Terri wiggled her toes around in her rock solid boots and she could feel tension start to build in her muscles. Getting new ski boots only days before the Olympics had been a terrible idea, but her mom had insisted that she replace her flimsy, mud-coated shoes before appearing live on international television. Terri now thought to herself that she would rather look a little dirty than have her skis fly off her feet halfway down the mountain, or even worse, while she flew through the air.
After a quick shake down to wash away the feeling of impending doom, Terri heard from a distance the cheering of the crowd, meaning that one of her competitors had just performed the first of their three jumps. Her chest rose and fell with ragged breaths, and Terri felt as if she had aged 10 years. She exited the waiting area for contestants and was bombarded by a herd of reporters. They pounded her with invasive questions as they shoved microphones in her face. She had never been on TV before and found herself shrinking under the pressure until she caught a glimpse of a youthful observer at the bottom of the mountain. A young girl with an olive green beanie twice the size of her head stood in the audience observation area. Terri could have seen the grin plastered on her face from miles away. She felt a renewed sense of hope. She knew she could do this, if not for herself then for this little girl who dreamed of having the opportunity that Terri had been given.
One of the nearby sports announcers spoke at a camera with a level of enthusiasm that seemed like it could not possibly be real, and Terri overheard snippets of his speech. “20 years old... First time leaving her home-state of Vermont... How will she stack up against the more experienced Olympic regulars?” She attempted in vain to ignore his voice, but she couldn’t prevent herself from imagining the millions of people worldwide who would be watching her fall down the mountain. Not fall, she tried to tell herself. Fly. And with that thought, an official in an Olympics sweatshirt ushered her to the red line that marked where she would begin her jump sequence.
She had trained on mountains that matched the size of the one she stood on now, but she had never practiced with a cheering crowd of onlookers awaiting her arrival at the bottom of the hill. The windsock flapped wildly as a gust of air blew past, and it looked as scrambled as Terri’s stomach felt. “Representing the US in freestyle aerial skiing, please welcome Terri Yates!” a voice boomed.
With the screech of a whistle, she was off. Muscle memory controlled her and she sped down the slope the same way she had down hundreds of times. Ambition surged through her, and in a split second she made an impetuous decision. Instead of flipping off the middle jump like she had in practice, she swerved and found herself speeding towards the left, the largest of the three jumps available. She felt the ground disappear from under her as she gracefully executed the first flip with ease. However, as she started the twist she could feel that something was off.
Unphased, she crossed her skis and went into another flip. Despite jumping off a higher block than usual, Terri was rapidly approaching the ground. She pulled her knees in towards her chest and uncrossed her skis in preparation for the landing. At least, she tried to uncross her skis.
Forgetting about the audience and the multitude of people watching from their homes, she frantically tried to pry her skis apart, but it was no use. The same tool that had sent her soaring through the sky only seconds ago now caused her to plummet into the firmly packed snow. Her body slammed into the side of the slope and a cacophony of snaps and thuds followed as her pent up velocity sent her rolling the rest of the way down the mountainside.
Terri let loose an involuntary, guttural scream that sent the audience into a crazed panic. She could taste the metallic tang of blood and her head felt like its contents had been churned in a blender. The light of the sun that had once given the slope a pleasant glow was now blinding, and everytime Terri opened her eyes her head throbbed violently. A river of red stained the path of her descent. She felt her consciousness slip away a few moments after her body had come to a halt and a team of paramedics was rushing to her side.
“Take my hand, Terri,” the woman encouraged, crouching down so she could match the height of her 6 year old daughter.
Terri reached out her stubby fingers to her mother, but her knees wobbled as she tried to steady herself in her new, unfamiliar footwear. It had taken a multitude of convincing to get Terri onto the magic carpet that led to the top of the bunny hill, and her mother was not ready to give up yet.
Terri’s hand finally found her mother’s, and she gave the slightest grin as she looked up at her favorite person in the world. Terri spotted out of the corner of her eye a little boy who looked around the same age as her, maybe a year or so younger. His parents waited for him at the bottom of the hill, and after his descent they wrapped him up in a huge hug with pride shimmering in their eyes.
Terri wanted that feeling, the overwhelming joy of pleasing the people she loved. No, she needed it, craved it, lived for it. And with this thought, she was off.
