There seems to be this unspoken tradition with winter sport athletes.  Perhaps even more so in the ski community… It is that once the season is over high tail it somewhere warm.  Somewhere sunny.  And more often than not, somewhere with a beach.

For most of us when the end of the season rolls around we are pretty much toast.  Mentally.  Physically. Done.  Growing up I’d always forge head first into another running season…but over the last few years come spring time I’ve given in to my body being done.  To the idea that my body needs that off season.  Last year and definitely this year I knew that the last race of the season was my “last race”.  The idea of mentally hanging on for another week, or two would seem unbearable.

Last year I spent a week at home before heading back out West for the rest of my spring semester.  My patella quit whole heartedly on me and I slept 12 hours a day.  My body was done.  plum tuckered out.  This year I got sick coming back from Europe which I think allowed me to race mentally through nationals.  There were invites to go to Mammoth, or Charlo, or Whistler….just one more weekend of racing, or two, you can do it.  I used what seemed a logistical nightmare of getting me across the country as an excuse to be done for the season…but truthfully… My body was done.  It was calling it quits, and if I didn’t listen it sure would have put up a fight.

So I spent some time at home, roaming around the midwest, taking in the last bits of snow on the Birkie trail.  Enjoying the occasional sunny spring afternoon and secretly wishing all the snow would melt away faster.  I needed spring.

Spring has finally arrived welcomed in by the home opener for the Twins at target field!  The snow is gone.  As a winter sport athlete…I really do love summer. shhh.

I’m off to the Western part of the country in search of sunshine, mountains, good food, good company, and beverages of choice. I’ll be back.  Rejuiced.  And who knows, maybe even a darker shade of pale!


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