Redefining Dreams on a Snowy Montana Day

Imagine a life where the unexpected becomes the norm—where deconstructing deeply ingrained beliefs, battling nature's fury, and facing personal adversities are just the beginning of an extraordinary journey. Our host invites you into the intimate spaces of their life story, from the heights of training for the Olympics and serving as an army officer in Iraq, to summiting Mount Kilimanjaro and surviving a tornado. This episode isn't just a recount of events; it's a tapestry woven with resilience, introspection, and the courage to redefine dreams when faced with the unthinkable. Through the lens of their latest creative endeavor, the Substack "Go Hike Like a Woman," the host shares a poignant tale that challenges the very essence of ambition and self-worth.

Set against the backdrop of a snowy November in Montana, our host recounts a pivotal moment when their ski coach's harsh words thrust them into a confrontation with doubt and disappointment. What does it truly take to chase dreams that seem just out of reach? Discover how this moment of vulnerability became a catalyst for reflection and growth, and how it ultimately shaped their journey. Join us to explore stories that transcend the ordinary, offering a raw glimpse into what it means to pursue passions relentlessly, even when the world says otherwise. This episode is a testament to the power of storytelling, connection, and the unyielding spirit to keep moving forward.

Learn more by visiting our website at https://www.hikelikeawoman.com

Transcript

Speaker 0: 0:13

I've done a lot of really weird things in my life, things that are kind of unusual or unexpected. I was raised in a very high demand religion that I don't ever talk about and leaving that religion and deconstructing that religion has been a really significant part of my adulthood. I was an elite athlete. I was trying to make a national team. I was training for the Olympics. I was an elite athlete. I was trying to make a national team. I was training for the Olympics. I was an army officer. I did two deployments to Iraq. I have had my house destroyed by a tornado. I've delivered a nine pound, two ounce baby boy. I've had breast cancer. I've owned an outdoor retail store. I've owned a ski shop. I've climbed to the top of Mount Kilimanjaro. I've started Hike Like a Woman. I've done all of these really weird random things. But there hasn't ever been a space where I felt like I could talk about things like my ski career and have it really fit with Hike Like a Woman. And I might transition this podcast a little bit away from Hike Like a Woman because I feel like it's the most intimate of all the spaces that I'm at on the internet and part of that transition has been finding a place to just get back to writing and writing about all of these weird things that I've done with my life, things that when I look back I'm like, did I really jump out of an airplane at the US Army's airborne school? And yeah, I did five times and I actually got hurt on my fourth jump and maybe I'll talk about that sometime. Anyway, I have started a sub stack and this is a long winded way to say that. I am now on sub stack and I just recently learned what sub stack is. It's kind of a place where writers can hone their craft and tell stories and I'm learning how to be a better storyteller. I think that's really fun. So I've actually been getting kind of vulnerable over on our Substack. The Substack is called Go Hike Like a Woman, so if you are a Substack fan and you want to read what I'm writing over there, that is completely separate from what I'm producing over at Hike Like a Woman, go check it out. Today I just want to share a story with you and get your thoughts on this story. Maybe it's something about me that you don't know, but getting a little vulnerable. But I want to read the very first thing that I have published on Substack. So here we go.

Speaker 0: 2:58

I sat across the table from my coach on a snowy November afternoon at the Holiday Inn in West Yellowstone, montana. I was an athlete on the US Army's all guard biathlon team. My coach was a gray haired man with an angular face, stinky breath and a cold disposition. I didn't like him, but I didn't loathe him. Our friendship was all business. He wasn't the best coach I'd had. He wasn't the worst. His job was to help me get strong and fast enough to make the US national biathlon team. My job was to listen to what he told me to do and then do it.

Speaker 0: 3:37

Our training camp had ended and it was time for my teammates and me to meet with our coach individually to assess our performance at the first camp of the season and set expectations for the future. That's when he looked at me with chilly eyes and said these words you don't have what it takes to make the national team, you don't have what it takes to make the Olympic team and you never will. I was shocked. I knew I wasn't the best on the team, but I felt like I could make it. I blinked back tears, took a deep breath to calm my disappointment and asked what does it take to make the national team? If you had what it takes, you wouldn't be asking me that question, was his reply. He wasn't the first ski coach to doubt my abilities. This was starting to be a trend with my coaches. Maybe they were all right, I thought to myself. I stood up, turned around and retreated to my room with tears streaming down my face. I felt defeated, rejected, disappointed and angry. I picked up the phone and called my parents. Disappointed and angry, I picked up the phone and called my parents. I need you to come pick me up and, at 22 years old, my ski career ended.

Speaker 0: 4:51

The words you don't have what it takes have haunted me for over 20 years. They are words that left a scar in the depths of my soul. Sometimes I feel like I've had something to prove because of them. Sometimes I can accept defeat, because those words surface when I don't believe in myself. Sometimes I've been at peace with those words because they caused my life to diverge onto a new and different path. But no matter what, those words have caused me to be fiercely protective of the language that I use as a mother and the language that I've used as a coach, a friend and a mentor. Those words have caused me to be a cheerleader, to root for the underdog and never underestimate anyone, including myself. Those words have gotten me through combat chemotherapy and to the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro.

Speaker 0: 5:41

On good days I remind myself that my coach was wrong. I do have what it takes, but on that cold, snowy, dark day I needed a coach to sit across the table from me, look me in the eye and say Rebecca, you're not there yet, but I believe in you and I believe in you. Thanks so much for listening today and letting me share this story with you. You can find more over on my sub stack or, if you want to learn more about what we do at Hike Like a Woman, just head on over to our website, hikelikeawomancom. Thanks so much. I'll see you next week.