There were, however, a few logistical problems with this. She had absolutely no clue where to point her feet, what to do with her hands, and most importantly, how to stop. She slid her way down the hill on her butt with arms flailing about wildly, crashing into a group of snowboarders who were in the middle of a conversation at the bottom.
Her mother stood unmoving in horror from the bunny hill, terrified that Terri would be turned off from skiing forever. This was not the case.
Terri stood back up and dusted the white powder off of her snowpants, ignoring the bruise that was already forming on her hip. Without a word, she went back to the magic carpet and did it all again.
She spent all day on that bunny hill until she finally got it. Her mother bought her a hot chocolate with extra whipped cream to celebrate, and her approval mixed with the chocolatey warmth of her drink solidified her decision. When she grew up she was going to become a skier.
Terri hesitantly opened one eye, then the other. She had lived in the same little home in Vermont her entire life so waking up in a new location full of new sounds and smells was disconcerting. The hospital walls that surrounded her were far less sound proof than she would have liked, and she could hear the patients in neighboring rooms. Terri heard the faint whisper of someone screaming many rooms away, and her skin became coated in goosebumps.
Luckily, Terri was not given much time alone with her thoughts because a nurse knocked on her door. She was pleasantly surprised to see that Terri was awake, and when asked she informed Terri that a life saving surgery had been performed and Terri had been in recovery for four days.
Terri sat up from the hospital bed with a jolt and instantaneously regretted it. Her body felt like a jigsaw puzzle assembled by an impatient child, with some pieces missing and others shoved in the wrong places. She clenched her jaw to keep from crying out, but a yelp still escaped her mouth. With the utmost caution, Terri positioned herself back down on the cot, taking shallow breaths to avoid exploding pain in her chest, both emotionally and physically.
She had missed her shot. The Olympics would be over now, and by now everyone she knew had almost certainly heard about her atrocious jump. She saw that someone had placed a few of her personal items on the bedside table, which included her phone, but she couldn’t bear to read the messages that people had sent her. She knew they meant well but the last thing she needed was the pity of her loved ones. She didn’t deserve it; this screw up was no one’s fault but her own.
As the nurse changed Terri’s bandages in silence, there was a knock on the door announcing that she had a visitor. Knowing who it would be, Terri felt a wave of guilt wash over her. She had screwed up before, but never something this major, and she could just imagine the look of disappointment in her mother’s eyes. But she knew she couldn’t avoid her mom forever, so she said to come in.
As expected, her mom strode through the door, guns blazing. “Why would you change your routine like that at the last second?” she demanded.
Terri had felt shame before, but never like this. She wanted to hide but she knew moving wasn’t an option, so she avoided her mother’s gaze and stayed completely silent, hoping to get out of this conversation as soon as possible.
“We finally made it big and now you went and screwed up our chances forever,” her mother continued. Mom’s emotions were like a see-saw, constantly switching between intense positives and negatives. She could make you feel on top of the world but the next day you would wish you had never been born.
Terri had always been able to handle this. But now, as she lay broken in a hospital bed, she felt like she could finally see straight.
“We?!? It was never we, it was always you. I love skiing and I always will, but you’re the one holding the reins of my career. I knew you wouldn’t look at me the same if I was anything other than extraordinary so I kept pushing myself, and look where I am now!” Terri exploded, letting the words escape from her like steam from a tea kettle that had been heated for centuries and finally started to boil.
Terri’s mom looked aghast and taken aback by this outburst. She took a second to regroup. With a slightly calmer tone of a trainer speaking to a tiger, her mother said, “I just know you have so much potential and would hate to see it wasted. You know I pushed you for your own good, right?”
“I wish I could believe that, but you just stormed in here, without a “Hello” or “How are you feeling” and expect me to believe this is out of love?” Terri spoke in a shaky voice, unused to speaking up for herself.
Her mother’s face now became completely void of emotion. She stared for a long time at Terri before turning around. She opened the door, but before exiting she uttered softly, “I’ve always loved you, even if you can’t see it.”
Terri’s heart sank. What had she done? How had she said such insensitive things to the one person who had supported her from the very beginning? A tear threatened to fall down her cheek.
She forced her thoughts to stop before they spiraled out of control. Terri had set an important boundary, and while there were potentially disastrous repercussions yet to come, she found a small amount of pride inside her. After years of being pushed around she finally stood up for herself. And with that thought, she passed out from the painkillers she had been given and dreamt of what the future would hold.