Today I am thinking about Jenny, who is running her first ultra. The training alone is a massive accomplishment. She’s made it all this way and I hope she is feeling strong and confident and capable as she runs. 

I used to run – not that I ever counted myself as A Runner. I ran simply because I enjoyed it, but eventually had to stop due to persistent knee pain. I feel incredibly lucky that my body allowed me to run for so long, and that I am still able to do so much. I recognize my physical abilities as the gifts that they are. But I do miss it.

I still remember the feeling that running gave me. That feeling of strength. Of connection to the physical realm: my body, the pavement beneath my soles, the air and sun on my skin. 

It was a wonderful sensation, but one that is dwarfed by the feeling I get when I ski. 

Skiing is, on the face of it, an insane thing to do. You allow a pulley to transport you, via a rickety bench, thousands of feet up a mountain, strap narrow planks to your feet, point yourself down a steep, tree-lined expanse of snow, and try not to fall or crash into anything before you reach the bottom. I would love to meet the person who came up with this idea and ask them WHAT they were thinking.

It may be ridiculous, but I have been downhill skiing since before I was two. It’s not something I do as often as I like, but it’s one of my favorite activities. I’m not an expert skier by any means, but I’m good at it. And I would say that it’s one of a very few things that makes me feel purely, triumphantly good. 

My family and I went skiing over spring break a few weeks ago and it was some of the best skiing I’ve experienced in years. Maybe, partly, because my feet are doing better and I’ve been able to exercise again, so my body felt fit and strong. Maybe because the snow was perfect and the weather was excellent. Maybe because I am a good skier, and it feels so satisfying to be engaged in something I’m good at. 

Like I said, I’m not an expert. I definitely prefer groomed blues and blacks, with the occasional mogul field thrown in. I get crabby if the snow is too wet or too icy, or if the weather is too hot or too snowy. I’m not jumping out of a helicopter onto a mountain peak or doing double black diamond trails through the woods. But I feel certain that I could get down pretty much any run, if I had to. 

I am not “sporty.” I am not graceful or lithe. But on skis, especially when the snow is that ideal texture of dry powder on packed snow, I feel athletic and agile, capable and confident. 

And the exhilaration of soaring down a fresh white mountain face, clouds and sky peeking over your shoulder, the valley laid out below you like a gift…

The hypnotic, automatic rhythm of your turns – gravity pulling, your legs resisting just the tiniest bit – your blood pumping steady, strong, your trajectory masked by plumes of your own snowfall…

The scrape of ski blade on snow crust, the bite of winter against your face, your breath darting away from you, unable to keep up…

There’s nothing like it. Nothing in the whole wide world. 

Do you have something that gives you that feeling? A feeling of confidence and competence? A feeling that fills you with pride and elation? A feeling that you are doing a thing the way it is supposed to be done? 

Maybe you feel this way when you give a presentation at work… Or when you’re writing or painting… When you’re baking a cake… Or singing in the shower… Or soothing a friend… I just want to know what makes you feel like you are in your element.