Words. Sometimes. Maybe...: March

March has never inspired anyone to say, "Wow. This is why I love ski racing." It does nothing to remind you of your love for the sport. It does not stir up feelings of affection for the cold or the snow or the wind or godforsaken giant slalom. This is the month in which we all remember every shitty moment of the past three months. Your past failures are highlighted and you start to feel your drive to make it all the way to April break wane. Room mates cannot seem to draw their attention away from the faults of the person who sleeps above or below them. The current state of decay that is "March" is fast upon us.

Now is when you wonder how you made it last year and the year before and the year before that. But really it's just going to be a shitty couple of weeks and then there is a certain liberation; a weight is lifted off of your shoulders as you realize that there will be no more snow. The wind will stop being so harsh and the weather will stop being so mean. Then, in no time at all, you'll be walking barefoot from class to class and rushing from softball practice in hopes of catching the last 5 minutes of the lacrosse game. (You will never see the end of the game, no matter how quickly practice wraps up.) Then there will be springtime. (Shorts! And tanktops! And a super cool Avengers skirt!) Springtime means that laying on the soccer field for the entirety of the afternoon is acceptable. It means bus rides and dirt and mismatched kneehigh socks and a brand new bat (!!!!!!). Then comes the time to sign yearbooks and wish all the friends goodbye. This is a thought that seems both liberating and restraining. It's all over, but in some ways you don't want it to be and because you can't do anything about the fast approaching end, you feel like you're roped to the train tracks.

So, before we get ahead of ourselves, I think it might be important to remember that while March might be the worst month yet, there are still the last few weeks of skiing to look forward to, even before the spring. You know, those warm days when a light sheen of sweat constantly exists between your skin and your GS suit. The mornings where you go out with a neckie on and take it off before getting to the top of the lift. The days when there is no longer enough snow to train GS so we only do slalom. The last day of training or the mogul competition or the day when we all roll fence at South, sweating and definitely swearing.

I hate March, but it's supposed to be alright after that. Why you might ask? Because I said so.