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Start of the season over here in Europe? It is just great to come home after 5 months of Eastern world and its mentality, call friends and go surfing on the Croatian coast on a huuuge jetlag. Five hours of sleep and driving a friend’s van, because he’s too tired after 10 hours of sleep, can’t get better. Red bull overdose and slaying our ship on wheals down to the coast. And nothing can surprise more than a snowfall all over Slovenia at 3am. Like going on a ski vacation in France! But no, we were just cruising to Medulin, a spot in Istria that only works after couple of days of SW winds. Coming there at 6am and watching the biggest waves I have ever seen over here with my friends was the best feeling. Don’t get me wrong. Australia and Bali were great but here… This was just the sickest thing ever. Coming from the snow-coverd inland to the stormy coast, where there is no sign of other surfers, just woke up my ‘adrenaline seeking’ side. I didn’t even think of anything else but grabbing my board, rubbing some wax on it and rushing into 16-degree-cold water after putting on the tightest wetsuit ever.

We were in the water for 3 hours and I started to feel cold as never before. Coming from the 34-degree-hot Singapore to the 8-degree-really-not-that-warm-with-the-windchill-factor Croatia can’t be really good to your body. But still, getting all those cool glassy waves and shreding on them with a big smile on my face, almost blue from the cold, just made so much sense as my welcome-back-home trip.

I was so happy! After catching some right handers, we grabbed a beer. It just couldn’t get better.

The Croatian coast

Surfing buddies

Me

or: What Happened When Others Weren’t Expecting

Skiing, as you may know, can be a dangerous sport. Most of the time, a wipe out leads to a yard sale (when your ski gear spreads out over the slope after a wipe out) and everyone is OK and laughing—a bruised tail bone or ego is all you go home with that day. Others, however, have had more traumatic experiences, though often still humorous. As long as someone doesn’t have to be flown home in a casket, I think you can always find a little amusement. At any rate, I’ll add some of my own (and others’) ski holidays that had a unexpected twist. If you got any slapstick ski stories to toss in, then by all means tell me about them here. (We’ll take a vote in about a month to see who gets the best “Gone Bad Ski Trip” award for 2009.)

Took My Girlfriend Out:
This is one of my own stories, one where I play the protagonist and by girlfriend the antagonist—though she may still see it differently. Neither of us are expert skiers. We stick to the easy and intermediate slopes and become experts when it comes to the resort food and late night drink-fests. Anyway, we were skiing in Courchevel in France in the Les Trois Vallees and both took to the slope at the same time.

I am, of course, crazier than she, so I was zigzagging, trying to show off. My girlfriend was pretty much bee-lining straight for the bottom. Instead of either going behind or in front of her, as we both caught some nice speed, I ran straight into her. “How does a person who weights 72 kg (~165 lbs) take up the space of a bear? You are a Manimal,” she often tells me at least thrice per day. That day, my bearness was out of control. When I said “Took my girlfriend out” above, I didn’t mean to fine dining and a movie. I mean, actually, that I took her legs out from underneath her body. I was Superman-ing downhill while she was on her back, sliding down backwards, legs up in the air—kid you not—like a turtle! We slowed down and I got a beating of a life time; I think she even kicked me in the ribs. Save for a few bruises and scrapes, we didn’t really feel hurt until the next day when we had to shower in hot water for twenty minutes in order to walk straight. Girls have a funny way of getting even over a very long time, but I won’t go there now…

Check Out Her Rack:
Though this is something you might say to your buds over sipping some brewskies, unfortunately, I’m neither talking about fun bags, jugs nor knockers. This story will be much quicker, because conversations about melons never end. At any rate, my two friends Sheila and Bart had just gotten back from a ten day ski holiday in Italy. Bart retold with hilarity how in Livigno, Italy, to be exact, Sheila had somehow managed to get her ski pole forcefully, aptly and firmly between her legs. Apparently, Sheila lost some control after rushing down a pretty intense blue slope and in an effort to (stop?, keep balance?, keep going?) gain control, she got her ski pole stuck in the frozen ground in front of her. In one single motion, she ended up with the ski pole racking her between the legs. When she came to a stop, according to Bart, she laid holding her bruised nether-regions for several long minutes. Shelia told me later that the worst was how Bart kept laughing at her, not helping her one bit. She eventually got up and started beating Bart on his back. They were equally bruised when they got to their hotel that night, I (without asking) understood.

