Moments

Sometimes, one second can seem like a lot. One second is about as much as it takes to blink with your eyes. What, then, is one hundredth of a second? Is it possible even to describe? For me, it was one hundredth of a second that completely changed my life.

In 1998, in Mammoth Mountain, I won my first World Cup race. I was only 17 years old and I think that up until then, I had never been that terrified (in a nice way of course) before. It was then that I took the step from being a promising young skier to suddenly being a skier at the very top of the world elite. Journalists from around the world, managers and sponsors suddenly appeared out of nowhere. At that particular time, it was incredibly nice to have a family that could manage the chaos and give me a foothold on the earth that suddenly had started to move very fast. This moment in time was the starting point for a series of amazing events in my life, some of them I will share with you right now.

The snow was sparkling like diamonds, the sun was shining and you could barely feel the warmth from the sun-rays on your clothes. The air temperature was 24 degrees below zero so you could really feel mother nature against your cheeks. To my left, I could see the peaceful mountains completely covered in snow and in front of me an adventure was awaiting. As our snowmobiles took of into the wilderness I felt completely at peace with myself. Our goal was, like many times before, the hidden peaceful mountain lakes where the promise of reward in the form of swedish mountain trout awaited us. Surrounded by my family and relatives, all gathered around a fire telling stories and enjoying nature.

As you can tell, spending time in nature with snowmobiles has always been a big part of my life. This is perhaps one of the reasons to why I chose to return to that setting at the time in my career when I experienced the most pressure – during the world championships in Åre, Sweden. The downhill race was to be decided in the near future, and the commotion in Åre was alarming. I had been thinking about this particular race for a very long time, the world championships in Sweden 2007. Everything was perfect, you know, so perfect that you almost can't believe it. I had been really fast in practice, the line in the downhill felt perfect, almost as if it had been designed just for me. Now, it all came down to me having the courage to just do it, to dare to follow the line and make a dream come true.

When I went down to the start of the downhill race I had a big lump in my stomach. I was so nervous that I couldn't breathe properly. The pressure at the start of the race was physical, it vibrated in the air. Everything felt small and I desperately needed to get air. Then, all of a sudden, I saw a snowmobile in the far distance. When I think back on this moment, I realize that it was a defining moment. The image of the snowmobile made me able to grasp hold of what was truly real, to connect back to what makes me at peace. What happened far down there on the shore of Åresjön was just a circus, a world where everything could be changed in a split second. The mountains, snowmobiles and my upbringing in nature was and is real. My childhood carved in stone in the mountains. My strength.

I don't remember much of the actual race itself. I know that I was in trouble and missed the perfect line a few times and I knew that I was skiing on the edge. But the feeling when i crossed the finish line and the look of thousands of hands stretched in the air and the sound of the crowd roaring is something I will take with me throughout my life. I could feel my lunges filling with air, it was almost as if I was floating, all the pain vanished when the adrenaline rushed through my body. The first thought I had was that I had succeeded and I was overwhelmed with the feeling to be able to give back to my team. Give us the victory we had fought for, for such a long time.

I had proved that it is possible to grow up in a small village in the north of Sweden, with a ski slope mainly suited for slalom and succeed in winning a world championship in downhill skiing. What I experienced during two weeks in Åre, I will carry with me for the rest of my life. The joy and warmth that everyone gave me. The support from the audience was simply magnificent. The feeling of standing on the town square, singing the national anthem together and watching all the blue and yellow flags in the air. I was and am proud to be swedish.

Thank you to everyone who gave me a world championship I could only dream about. You, the audience, gave me my greatest moment.

Sincerely,
Anja