Skiing
Get the inside story of Sofia Goggia's St Moritz victory
There was much more to the Italian skier's win than that 100th-of-a-second margin. Read Sofia's thoughts and emotions from the St Moritz leg of the World Cup in her own words.
Having set my American break aside, I returned home for a few days, which was just enough time to get used to Italian time again and see loved ones after a month’s absence.
But St Moritz was awaiting me, a new leg, and a brand-new challenge. In addition to Saturday’s SuperG, on Sunday I was competing in my first parallel slalom. It’s something I’ve worked so hard towards in recent months not only as it was my debut in the discipline, but also to prepare myself technically.
What’s there to say? The SuperG was a great race and you already know how it went. But I want to tell you about something else, about how I experienced that day, what – in my opinion – contributed to such a valuable achievement.
Related
It all started on Friday afternoon. Accompanying us on some legs of the World Cup is a Protestant priest named Father Jorg, who always celebrates mass with us before races. That day, we’d all agreed to do it at 6.45pm and, on that occasion, he told us, “always carry joy inside you, regardless of the result”.
For us athletes, that’s not easy to do in a race. Those who participate know very well that cockiness and rage can lead to swearing or rude gestures but, despite everything, hearing his words gave me much comfort, a little like when I go to see my dear Don Fabio at the Duomo in Bergamo.
So, on Saturday I woke up happy, partly because of those words, partly because I knew that Nicola, my first ski instructor who’d trained me for 10 years when I was small, was coming to see me.
With Father Jorg
© Sofia Goggia
He’s a person I hold very dear and who, for better or worse, has had a great influence on me – almost as much as my father, given the amount of time that we’ve spent together. I was truly excited at the thought of seeing him, of being able to share a piste, and knowing that he was there for me despite the fact that it had been years since we’d been out on the snow together.
It filled me with joy. I met him randomly at the back of the ski lift and I asked him to do a warm-up ride with me. We had with us Mamo, my neighbour and Diego, a young man who trained with me and Nicola and is now a ski instructor in St Moritz.
There was a particular energy during that ski-lift ride in their company – their embraces and their presence made me jump back in time because I felt connected to people I’d known forever. I was truly happy to be there with them, and with Nicola in particular.
Sofia Goggia
© Sofia Goggia via Facebook
But I had the real epiphany when I saw them shoot down an empty piste leading to the arrival zone, getting increasingly narrow: there they were skiing, connecting the turns, in full harmony, and that image took me back to times gone by, to my childhood training sessions.
That flare, capable of heating my heart despite the Swiss cold, helped me understand how certain things manage to stay unchanged and resist the inexorable passing of time.
I also sped down towards them and, with my SuperG skis, I overtook them, but it felt like bursting a space-time bubble: at that precise instant, I was reminded of past moments spent together on the pistes and roads of Foppolo, and those unforgettable Sundays at my first ski club, Clan2.
It doesn’t matter that I won with only one 100th of a second to spare, sometimes it’s the smallest things that make the difference
Overtaking them, it felt like I’d gone in and out of my own past but when I realised that they were with me in the present for my World Cup race, a bitter-sweet nostalgia transformed into one of uncontainable joy.
That was the most beautiful moment of the Saturday, more so than the result itself. This realisation touched me on the inside and made me feel free. Being free is my main requirement for becoming everything that I want to be and expressing myself to the best of my potential.
When I went to ski down that piste for real, it didn’t go completely to plan – I lost a pole and my coach pointed out technical imperfections in my skiing. But it doesn’t matter that I won with only one 100th of a second to spare, sometimes it’s the smallest things that make the difference.
At the leader’s corner, I was really agitated because I wanted to see Nicola and give him a huge hug but, since he didn’t have a pass, he couldn’t come in. I only saw him when I went up onto the podium. I asked the technical director to let him in, and soon after the start of the Italian national anthem I saw him there, in the crowd, among the photographers and journalists and, in that moment, I barely managed to hold back the tears, the emotion was too strong.
Because I had the whole journey we’d taken together right in front of me: the sweat, the fatigue, the tears, the sacrifices, the snowplough, the first turns together, all contained in a simple, magical look of understanding, and his nod, looking at me, full of pride. It was the perfect conclusion to a truly magnificent day.
The next day it was parallel slalom. I managed to qualify in 30th out of 64 (only the first 32 go through) but then in the second run a German skier beat me. But it was a useful and formative experience because, as well as having understood how fun and intense parallel slalom is, it made me understand how important it is to have a direct contest with an opponent.
It unleashed the wild beast inside of me, disconnecting my brain…
It unleashed the wild beast inside of me, disconnecting my brain and made me think only and exclusively of going down hell-for-leather. In the second round the opposite happened – I had the advantage but, at the very end, I couldn’t push myself as much as the previous race and, taking my foot off the gas, let myself be overtaken just before the finish line and losing by just two 100ths of a second.
Having a ‘ghost’ appear right in front of you pushes you to do better regardless of the context, whether it be a race or another challenge you face in your life, because it helps you to bring the best out of yourself. The skill lies in finding that motivation all the time, even when you’re not facing a scary prospect. Generally speaking, the best motivation is the fire that burns inside of you.
A truly important lesson, no doubt. But in any case I can say quite plainly that I’ve redeemed myself after that Canadian weekend. Now is the time to think about the next step, Courchevel, to where I’m travelling as I write this (I need to occupy the seven hours of travel time somehow, right?!).
But I want to conclude with an image. After the parallel slalom we went down across a small road in the middle of the trees, with our slalom skis on our backs. The sun was almost on the horizon, right in front of us, and with the snow on that road it was so beautiful. There wasn’t a soul there and you could breathe with a rare and precious peace.
The sensations were emphasised by my calm and peaceful mood, because when you face life with hope in your heart, everything seems more colourful and you manage to find a new meaning in everything. Sometimes even a small hidden road can lead to the next challenge, to the next opportunity to grow and become a better person.
See you on Saturday for the downhill and then combined at Val d’Isère, and, as Nicola said to me on Saturday evening: “be humble, focused and attentive to every detail”.
Sofi