Now, it’s your turn to add your ski vacation story that went for the worst:

In Soelden I had the chance to witness a debate between experts on two different theoretical coaching approaches. The topic of the debate in question was alpine skiing and the problem of wasted talent. Everyone involved in the debate agreed that one particular skier had not succeeded in developing his talents to the fullest. There were several reasons, one of them certainly being his way of life which, with little training and a lot of partying, wasn’t entirely dedicated to success.

The first coach’s theory was that everything is lost if the athlete in question doesn’t have the necessary discipline: “No matter how talented he is, if he isn’t prepared to apply himself, every effort is in vain.”. I admit that I agreed with him, but then another opinion got my attention: “If the athlete doesn’t know how to fulfill his potential, he needs guidance.” Of course, everyone agreed that the athlete has great potential and is capable of achieving top results in at least two alpine disciplines. “If we consider that everyone benefits from the athlete’s success, sufficient support should be provided. An individual approach, tailored to the athlete’s needs, is necessary. If he needs supervision, then supervision should be provided. If he needs a psychologist, he should talk to one. One should talk to the athlete and truly get to know him, only then can he reach his goals.”

This made me think – in the past, I had a habit of doing things at the last minute. Preparation for college exams and tests in high school…I always knew the exact date of the exam, but I never started to study earlier than two days in advance. Sure, this approach brought OK grades, but certainly not excellent ones. How much better could I have been, had someone motivated me and studied with me?

Talent is not always enough to reach top levels in alpine skiing. Companies that sponsor athletes are undergoing financial troubles, so skiers now have to rely on themselves more. The coach might suggest a workout regime by e-mail and leave everything else to the athlete. No one could say if he’ll be in good enough shape for winter training on the slopes.

If every skier had the iron discipline of Hermann Maier, the competition would be a lot stiffer. Would Tina Maze have won the silver medal if she didn’t train and live the way she does? I dare say she wouldn’t have. It would be much more likely that she would stagnate in the team and perhaps even end her career. It is clear that her way of working makes her happy and she is looking forward to new challenges. And all that, just because she has a team around her that she can totally trust and that revolves around her 24/7.

If you’re a newcomer to the fascinating world of skiing (or snowboarding), then you may not entirely know what to expect. You either know a little from listening to friends chatter or from what you’ve seen on TV (or YouTube, et al.). I’ve come up with four possible expectation scenarios that I think are plausible for the neo-skier: If you’re a tenderfoot or a go-getter or something between, you likely fit under one of the following categories (sorry to pigeonhole). Before you leave for your first ski holiday, humor me and read my psychobabble on the physical and mental and emotional approaches to first-time skiers and boarders.

Those Who Expect Perfect Everything
If you’re the type of person who is used to being waited on hand and foot, then you’ve probably paid some decent Euros for your first time ski getaway. Perhaps, even, you’ve invested in some cute skiing clothes and all the coolest gear—it’s always nice to feel good about what you’re doing. However, if you approach the Slope-full Mother Nature with such Hope-full expectancy, then you might be let down…hard. Perhaps the weather won’t be great on days one and two; perhaps the hotel got over-booked and you had to take the studio apartment; or, perchance you’re feet are just too big to fit into your ski boots, it’s best to come to the ascents with a little room for let down. Ninety-percent of the time all goes as planned, but in order to have the most fun as a powder virgin, you should simmer down and predict that the unpredictable can happen. You won’t be a party pooper then when the toilet gets backed up because Andy clogged it with… whatever.

Those Who Expect To Ski Like A Pro
If you’re one of those gifted athletes who can pretty much catch on to anything—“Kite surfing took me like an hour to learn,”… “That dirt biking trail was a piece of cake,” … “That climb up Kilimanjaro didn’t even wind me,” et cetera—then don’t expect to hit the blacks just yet, or you might end up black and blue all over. (My first time skiing I accidentally took a right on a red and felt like a pansy when I came scooting down the slope on my butt [I thought I caught on quick too].) At any rate, don’t hit the slopes cocky. It’s OK to take ski lessons and learn down the bunny hill. No one will laugh, except you, maybe. No one cares, no one is watching and it’s all in the name of fun. So, be smart and you’ll be a pro in a couple of days.

