Olympic Conquest

Cory - The Mountain, My Enemy

My run times hardly improve and the weather pummels my body. I ache all over. My head throbs. This practice has been a disaster. I am in the worst shape of my career.

Once we're back at the condo, Dave makes me a protein shake while I soak in a hot bath. He's scheduled a masseuse to come by in about an hour. Afterward, he wants to watch the video of my practice runs. I lean back, close my eyes, and play the course through my head. I try to visualize every turn, every flat, bump and moment of air. Through one of the tight turns, I imagine my ski catching an edge and I lose control.

Even my visualizations are messed up. I wonder why I'm here. I'm in no condition to be competing as an Olympian right now. I'm not focused. I admit I'm partying too much. Before, I wouldn't even consider drinking a drop of alcohol during competition but it's all I think about these days. My coaches want the old Cory. The one who trained 24/7 and gave the mountain his heart and soul.

Instead they've got the new Cory – the one whose workouts went from eight hours a day to a few hours every other day. Instead of figuring out the best way down the mountain, I focus on the fastest. My form has cracked and I don't know how to get it back in time for the race.

It would be impossible to drop out now. I couldn't abandon my teammates or my coaches or my country. And I'm still the best on the team even in my shitty condition. But my mind and my heart just aren't in it anymore. Skiing has been my life for so long. I don't even know who I am without it. But these days, I find it torturous.

Mom and dad told me they want me to quit. They would rather I find a career that doesn't involve a death wish on a daily basis. I wasn't surprised when they told me they couldn't come to the Olympics this time. They blamed it on finances but I know that it's really because they don't want to watch another son die on the slopes. I understand. The mountain has become my enemy too. I hope someday we can be friends again.

"Cory, the masseuse is here."

"I'll be right out." I lift myself up out of the now lukewarm bath and grab a towel to dry off. I look at myself in the mirror. I don't recognize the guy looking back at me. My eyes are bloodshot and my cheeks are hollow. I'm in my mid-twenties and I'm looking like I'm forty-five.

I leave the bathroom and find the masseuse setting up in the living room.

"Cory, this is Michelle. She's going to give you a complete rub down. I have to run out for a quick meeting with Jeremy. I'll be back to make dinner." He rushes out the door.

"Okay," I say. I lie down naked on Michelle's table. She starts by massaging my shoulders.

"Is there anywhere that is particularly bothering you?" she asks. Her hands are really digging into my muscles. It's both pleasurable and painful. I tell her that my legs could use a little extra attention. I had a few cramps in my calves and my right knee is sore from twisting it during one of the runs.

I quickly relax and fall in and out of sleep. About an hour into the massage, I feel Michelle's hands near my mid-section. She keeps massaging further south, all around my hips and inner thighs. She then gets up on the table and on top of me. She unbuttons her shirt.

"I don't normally do this but you have an amazing body and you seem willing." I feel her hands exploring my body, which is responding accordingly.

I kiss her and she quickly sheds her clothes. We make out feverishly. She has an incredible body herself, firm with small, perky breasts.

She pulls out a condom from her bag and tears it open. She goes to put it on me and I suddenly grab her hand. I stop her from going further. My mind is not telling my hand to do this. It's a complete reflex. Could it be my heart telling me something?

She looks at me. "What's going on? I only do it with a condom. And so should you."

I sit up. "I can't do this. I'm sorry. It's not you."

I get off the table. It's suddenly very awkward. "I'll just go to my room so you can dress in private. Thank you for the massage. I feel much better now."

I head to my room and collapse on the bed. I hear Michelle pack up her things and let herself out.

I run my hands through my hair in exasperation. I have no clue what just happened. I was completely turned on and then wham, my entire body just shut down.

On my side table, I see the note from earlier in the day with Lainey's cell phone on it. I grab it and pick up my phone. I write, Just testing to see if this works or if you gave me a fake number, and I hit send.

My phone buzzes almost immediately back: It works! How was practice today? The weather looked harsh.

I lean back in bed – a rush of warm feelings washes over me. I quickly respond: Practice was horrible. Would love to tell you about it. Dinner?

She writes back, Sure, why don't you come over to our hotel? We're just outside the Village. My mom is making dinner now. Vegetable lasagna.

That sounds great. I'll be right over, I text.

I jump up and throw on some jeans and a sweater.I write a note for Dave and I head out to see Lainey. Right now, a woman Idon't really know is the only thing that makes sense to me.