The path to glory is treacherous. It's littered with trees and spectators who can't decide whether they'd rather see success or carnage. The snow packed trail beckons you forward. Few have tried and even fewer have succeeded to sled this path in its entirety. You grip the handles of your flexible flyer, visualizing the turns ahead, the leaning and foot drag needed to avoid total calamity.
One last check. Boots tied, gloves on, jacket zipped. Finally you pull the beanie over your ears ushering in a warm silence blocking out the distraction of the crowd.
One deep breath and you're off.