Those Who Expect To Be Scared
If you come to the hill’s edge with your legs in fact chattering, then you may have some initial fear. No matter the grade, it does seem a bit scary for most at first. If you find yourself feeling anxious, it’s OK to practice at the bottom of the hill. Or, better yet, do as I do: I mentally visualize approaching the slope, looking down it, feeling the zigzagging, the wind, the adrenaline, others zooming in front of me, and me feeling confident and excited. If you can practice some visualization, your mind will be calmer once the real flags go down. Imagine right now sucking on a bright yellow lemon—sour, isn’t it? See, your brain doesn’t know the difference between mentally doing something and really doing it. Practice makes perfect, even if you’ve never really been down a slope in all your life.

Those Who Expect Nothing
I think those who have the least expectations make the best first-timers. I mean, when you’ve got no expectations, then you are open to a limitless supply of newness. One good example is the little kids who follow their ski instructor down the hill for the first time—like chicks following Mama Duck—not scared of following but only focusing on doing. Not to get all hokie on you, but come to the slope as a blank slate, ready and willing to try anything for the first time. Expect less and receive more, I suppose, in a corny sort of way. Above all else, it’s next to impossible not to have fun—plus, there’s always sledding and sleigh rides as a back up.

Last Friday, the ski caravan reunited at Sölden, Austria, where the teams, the press and fans come together after a long half year’s absence from the slopes. The Forum Alpinum is organised annually, each team talks about its preparation for the new season and the leading members of the International Ski Federation present their projects as well. The presence of skiers at such an event is just as interesting as their absence – which usually means that they will not compete this season because of injuries.

Competitive alpine skiing has been pushing the boundaries for a few years now. New skis and materials led to new skiing techniques and brought the sport to an extreme. Forces, which impact the skier, are greater than those in other sports and injuries become more of a reality. The knees and ligaments are the body parts most exposed and subject to injuries. The fact that it is almost impossible to find a competitive skier that didn’t have surgery yet is frightening. Ivica Kostelic once told me that he can’t be and doesn’t wish to be a role model for children who wish to start skiing competitively. “What should I tell them? At 23 years old I’ve gone through five complicated knee surgeries and, at 29, my back can barely support me.”

This year the International ski Federation has presented some novelties concerning the safety of the competitors. The rules for giant slalom were changed, making it slower and more rhythmical than before. Unfortunately, it seems to me that rules can’t change the risk, since skiers will always be pushing their limits and taking more risks. Hundreds of a second decide who wins. The competition is more equal than it ever has been and even those with start numbers over 30 ski extremely well. In 1998, Herman Maier came in tenth in slalom, to which he paid little attention during training. A similar feat could never be achieved today. Benjamin Raich can’t win a medal if he isn’t skiing at his best. And this is when the mistakes leading to injuries happen.

Trainings are getting rougher as well. This year there was little snow on the glaciers, so stones and rocks were showing on the surface. Many skis were destroyed and skiers often injured themselves when falling. Just as an example, Marcus Sandell fell on some rocks and injured himself so badly that they had to remove one of his kidneys (And now he’s even considering to return on the slopes!) It’s all just an endless cycle of injuries. Recession made matters worse because ski companies found themselves in a bad financial position and were forced to cut back on costs. As a consequence, many skiers now have to pay for their equipment and training, which cost a fortune so now, it’s really only the best can make it in the business and actually earn money.

It makes me wonder what would happen if, because of the costs related to competition, many skiers stopped taking part to it. Any true competition will be gone, races will lose their appeal and competitive racing will end. I truly hope this very pessimistic scenario will not become reality, but the fact is that the battle for the daily bread is harsh enough as it is, and it will only worsen with time.

We shall continue admiring the modern day gladiators from our cosy armchairs and be wowed by their boldness, courage and talent, and wait for another one of them to fall…