Tag: skiing

Parenting Athletes: How I Do It

Posted on March 2, 2012 by Jennifer Wolfe

Parenting athletes requires particular obligations-some sport specific, some general to having athletic kids living in the house. Until they move out, we are responsible for keeping track of practices, purchasing equipment and locating lost parts of uniforms.

We calendar games, attend training clinics and volunteer to work in snack shacks or host end of the season banquets. We learn how to run a scoreboard, rake a field and wax skis.

Parents write the checks for tuitions and races, replace cleats on what seems like a monthly basis, and stock the pantry with excessive amounts of food to feed their famished bellies. We know the value of having duffel bags for each sport, and invest in sturdy folding chairs, seat cushions and endless tubes of SPF 45 sunscreen.

Parenting athletes means we wash mouth guards and uniforms, and know the value of Oxi Clean to make grass stains disappear. We wait in cars and on benches for practices to end, and we trudge through heat, wind, rain, and snow to show our supportive faces.

People always ask me how I do it. Why do I drive 125 hours each way, every weekend, to transport my children to a ski hill in the wee hours of the morning. My answer? I just do. Everyone has a busy life. Everyone has places to go, people to see, things to do, jobs to work. And I don’t sleep much.

When your kids have a passion for something, parents make it work. It’s what we do. Our payment is the smile on their faces as they finish a race course, the laugh that erupts as they play with friends in the snow, and the comfort of knowing exactly where they are every weekend night-asleep early in their beds to prepare for the next morning’s 7:00 a.m. training runs.

That’s how I do it. And the why? The photo my daughter texted I received from my daughter last weekend at 7:15 a.m. from the top of Squaw Valley says it all.

She knows a good thing when she sees it. Me, too.

Jennifer Wolfe

Jennifer Wolfe, a writer-teacher-mom, is dedicated to finding the extraordinary in the ordinary moments of life by thinking deeply, loving fiercely, and teaching audaciously. Jennifer is a Google Certified Educator, Hyperdoc fanatic, and a voracious reader. Read her stories on her blog, mamawolfe, and grab free copies of her teaching and parenting resources.

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Friday Photo: Back to the Future

Posted on February 10, 2012 by Jennifer Wolfe

Some days I wish for that machine from ‘Back To The Future’ – the one where I could climb in and time travel backwards. In the movie, Marty McFly found himself thirty years back in 1955, smack in the middle of his parent’s romance.

Mainly, I’d travel back to beautiful places I’ve been in my life. I’d love the convenience of pushing a button and finding myself in a new location. If I felt like great adventures, I’d go to Nicaragua. For youthful abandon, I’d wake up in a hostel in Amsterdam. Missing my childhood pen pal? I’d go back to Yorkshire, England. Nostalgia for family who have passed on would send me back to Sherman Oaks, California. A yearning for academic stimulation would find me in Berkeley.

Today I want to jump in with Marty and travel back to the place where generations of my family have landed before me. I want to walk on the soft white sand towards the lone Cyprus. I want to climb over to Bird Rock and peek into the Whaler’s Cabin at Point Lobos. I want to climb Hawk Tower and stare into the Pacific, imagining Jeffer’s view from the early 1900s. I want to watch my babies bury themselves in the sand of the Bird Sanctuary Beach and giggle as they wiggle their toes free.

Then tomorrow I’ll be back in 2012, immersed in life as I know it today. I’ll be driving from mountain to mountain, cheering my children as they catapult down the ski run. I’ll be packing lunches and loading skis, grading papers and doing laundry, unloading groceries and washing dishes.

But just for today, could you open the door and let me have a moment just for me?

Jennifer Wolfe

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Under Where? Ski Racer Heats Up Controversy

Posted on January 23, 2012 by Jennifer Wolfe

It takes a lot of guts to be a female ski racer. Imagine hurtling your body down 1000 vertical feet on three inch wide, five foot long planks over rock hard icy snow navigating a maze of fiberglass poles spring loaded to smack your body when you hit them. All this is done in a glorified body suit in freezing cold temperatures and within 30-60 seconds.

