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Reality Check by Kristen Ulmer - added July 12, 2006
"So, what do you do for a living?" the friendly, young mother of two
next to me asks. We're sitting together on a plane to Vancouver, and I
hesitate. Should I tell her? It's the coolest job in the world, but an
overt brag.
Ah hell. "I'm a professional stunt skier" I say with pride, then add
with a puffy chest "on my way to Canada to film a movie."
"Oh" her eyes brighten, "What kind of movie?"
I open my mouth to tell her "It's an all-women flick", but quickly snap
it shut. An alarming thought hits me, I'm embarrassed because this trip
involves an all-woman project. Actually, my heart jerks, I'm embarrassed
to be a woman athlete period. Rather than consider us heroes, I believe
the world will still think "Here are the best female skiers and
snowboarders in the world almost killing themselves trying to perform
like men, but expect a lot of girly squeals and flamboyant crashes". How
nauseating.
So I lie. Putting on my best tough-girl voice, I say "It's a snow cult
video about the best free-riding male skiers and snowboarders in the
world, I'm the only woman involved", which is my usual job, then quickly
ask to see photos of her kids.
This story is about a hard-core woman athlete finally coming to grips
with being female. After refusing this lesson for ten years, it's about
time I got spanked out of my ignorance.
The extreme sports world I live in is quite demented. Those athletes
who hang their necks out the farthest and still manage to come home
alive or uninjured day after day, get the most sponsorship money, film
jobs, and publicity. It's a completely gender-free game, women play hard
too, although the numbers are lacking. In skiing and snowboarding, for
every 30 guys willing to ski steep you-fall-you-die descents or jump 50
foot cliffs daily, there's only one woman. The international snow scene
has perhaps a dozen truly significant female athletes, and another
hundred hoping to make it to the same level. These women rarely judge
their skill or look for acceptance amongst each other, but rather from
their male peers and role models.
I'm one of them, and I ski with men. I've struggled my whole life to
thrown flips or tear through steep trees at breakneck speed, because
that's what it takes to ski like a man, to satiate my own internal
drive, and to be taken seriously. In order to survive these rushes, we
need something to make us feel powerful and manly. Julie, a pro
snowboarder, chews tobacco. Darian swears like a truck driver. I've
never worn makeup and feel ready to kick some redneck ass should the
opportunity arise.
So why make some pansy women's movie? It goes against anything I've
ever worked for. And I know it won't measure up to the crazy men's
movies, it'll be boring and we'll all look like fools. There just
aren't enough women willing to go big yet.
Fortunately though, an industry friend pressured me into it. "It'll be
good for your career outside of the ski world" he argued.
So I flew to Canada to meet director Christian Begin and two worthy
"colleagues" for a glamorous one week heli trip and stay at the Delta
Suites Hotel in Whistler, complaining and embarrassed all the way.
Wendy Fisher and Alison Gannet are top shelf pro skiers, but they don't
chew tobacco, fart out loud OR scratch their balls. Standing above our
first couloir ready to shoot, I ask with concern "Are you guys psyched
to be here?"
Alison practically explodes. "This is gonna be GREAT! I'm so sick of
getting one minute in the men's movies, and only because they need a
token girl. Finally WE get to be the stars and not the side show".
Wendy was tired of being the only girl on a string of all-men's road
trips. "I see what the guys are doing and want to be there. But it's by
watching the other women and seeing what they can do that pushes me the
most". "Plus" she adds quietly, "we miss out on a lot of cool stuff if
we don't hang out with other girls".
Stuff? Huh. Like shopping, talking about sex, or allowing ourselves to
complain about the cold I guess. Wendy is sweet and girlish in a shy,
childlike way. Alison skis in lipstick and a pink flowered hat. She
loves to dress sexy and has a beautiful ornamental tattoo swirling down
one side of her torso. Their female energy was infectious, but I
couldn't relate to Wendy's woman power theory. Far too often, women
athletes still act scared and wimpy.
Three, two, one... comes over the radio, GO! Wendy pushes off and rockets
into a steep, skinny chute, destroying it in less than 5 turns at over
50 miles per hour. Not bad... for a girl. I can hear Christian at the
bottom yelling at Wendy "Dat was amazing!" over and over in his thick
French Canadian accent.
He is making this movie "because de woman are ripping so 'ard now, and I
want to give dem the spotlight togedeur as a family."
But how hard are we ripping, really? Our world has always been unisex,
so it's confusing to form any solid opinions. Plus the media doesn't
have a clue what questions to ask women who take risks ("So, uhm, do you
have a boyfriend?"). Warren Miller ski movies still feature pretty girls
with long flowing hair and expensive one piece suits skiing in slow
motion on mellow groomed runs. And some horribly naive weekend-warrior
men still believe they can out-ski the pro women.
One thing's for sure, Wendy tore that line apart, as good as any top pro
man. But it wasn't death defying and the shot won't take an audience's
breath away. Nor is the couloir I plan to ski all that exciting, unless
I tuck the whole thing and practically kill myself, that'll get a few
"wow's." I take a deep breath. We crave respect. What's it gonna take
to blow apart some old stereotypes?
I was never athletic as a child. My parents, my male peers, and sure as
hell not society, nobody ever encouraged me. Yet my whole adult life
has been about taking huge risks and sticking my neck out farther and
farther to achieve an almost unattainable goal; to prove that women can
ski or jump the wild lines as fast and hard as the men. But they've
been doing sports for thousands of years. We've been at it for maybe 25
years. And what do I have to show for my obsession? Many terrifying
moments where I thought this is it, I'm dead, six knee surgeries,
hundreds of potential sponsors saying no, a lot of self criticism, some
really mind boggling experiences and one hell of a resilient ego.
