The first thing I remember is skiing fast down a slope, but it was without skis– just sliding down on the boots.  With the lack of proper edges I found it a challenge to make a sharp turn, but fortunately was able to keep it on the trail.  I got to the bottom and was suddenly in the lodge.  My high school ski-team peer, Haji, said something about me starting as our sixth seed in the race.  The implication was that he would be first, then there would be four more between himself and me.  I looked over to the right and saw one of the people he implied would be going in between us, who just appeared to be an androgenous person I was not familiar with.  I thought back to my results history, remembering prior races where I had started from fifth or sixth and ended up around 20th (of 60 racers– starting in the last six and finishing in the top third– not bad!), so I surmised that our team would perform quite well at the state championship.  So long as our first seed had a legitimate chance of winning, skiers two through five were objectively better than me, and I could ‘punch above my weight’, so to say, then we would be quite competitive.

Suddenly someone asked me about my car, so I pointed outside the lodge window to the parking lot at the purple Porsche Cayenne.  There was a bit of an envious response, like “No wayyyy… you gotta Porsche?”  I explained that it belonged to my dad.  I grabbed the key and we went outside, where I invited them to check it out.  I popped the trunk and handed the guy the key so he could sit in it.

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