustering winds that knocked an alpine ski lift of the rails and his little patootie back down the hill.... and he couldn't wait to race again. In for a penny.
The thing about nordic is you get to know the competitors. All of them, across the league. We transitioned from middle school races to high school. We watched them cut minutes off their times. We watched them grow up.
USCSA races followed, requiring us to travel across NNE to continue snowbanking. There was the girl from Cornell, who asked me to hold her glasses when they kept fogging up. The boy from West Point who had never been on skis and gutted out 4 laps. Ben's teammates, who were continually surprised by us showing up as often as we did. And we showed up as often as we could, because we love to watch. We went to NH on Saturday to watch Clarkson race, knowing the coach and 2 skiers. Bonus--Army was there, too.
Last year, we got to watch him coach/wax for Estonia at the World University Games, and then again at NCAA Nationals. Since then, we've watched (remotely, of course) 4 of his kids ski in World Cup races. We may have only spent about 8 hours with each of these kids, but being there for their success is just as gratifying as it was watching our MVC skiers make gains.
Being a mom has changed my life, but being a nordic mom has enhanced it in ways I never envisioned (although having the Winter Olympics on during labor should have been a clue). That we came to love this sport as parents has infused it with all the memories of all the past events. The Maranacook course reminds me of when Cate gave it a try in 6th grade. Telsar Relays bring back memories of the Dirigo and Telstar teams in a line cheering Ben's friend Isaac as he came out of the woods. Titcomb is where we celebrated many of Ben's birthdays... and on one very cold day Cate confirmed this wasn't the sport for her. I can't think of a trip to Presque Isle without remembering the blizzards they skied in at States. Twice.
Today was MVC Day 2 and I got permission to leave school early to be there. All of Dave's skiers had personal best times on Day 1. This team is not in contention for winning in the traditional sense, nor was anyone looking at a top 10 finish. But when our last girl had not come across the line after all the boys had finished (girls race first this year) I was concerned. A senior and I found some of the boys, who confirmed she was upright, just side-stepping down the hills. I went back to the bridge to see her finish... and when she came down the hill, 2 of her teammates were behind her, coaching her towards the end.
The announcer called out her determination and embodiment of the sport as she crossed the line. I don't think there was anyone left watching but us, but we might as well been with Chad Salmela screaming as Jessie crossed the line for the Gold medal.
Because she did win, and so did this team.
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