And now it all comes down to this moment. Here we are, representing the
new breed of hot women athlete. If we flail, evolution might come
screaming to halt right here, right now. Groan. What if I cartwheel the
whole length of this couloir?
Screw that. Okay world, open your eyes. I'm kicking ass here. Title 9 is
force-fed crap, all we need is passion and drive. I refuse to devote my
precious life to how my butt looks in these pants, or obtaining dewy
soft skin or buying big hair bows. How utterly boring. This is my
self-expression. This is my burn.
Three, two, one... GO.
What a crazy week. In that first chute, on my third turn all the snow
tumbled away and I was stranded, having to pick down an exposed 50
degree slope of jagged rock. The last day I maytagged violently in an
avalanche for 500 feet.
Jumping a 40 foot cliff feels like hovering above razor blades with
your fingers on control, alt and whoa! almost delete, then swooshing
away in the powder completely unharmed. Or skiing waaay too fast,
feeling about to explode at any second; that's better than all the
chicken soup in mama's kitchen. The danger of a film job is precious, I
want more. So I agree to another heli week at the scrumptious Alyeska
Prince Hotel in Alaska, this time with fellow star-let Kim Reichelm.
For ten years Kim and I have been competitors in the same industry, but
we've never skied together. Imagine Martina and Monica not once swinging
rackets in the same pit. Kinda weird.
Nor had we talked much. Kim runs women-only ski clinics and devotes her
career to helping women overcome fear and believe in their dreams. She
considers "you ski well, for a girl," a compliment. Obviously, our
fingernails run down completely different chalkboards.
The snow falls too hard this week to film, so instead we bond. One
night while eating dinner together at a town bar and watching Tommy Moe
bend over a pool table in his tight long underwear, I cautiously
approach my concerns; "Are you excited to be in this movie?"
Dehydrated but content, Kim bursts out a big, assertive "YES!" "To me"
she continues, "women's skiing is not about the raddest line or the
biggest air, it's the beauty and fluidity of the run," She pauses while
Tommy takes a shot. Two massive cinder blocks on top of a couple of
trees point in our direction. "The general public doesn't understand the
speed or danger of those lines in the men's ski movies. I want to get
respect for my individual style, I want to feel good about what I do."
Kim's so healthy and intelligent, she makes me feel like a freak in
comparison. Never one to neglect a subject, she continues throwing
opinions out like the most popular and bewitching girl on the
playground; This time is crucial now to show the evolution of women's
sports. Imagine what kind of influence we can have on young girls. Blah,
blah. Then she remarks "I just can't believe a man would take the time
to promote us."
My eyes jerk away from Tommy. How true! At best, our male peers are
usually tolerant yet still condescending. The next day I confront
Christian in his room "Why spend so much energy on women athletes?" I
interrupt, expecting another simple answer; "Because women rip" or "This
is the only way I can get a date." He holds the first slice of a large
delivery pizza and probably wants to eat.
"One minute in de men's movies don't do women justice." Christian
explodes, chewing wildly. How silly to expect a sip of water from a fire
hydrant. "I want to see what's in de women's head and who's 'anging it
out dere in de sport. Some of dem are skiing at such a 'igh level, and I
want to be truthful to dat."
"But Christian" I say defensively, "Sure the women are skiing great, but
the top men still take more risks and are more exciting to watch."
"What? I don't want to compare de two, but just show de woman for what
dey are, doing it deir own way."
He stops eating his slice and uses it to point instead. Over the next
half hour, this man teaches me more about my gender than I've learned
after living the experience 31 years. "I'm not making a ski and
snowboard mov-ie, I'm making a film about women" he gestures. A disk of
pepperoni pitches to my feet. It's not about the brainless pursuit of
the sickest lines, he explains. Woman athletes are fascinating as
people, especially those uniquely involved in non-traditional water and
mountain extreme sports. We have a passion and value system that is
extraordinarily inspiring. We live crazy and take huge risks, which is
goes against our nature, but do it very, very well.
"You ask an extreme guy what he thought of 'is trip to Alaska, 'e'll say
'It was rad, dude.' Who gives a sheet about dat!" Christian sprays.
"Interviews from women are so beautiful, wit honest, personal t'oughts
about extreme risk and challenge." He intends to make his film a work of
art, because after all, that's what women are.
The cheese on Christian's slice has long since turned waxy and stiff. I
leave and slowly walk the hallway toward a window and look outside. The
snow comes down hard and cold.
This women-in-sports issue invokes so much passion for so many people.
And every thing they say makes sense. Alison ranted "Sports changed me
from a fat, insecure kid into a confident, strong woman with passion and
a plan. This took away all the years of people saying 'you can't'." Kim
wanted to share her passion for skiing with girls. There's a million
daughters out there who've learned all they can from Malibu Barbie. If
only someone would show them the way, imagine how better prepared for
life they'll be through sports. Christian had pointed his forgotten
pizza at me and claimed "If I can reach the mama who's sitting on de bed
with a drunk 'usband, and get her to t'ink 'I'm sick of dis sheet... I'm
going skiing', it'll be worth it."
How right they are. My life has been so ego-driven, frustrating and
unnatural. I always thought being a woman, and therefore caring,
sensitive, and thoughtful; meant being less of an athlete, less of an
equal. But women's sports are not about being equal, or killing
ourselves for respect, or swinging from the ball sacks of men; because
nobody is ever equal to another. It's about our own personal self
expression, and helping the world be a better place.
Time to relax a little. I don't need to risk my life to be taken
seriously. I can be really, really good without being terrified and
on-the-edge everyday. I can be strong and independent without acting
hard and tough like a man. I can wear lipstick, and still kick ass. Hey
world, this is what we are.
And what we are is extraordinary.
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