'The art of sport of sliding and jumping on skis' is the definition for ‘skiing’ in the Merriam-Webster dictionary. It may be the shortest, most incomplete definition in the big book of words. To me, it contains much more, a much longer version of just sliding and jumping on skis, a paragraph’s worth of words, perhaps even a page. For me, the passion, motivation, attachment, joy, and disappointment as well are just the beginning for the definition of skiing.


January fifth was the kickoff to the ski races for the 2008 school ski teams. My anticipation could not hold, as they have been building up as soon as the summer had ended. As the clock was slowly ticking second after second, hour after hour, it was finally 1:30. At this moment, I took off like a bullet to the ski course I would be racing on. The line was already incredibly long; I assumed almost fifty racers ahead of me. Ever so slowly, one by one, the line descended. Additional displeasure was the thirty minutes wait that instantly froze me to death. My fingers felt like they had been defeated to frostbite and my toes stung with the bitter cold over and over.


Finally, the starter was counting ME off – 3… 2… 1!! I swiftly passed the starting gate heading for the first pole. My first feeling represented the first pole – jovial. It was not much, for I had just started. But this jovial happiness flooded through my body like blood. Through the next four poles, the frostbite had melted with all other feelings of slight nervousness. My passion for skiing had revealed itself once again in the blissful snow. Skiing was the cheese to my macaroni; without it, my life would be incomplete.


By the time I reached my seventh pole, I was in seventh heaven! My race was to be complete in a matter of seconds. At last! I had zipped past the finishing gate. I abruptly stopped, and tumbled down.


“14.27 seconds!” yelled the timer to the recorder.


That very quote launched a parade of emotions. It was unbelievable that I brought about this success. I was overwhelmed with content, bursting with ecstasy. Once again, I was swelling with anticipation to find out what place I held, but that would have to wait until Monday. I was eager to prepare for the next race, the following Saturday, to do even better.


After the race, I took a five minute break, and here, it was the definition of skiing that hit me. Skiing is a sport of passion, freeing your mind of any troubles, letting go of everything to feel that rush of excitement, to become one with the slopes, to try something new. Skiing is creating your own tricks, beating others in races, free-style. Skiing is the cheese to my macaroni; without it, my life would be incomplete.