From the Ski for Light Bulletin - Summer 2012
by Krista Erickson and Heather Berg
SFL veterans know first-hand how their experience has shaped or even reshaped their lives, and we hear from first-timers on-site in the midst of their discovery. But how does it sink in? We asked first-timer Krista Erickson to give us the inside scoop from six months beyond Ski for Light 2012 in Provo. Check it out:
The best way for me to try to explain what effect SFL has had on me so far is to share a few thoughts and stories. Initially, I wasn't sure --for a while after returning from Utah I really didn't give the actual effects of participating in Ski for Light much, if any, serious thought.
For quite a while I'd heard and mostly read about Ski for Light. Usually such a mention was followed by thoughts such as that sounds like fun, or someday I'd like to try that. I let various distractions, mostly work, keep that from happening. One day last fall I read yet another announcement for Ski for Light and suddenly decided (I'm still not sure quite why) that someday would never happen if I didn't apply --right then, while I was still sitting at the computer. I could definitely use some more physical activity in my life, hadn't taken an actual vacation since I don't quite remember when and was ready for the challenge of learning something new. Several years ago --OK, about two decades ago --I went downhill skiing a few times and vaguely remember being cold but generally having fun. But that was basically all I remembered.
As February drew closer, I had my doubts. Was I really in good enough physical shape for a week of skiing? Could I even ski? I found myself worrying that I'd spend more time in the snow trying to get up after falling than actually skiing as intended. And I worried that I wouldn't be able to keep myself warm enough - even with the proper clothing. But I went, and am beyond glad that I did! Many times during the week in Utah, I was very impressed and moved by how willing all the SFL folks were to work together, teach each other and share --among so many other things. Since I tend to be a bit cynical, meeting so many wonderful people was refreshing and uplifting and is something I think about frequently.
A few weeks after I returned home from Utah, there was an unexpected staffing change at work. I work as a Blind Services Advocate at a Center for Independent Living in Evanston, Illinois. I was suddenly not only teaching an entire ten week class on the legislative process, but also organizing and running an accompanying four day trip to Springfield (the state capital) for sixteen people with roughly two weeks before we were due to leave and no reservations made for transportation, lodging, meals or legislative visits. I've never done anything close to this, especially organizing and running an entire trip. After I got over my initial panic and started making all the arrangements for the trip, I kept catching myself thinking that I'd be completely thrilled if this Springfield trip turned out to be only half as well planned and run as the SFL week. When I came to Utah, I really wasn't sure I could ski but with some excellent instruction (thanks Bob Sarver) I did, and, so I kept telling myself I could plan, organize and lead the Springfield trip too. Ultimately, the trip was successful --along the way, we found out that one of the senators we met with used to guide blind skiers.
The after-effects didn't stop there. Recently, during a small family gathering, a family friend mentioned that she was going to be taking part in an event called "Mud Warriors." We, of course, all asked for an explanation. Essentially, it turned out to be a 5k run for charity with the added dimension of being run on a course containing various obstacles randomly scattered along the way. Before I realized it, I found myself saying that sounded like fun, and then reasoning that I'd skied 5k and initially wasn't the least bit sure I could do that, so why not try this? There it was --something I'd never have said, much less ever seriously thought I would want to or could actually do, before participating in Ski for Light. You just never know (at least I never knew) what you might get in your head to decide to try after returning home from SFL.
Thank you Ski for Light!
And first-timer Heather Berg has some emphatic thoughts on what Ski for Light has given her – even before she arrived in Provo this past February.
I fully credit my first ever SFL International event in 2012 with turning my life around. I had always been an active person dabbling in various activities such as sailing, running, hiking, tandem biking, dance and paddling. However, I had been withdrawing from recreational and social activities for some time. Then in September 2011, while recovering from surgery, I decided to set a small goal. I wanted to be able to raise money and participate in a short walk-a-thon for a local charity, the Vermont Association for the Blind and Visually Impaired. During the 2-mile walk, I met veteran SFL guide Frank Gibney, of the Gibney Family Foundation, who repeatedly and emphatically encouraged me to apply for the 2012 SFL International Week. So I submitted my application and was accepted as a first time skier.
For the first time in far too long I found myself seeking to improve my fitness and overall health. I gradually resumed some light walk/run workouts, spinning classes and lifting weights. By February I had dropped 15 pounds and was feeling better. However, I was still not fully prepared for the profound impact being at SFL would have on my life. After spending a whole week skiing and socializing with like-minded folks, my spirits were lifted higher than I could ever have imagined. SFL provided many opportunities to expand and push the boundaries of my body, mind and spirit.
Upon returning home, I crashed hard from the SFL high. I found it difficult to articulate to friends and family just how profound the experience had been. So I decided to start seeking out more of those body, mind and spirit expanding opportunities. I participated in a New England Regional SFL weekend trip to New Hampshire, which was equally rewarding. I joined NENSA, New England Nordic Ski Association's adaptive ski program, and spent a couple weekends skiing and racing in Vermont and New Hampshire. Oh and the best part, I bought new skis.
Unfortunately the snow melted early in Vermont this year and I struggled to recapture the freedom and independence I felt while skiing. Then I joined a local running group and began training for a half marathon. For me, running unleashed some of the same feelings and emotions as skiing. I'm hooked!