Telluride

One

Two years ago:

"Racers, are you ready?" A loud voice blared over the speakers above my head, announcing that the time had come, and the race was set to start. I shivered and stood up, the 20 degree windy weather and the large amount of nervous adrenaline ran chaotically through my veins.

Throwing my hood over my head to attempt to warm my body a little, I raised my eyes to my brother, Mark, who stood on top of the hill at the start of the race. He was swaying back and forth, most likely going over the course in his head before the bullhorn rang out, and the competition began.

"I can't believe we're here!" Morgan, my best friend, said from beside me as she gave me large hug through our even larger coats. I laughed and hugged her back. She was genuinely excited to be here, in the cold, accompanying me and cheering on my brother.

Mark was a professional skier. Today he was racing for the title of State Champion in Colorado along with three other senior guys who wanted to take home the beloved trophy. Mark had been practicing for months leading up to this day. Everyday after school, he would travel to the Ski resort 30 miles from our house, and hit the slopes. It took dedication, long days, and exhausted my brother, but no matter what, he came home that night and spent time with my dad and I. We cheered him on, and supported him with whatever new goal he came home with, because Mark had a dream; and that dream was going to take him places.

"I know, I can't decide if I'm nervous for him, excited or both. I just know that he's practiced his heart out for this and he's more than ready." I replied back to Morgan and looked once more to my brother where he was standing still now and I said a little prayer over him for safety.

"Here we go racers..." The announcer came back on the speakers and informed the large audience below the hill that the race was starting. "In three, two, one."

The bullhorn sounded, and the four guys were off. For the first few hills, they stayed with one another, neck and neck, no one taking the obvious lead. But then the first turn came into play, and Mark gained the inside and took first place. Morgan and I screamed out our approval and excitement along with many of Mark's other fans. He was flying through the course, making it look effortless, impressing me and making me nervous at the same time.

The race continued on and Mark kept gaining the lead little by little, with every slight turn their was. But as the races entered into the third large turn, a racer in a red jersey cut Mark off and stole the inside lane. Cheers erupted from the other side of the stadium, and few gasps were heard near me.

Yet Mark stayed close by, and the two were now what looked like, tied for first place.

The fourth turn was in sight for the two, with only a few hills in between them and the deciding win factor.

"You are watching history ladies and gentleman" the announcer made his appearance again, spectating the race, "we have never, seen a race this tight before for the Colorado Men's Ski Race Championship! Day and Williams fight for first as they take the fourth turn.... and Day has it! Day has the lead!"

My heart sunk as I watched the red competitor take the lead and spray Mark with snow as he left him behind. Morgan grabbed my hand and squeezed tight. The crowd around us got quiet, knowing what was most likely the outcome of the race.

But then something happened.

Day took the last jump and lifted into the air, the finish line twenty yards away, Mark trailing just feet behind him. Day pumped his fist in the air and screamed out with confidence, but when he hit the ground, he collapsed right where he landed. He spun out and his skis went flying in different directions, but the boy stayed where he was, laying with his back down in the snow.