|
December 29,
2003:
Last October I had dinner
with Peter and two other friends, Jim and Pat. It was a
nice little send off for our buddy who would be defending
his world champion title in less than two weeks.
Two months earlier we’d sat
together in a coffee shop and an emotional Reid confessed he
didn’t think he’d be able to do it.
“Win?” I asked.
“No – race at all,” he
responded.
It had a been a rough year
for him. I knew that. He’d moved three times, separated
from his wife and lost his father. He had issues!
Now here we were, chowing
down on sushi on my back patio. Peter had a few good months
under his belt and was infinitely more confident in his
chances. I don’t believe that he really believed he could
win, because he “just didn’t get his ass in the saddle
enough” but the issue of whether he’d finish or not was no
longer considered.
“If I come top two in Hawaii,
I’m taking you guys to Silver Star for a few days of Nordic
skiing.
Jim and Pat were excited at
the idea – both avid skiers. Jim was a former instructor at
Whistler and Pat was a former Patrolman at Lake Louise. And
me? Suddenly I was selfishly praying for him to come in
third.
The last time I cross country
skied was with my father on hand-made skis. Gerald Ford was
the president of the United States. Google him if you’re
too young remember when that was.
Because of my sinful past, my
prayers were ignored and Pete ran like a man possessed into
second place. I was proud of his effort but hoped the heat
of the Kona sun would inflict some memory fatigue and the
ski trip would be forgotten. For a while there I thought it
had been. He came home and we all celebrated his great
day. Nothing was mentioned about skiing. I started to
breathe a little easier.
A week ago Jim, Pat and
myself got the email. The condo was booked and we were
heading to Silver Star. My heart filled with fear.
Knowing the boys would be
skate skiing, I immediately went out and purchased some
cheap classic skis – thereby ensuring pleasant days filled
with solo skiing.
Things didn’t exactly work
out that way but I sure had a good time anyway and I leaned
all about some interesting new muscle groups.
Peter had a lot of fun up on
the mountain as well. We drank a few glasses of good wine
in the condo and a few too many glasses of “The backhand of
God,” at the bar in the village. It’s off season for him
and he has no problem relaxing in the evenings and cutting
loose. But in the day? In the day he’d hook up with Glen
Bond, the Nordic director up at Silver Star, for three to
four hours of “steady effort” skiing – then, while the rest
of us were having a session in the hot tub, he was having a
session in the weight room.
I believe 2005 will be Peter
Reid’s best year in the sport. He learns from his mistakes
as much as he learns from his victories. He’s focused and
the “distractions” of last year are last year. They’re
gone.
I’ve suggested to Pete he
brush up on his German, because I know this year in Hawaii
he’ll be meeting new people on the bike, but then he’s
really not a big talker out there, so maybe it’d just be a
waste of his time.
I don’t expect to see too
much of him in the coming months but I’m going to Kona this
year and I know I’ll be seeing him there – coming down the
drive. I’ll be the guy cheering the loudest.
|
