Half Way There

HELLLOOO fellow bloggers. Well I guess I shouldn’t totally doubt that my only readers are fellow classmates because I know for a fact that I do have some real followers… Shoutout to my mom’s book club! 

DO YOU WANT TO KNOW SOMETHING COOL? 

FYI that was rhetorical. I am going to tell you something cool either way.

Anywho, WE ARE EXACTLY HALF WAY THROUGH THE SCHOOL YEAR. 

We are at the peak of a steep, STEEP mountain and will soon be gracefully heading down. 

Actually… I take that back because really we are still going up. School ain’t gunna to get any easier. Lunch ain’t gunna get any yummier. The building ain’t gunna get any bigger. The clock ain’t gunna move any faster. And your stress level ain’t gunna get any lower. 

However, now my fellow students and I can get a good idea of what to expect as we arrive at the dungeon each morning. Such as the hallways.

The ladies causing traffic. 

Our hallways have a very close resemblance to a highway. During rush hour. The right side goes one way and the left side goes the opposite. But then there are those groups of girls that just can’t seem to figure it out and cause problems. I mean seriously, it is not necessary to stop in the middle of the hallway(causing traffic) just to tell your bestie how cute their outfit is today. This is a very nice compliment but it’s not like the outfit will lose its cuteness by lunch!

In Park City, Ninth grade is one of the biggest years of our lives. We are the children that the streets of our town is watching out for because we earn our permits and are newbies on the roads. Well some of us at least, I don’t get it because some kids wait another six months after their birthday before they get their permit. Why would you ever put the freedom to drive on hold? It will always remain a mystery to me. On March 25th 2015, Park City better make way because that is the day my hands will touch the steering wheel and my foot will push the gas pedal. You know assuming I pass the test… knock on wood.

Ninth grade is also our last year at Treasure before we enter the menacing Park City High School. But it is sort of nice because we won’t be the scrawny freshmen walking the halls… We will be the totally mature and fully developed sophomores. I just love the ring of that! “Sophmores”. It sounds so… so sophisticated.

Oh man I am gettin’ myself too excited too fast again! I keep forgetting that we still have two whole quarters left. 90 days filled with pure happiness… Or stress, hunger, and misery. It is how ever you choose to look at it. 

The Dreadful Loveliness

There is nothing more lovely than being forced to wake up in negative fourteen degree weather. And then being forced to train gates in it. And then being forced to strip down all jackets to a skin tight speed suit. I might as well be wearing a bikini. And then being forced to do it all over again the next day. And again the next day, and so on until the season ends. It's quite lovely you see, depending on how you define the adjective "lovely."

Look how "lovely".

If you are feeling a little slow on this fine winter night, I will be the kind person I am and end your confusion. This is an example of "sarcasm": the use of irony to mock or convey contempt. If you are still struggling to catch up, I will put it as simply as possible. In reality, all those "lovely" things I said before are not so lovely at all. As a matter of fact, I would describe them as the exact opposite: dreadful. With a capital "D".

I have a confession to make. I am not physically forced to participate in the sport of skiing each day. However I do it anyway. Why? I do not know. It must be one of those "interesting passions" we humans sometimes find ourselves caught up in. I feel astounded when I find myself at the top of Park City Mountain Resort each day in negative fourteen degree weather wearing nothing but a thin speed suit. (so practically nothing). But then I continue to run our course for the next two hours.

Man, I am a weirdo.

A couple of my fellow ski racers gettin' ready
to embrace the "lovely" outside world.

There is no other sport that is more weather dependent than ski racing (except for maybe sailing). For instance, say a huge gust of wind blows when you are running a course, setting you back a good second or two. This was purely the wind's fault therefore it doesn't matter at all. You could seriously have some once in a lifetime outstanding run, but then the wind completely wrecks it for you three gates to the finish. I guess it is best to keep Mother Nature on your side. Nonetheless, ski racers are probably some of the toughest athletes. We train through snow. We train through rain. We train through scorching heat. We train though thunder. HOWEVER, we do not train through lightning.

Sometimes I pray for lightning.

Don't tell the coaches I said that... Our little secret!

I am a ski racer. I should be tough. But once the temperature reaches the point where my coaches tell me not to leave the building without my face fully covered, or that moment when I have to pop blisters on my toes from the early stages of frostbite, I just can't deal any longer.

So Mother Nature, I know you are reading this because I have been requesting cold temps so our mountain can make artificial snow; you obviously granted that wish. You know how tough ski racers are. We are able to adapt to most of your mood swings, but this one is just a little far out of our reach. So, do you think you could possibly just bring us out of the negative temperature zone? It doesn't make our sport feel very lovely at all!