“Ups and downs, highs and lows.” These terms are so often used by athletes when reflecting on a season. It’s the nature of sport, but for me this season has already presented a new kind of speed bump that I certainly won’t forget any time soon. I have debated about whether to share the details of it here, but since the goal of this blog is to provide some deeper insight into my journey as an athlete, I feel it’s an important piece to include. So let me begin on December 26th, 2024, the first downhill training day on the Stelvio track in Bormio.
The first course inspection in Bormio is always a wakeup call after enjoying some chill days over Christmas. The slope is always expected to be icy and gnarly, but this year there was the added difficulty of inconsistent and changing conditions from top to bottom. Some turns were crumbly, some slick and icy, then dry and grippy on the last pitch which had not been injected at all. This became a matter of strong debate later following a number of crashes and injuries, but we all expect Bormio to be a rough ride no matter what, so I found myself simply analyzing and planning for the changing snow conditions as I inspected. In the end, my first training run only took me about 35 seconds into the course before I found myself sliding face-first into the A-net at 97km/h. At this point in the course, there’s a long and shallow right-footed turn into a sharp drop at the end. It’s always a bit tricky as you need to essentially switch edges in mid-air as you go off the roll, and land in a banked compression as you roll onto the left ski into the next turn. I accidentally went off the roll a little bit too straight with my weight slightly on my heels, launching me a little deeper into the compression than planned. I got squashed down on my heels as I landed, then felt my skis hook up and launch me into the air. I felt the sudden pop of my airbag inflating around my torso just before I hit the ground on my left side, sliding towards the wall of red A-net. I was heading for it face-first, and threw my hands forward at the last second before hitting it. I may have paid for that instinctual move as my right hand hit the net in just the right spot to smash into my nose as the rest of my body impacted. I bounced out of the net and slid to a stop, taking quick inventory of my limbs and finding thankfully that everything seemed to be intact. My nose began to gush blood after the self-inflicted punch, but my first thought was “shit, I might not be racing this weekend”.
After a quick assessment with the nearest course medical staff, I decided I was fine to ski down to the finish to meet our team doctor. The afternoon was a hectic one as I went through the necessary concussion assessment protocol, a physio exam, received four stitches in my nose, and got a few X-rays to rule out any fractures in some of my sore body parts. I decided it would be best to take the next day off before making any decisions about the rest of the race week, but little did I know there was another twist coming in the story.
We arrived in Vancouver and went straight to the hospital, which is luckily only five minutes from our house. It turned out my dad had contracted pneumonia and had a bunch of fluid in his left lung. The doctors were able to extract much of it, but he was still struggling to breathe without the constant use of a BiPAP machine. We had all witnessed the inevitable toll of ALS over the last decade, yet it was still shocking to see how quickly things had changed since I was last home. He was weak, but one thing quickly became apparent: he was not done fighting. The fluid returned a second time in his lung, and was again removed by the doctors. Gradually, he began to breathe without the BiPAP for small parts of the day and eventually weened off it entirely over the course of a week. He was determined to get home again, and also made it clear that Riley and I should return to Europe as originally planned to continue our season. Relieved to see that he was stable again, we felt we could once again turn our focus to the next races.
We returned to Europe for a short training block in Hinterreit, Austria, ahead of the Wengen World Cup week. It was the perfect place to build back up to speed and make sure my body was feeling alright after my crash. The track in Wengen this year was a dream; the course conditions were pristine and it looked like we were in for a bluebird week. Our team has often struggled a little bit when rolling right off the plane into Wengen, but this year we had some time to adjust to the jet lag and log some great training days ahead of it. I’ve always found the Lauberhorn track to be difficult because of the many long gliding sections — which are not my strong suit — but this time I felt like I was able to find some more flow. The Super G race day was a long one starting with bib 50. The track was baking in the sun and so was I during a long course hold for a crash, but I was determined to show I could still punch in to a good result. Perhaps I was a bit too eager, and as I rolled onto my edge in a big turn half way down the course I felt my inside boot hit the snow and send me down on my hip. I popped back up onto my feet immediately, but I was already out of the course. It was a small mistake I knew there was no sense hanging on to, but of course I was angry that I had blown my chance. The race was over, so I did my best to turn that frustration into motivation for the next day.
I managed to finish 26th in the downhill, not the result I had hoped for, but my first time scoring points in the Wengen downhill nevertheless. That was one of many positives to take forward, but I also couldn’t help but feel like I had left a little on the table. I know it wasn’t my best skiing, but it wasn’t too far off. Next up is the legendary Kitzbuhel week, where I know it’s all about trusting your ability and sending it. It’s a special place to me, having scored my first World Cup points here in 2019, and the first since my knee injury last year as well. Now it’s time to carry those positives from Wengen into this week, and to see what’s possible.
As always, leave a commet below if you’d like to know more.
Cheers,
Brodie
P.S. I want to say a huge thanks to the wonderful people who dropped everything and came together to support my family in a time of need. You know who you are, and we love you.
Hi Brodie,
I have so enjoyed following you and Riley, as you ski World Cup. You both are awesome athletes!! And I wiah you both the best of luck as your season continues.
I have not met you Brodie, but I know Riley quite well!! I was able to spend a few hours with your mom and dad and you pup Leroy in Vancouver last year. You and Riley have been blessed with with the most loving and supportive parents. Your dad is an inspiration for all who are fortunate to meet him or know him. I will always remember that special visit.💕 I was so happy to know he is able to be home again.
I will be thinking of you and Riley as you continue to ski the slopes of Europe. And I will also be holding the best of thoughts for your mom and dad.
Take good care. ( I tell Riley to always ski in control!!😂)
Your blog is wonderful.