Every story starts somewhere, right?
The line itself is bent.
This story, I thought, began on Bleury street, under the marquee of the Cinema Imperial.
It makes sense that a story about a story also includes Sherpas.
The real beginning is less tangible.
It goes something like: I really like skiing.
From this position, I can’t foresee any better outcome in this life than a career in skiing.
I am not ever going to be a professional skier.
I want to be like a professional skier.
I need to figure out a way to do that.
From that first encounter with Bishop, the story the one I’m telling you now speeds up.
So the story arrives here, in this spot we’re at now.
You’ve felt it before too.
The question is how far are you willing to take it?
This isn’t some fucking farewell.
If you’ve got a bright idea, fucking actualize it!
If you’re waiting to write your story, grab hold of a thread and run with it.
You cannot know where it will take you.
