My Dad got me into skiing when I was 7. The first time he took me skiing, I fell off the T-bar on my first ride up. I stood up, skied down, making turns, or so he claims, and hid in a bush for the rest of the afternoon. When he found me I said 'I never want to ski again.' I feel a lot like that right now.

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In Canada we may actually be stronger in freestyle skiing than we are in hockey.

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After his finals run, and I realized I would not be going to the Olympics, I collected myself, and then walked across the finish area to shake his hand. It was probably the hardest thing I've ever done, shaking his hand, but at the same time I know he would have done the same for me. It was a really hard because I could feel how sad he was for me, even in his happiest moment. We were both crying.

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It tells me I'm legitimate. When you don't have a medal, it's hard, even if you know you're capable of it.

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Of course, the last 10 years have shaped who I am today, and I know that how I react to the last few days will also shape who I will become, but to be perfectly honest I'm not even close to looking on the bright side. I hope I will be able to, sooner than later, but this is the hardest thing I've had to deal with and I don't expect it to pass lightly or easily.

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