Dear Skiing,

You will always be a great love of my life. To be clear, our relationship hasn’t always been easy, and that’s honestly why I love you all the more.

I once fell out of love with you entirely. When I was deep in my battle with anorexia, I nearly lost you and countless other loves of my life. I couldn’t train the way I wanted to, I couldn’t compete, I couldn’t even show up for my friends and family and myself. During that time, it felt like maybe you had given up on me. Or maybe something inside me had given up on you. Skiing, the thing I had always turned to for warmth and joy, suddenly felt cold as ice.

Coming back wasn’t simple. As I was beginning to heal mentally, my body broke instead. I ripped apart my leg and tore most of my knee, and yet strangely, that injury felt easier to face. The love was back. Besides, after everything my mind had been through, fixing something physical seemed straightforward: rest, rehab, strengthen, and eventually I’d make it all the way back to you.

Healing took longer than expected, and in that forced distance, something shifted. I realized how much I missed not just the act of skiing, like ripping a clean arc or winning a race, but also everything that came with it. Skiing has given me the world, quite literally. Travel, perspective, and friendships that became family. Skiing gave me a community that held me up when I was at rock bottom, and it helped me find who I am, even when I’m not in a start gate.

When I say you are one of the great loves of my life, I don’t mean a single ski day or a perfect turn. I mean the people. The lessons. And opportunities. The grit, resilience, and passion you demanded of me and quietly built into who I am. You taught me how to fight, how to fail, how to get back up, and how to believe in myself when it would have been easier not to.

My love for you goes far beyond sport. It’s a deep-seated gratitude for the person I’ve become, for the life I get to live, and for the version of myself that exists because of you. I wouldn’t be who I am today without you.

Sincerely,

Alice