Coming Back: More Lessons on Turning Setbacks into Comebacks

You might have thought I was Lindsey Vonn crossing the finish line, returning to World Cup racing after a six-year hiatus, the way I pumped my fists in celebration. However, you wouldn’t have mistaken anything else about my run. My goal in my first race back after nearly two years of recovery from an ACL injury, reconstruction, rehab, and countless hours of training wasn’t about setting a blazing-fast time (it wasn’t). My goal was to know I could do it and to lay the foundation for everything that would come next.

Beneath the grips of my ski poles, I’d written Courage and Gratitude. Those two words encapsulate the countless lessons and bits of inspiration that guided me through the long journey back to this moment.

 

 

Courage

For me, courage isn’t about blindly mustering my inner Viking or pretending I don’t feel the fear. It’s acknowledging the anxiety I feel whenever I’m about to cross the threshold of something new, whether stepping onto a stage to deliver a keynote speech, drafting an outline for my next book, or, as I was now, standing at the starting gate again after almost two years.

Courage doesn’t happen by accident. Not for me, anyway. It’s the hard-won, embodied feeling that comes only after months of rigorous preparation, years of experience, and a conscious intention to keep moving forward, even through setbacks. When I first injured my knee, I could only focus on the immediate and most urgent needs, not the long road of post-surgery rehab and rebuilding. Today, with that foundation of preparation giving me confidence, I can embrace the anxiety that often accompanies the unknown, especially when the stakes are high.

I’d worry if I didn’t feel at least some anxiety in the start gate. Because even though I’ve trained my body, studied the course, and mentally rehearsed, I know that, on the mountain, anything can happen. Even when racing on a course I’ve seen before, the conditions are never the same. The snow may have changed, there may be new ruts, the wind might be stronger, or the clouds might have flattened the light. And yet, along with the adrenaline-pumping anxiety, I can muster confidence in my ability to adapt.

As I positioned my poles over the timing wand, my 76-year-old racing friend Lydia taught me to say, “I can do this!”

 

Gratitude

I wrote Gratitude on my other ski pole as a constant reminder to slow down and take a moment to appreciate everything around me and be in the present moment. After all, if I’m fortunate enough to read that reminder on the mountain, I already have so much to be grateful for.

The fact that I’m healthy enough to race again is a gift. At least for today, I also have the time, resources, and community to support me

and share the day with—those are privileges I don’t take lightly. And when my body feels tired or distracted by self-centered worries, I tap another of Lydia’s wise lessons: Simply pause and, “Look at where we are!”

Her coaching passed on to her from one of her ski coaches, is a reminder in the midst of inspecting the course, thinking about strategy, trying to remember what I worked on in my last training session, to stop, look up, and take it all in, and “take your energy from the mountain.”

With courage and gratitude in mind, I’m ready in the start. The countdown begins, all distractions fade away, and I claim Lydia’s words as my own: “I can do this.”

And in that instant, I believe it.

 

The Comeback Never Ends

While I have much to work on and several seconds to cut from my finish time, what matters is that I am back and racing again. Back in this fantastic community of engaged and energetic athletes of all ages and backgrounds, back in my healthy body, and back in these vast, wild mountains.

I’ve set many goals and milestones to motivate and remind myself that I am progressing, even if I don’t always see it on any specific day. At the same time, I’ve let go of any ultimate goal because there will always be more to work on and countless large and small setbacks and comebacks ahead.

With my more experienced and wise friends as inspiration and with gratitude and a bit of courage, I’m coming back.