Sounds like fun, huh?

When my daughter suits up for her slalom ski races this weekend, one thing I wasn’t going to be worried about was her underwear. Seriously – she wears the normal racer gear – layers of long undies, thin wool socks, and a super padded top called a ‘stealth’ to avoid bruising her well muscled torso and arms. When she leaves the start gate no one has ever asked what she was wearing under there.

But after yesterday’s news about Tina Maze of Slovenia being sanctioned from World Cup races due to suspicious ‘plastic underwear’, I’m beginning to worry about her racing future.

Ski races are won and lost in a hundredth of a second, making aerodynamics and wind resistance a huge factor in the competition – hence the skin tight speed suit. But these suits aren’t completely wind proof, and that’s where Tina’s underwear issue comes in. After placing second in her last race in Austria, officials accused her of having an ‘unfair advantage’ due to the type of garment she wore under her speed suit – plastic neoprene underwear supposedly providing additional protection from the wind, thus giving her that extra ‘hundredth’ that might help her win.

The thing about ski racing, though, is that it’s really hard to measure that unfair advantage. Unlike swimming or running, which always has a consistent race measurement, ski racing times and results vary for many different factors. Every hill is different, and every course is different. There is no set time or length for a ski run. Course conditions vary from the first racer to the last racer and from men to women. Weather can impede visibility, melt snow, or blow it into the face of the competitor.

So to me, to accuse Tina Maze of an equivalent infraction to doping seems a tad excessive. Ski racers do what they can to make it down the hill as fast as possible – better wax, sharper edges, a specific type of ski. But I hardly think a ladies’ underwear is cause for sanctions.

Tina Maze via Official Facebook Fan Page

As for my daughter? Well, when she waits in line to cross the wand and start her run, I’ll remind her that ladies NEVER show their undies to anyone. It’s not their business.

Jennifer Wolfe

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Another Day

Posted on December 22, 2011 by Jennifer Wolfe

Her face is turned toward the window, nestled on a deep feather pillow. Long dark lashes flutter as I kiss her cheek, brushing back soft strands of hair from her forehead. It is dark out, yet she will rise and greet another day.

His face is face up, eyes closed, arms thrown back over his head in the same position as when he slept as an infant. I reach down to kiss the sweet spot between his jaw and neck, and he groans and pulls the covers tighter. It is dark out, yet he will rise and greet another day.

Sleepily she pads downstairs, honey colored hair still in a messy braid. Too early to eat, she sips cold orange juice as she pulls on long underwear and ski socks. It is dark out, yet she will go and meet another day.

Groggily he pulls on his fuzzy black and white skull patterned bathrobe and gulps down fresh water. He trods down the stairs, too full of chatter for such an early start. It is dark out, yet he will go and meet another day.

She dresses quickly yet deliberately. No worries about appearances, she thinks only of the snow that awaits her. It is cold out, yet she will be brave and face another day.

He pulls on his layers, sweet grapefruit juice dribbling down his chin. Thinking only of the countdown to Christmas, he hugs me in anticipation. It is cold out, yet he will be brave and face another day.

Methodically she unscrews her ski helmet face bar in the dark lodge, preparing for the morning workout ahead of her. Layer upon layer upon layer she bundles up and heads towards the lift, tousled braid whipping in the wind. It is dawn out, and she gets to have another day.

Slowly he prepares for the snow, insisting on doing it alone. His fuzzy brown head disappears beneath a royal blue helmet and goggles, contrasting the lime green and black of his jacket. We kiss goodbye, my assurance I will be waiting for him when he returns. It is dawn out, and he gets to have another day.

Yet as I sit by the window watching the sun crest the snow-covered hills, I cry for the mother and child who are apart, who will never feel their arms around each other again, and who cannot brush away each other’s tears.

It is bright out, and I get to have another day.

Jennifer Wolfe

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