BY THE time I was nineteen, we were traveling so much that it had ceased to feel as though I lived anywhere other than in a never-ending series of hotels. I’d podiumed in my first World Cup race that season, but I wasn’t yet a star on the team the way Blair and Luke were, so I was usually stuck rooming with a teammate. For the first time in my life, I had an entire gaggle of girlfriends: gutsy, outspoken women who understood me. Still, they were minor players, I was never as close with anyone as I was with Luke and Blair. Even before we’d hooked up, Luke had been greedy with my time and Blair’s, and there was always the fear that he’d go off the rails without us, especially during the off-season, when he was without the structure of his competition schedule.

Unless you were at the very top of the sport, there wasn’t much money to be made in skiing. Once I’d made the U.S. Ski Team, I attracted more attention from sponsors, who matched my winnings and supplied all of my gear, but the team dues were hefty, and travel expenses were not always covered. I still relied heavily on the support of the trustees, leaving me endlessly indebted to Tad. Being on the road was exciting at first—the world-class resorts, the downtime in towns all over Europe, but it wore on me too. I felt like I never had enough clean laundry, like the bed was always either too hard or too soft, like I would never be free of jet lag for as long as I lived. In retrospect, these complaints could not possibly feel more petty; I’d give anything to have those happy years back.

I treasured the chances to come home to see my parents or visit Penny at the bachelorette pad she shared in Boise with Emily. I often felt like I’d been in space when I came to see them, as though time progressed more quickly for her and Emily than it did for me. There wasn’t anything I’d rather be doing than skiing, but there was an undeniable monotony to it. The repetitive hours of training and dryland workouts, the spectacular views from the various start houses that nonetheless began to blur together: from Lake Louise to Sölden, it became one long glittering stretch of Alpine. Meanwhile, Penny’s and Emily’s lives progressed as they made their way through school, observing more ordinary coming-of-age rituals, such as living on their own for the first time, figuring out how to budget for groceries, and how to hold their liquor.