【原文】

I Admit，I‘m In Love With Fear

Essay by Eileen Gu

FOR THE LAST 10 OF MY 18 YEARS, I’ve pursued a tumultuous love affair with fear. I’m a professional freeskier, and twin-tipped skis, 22-foot halfpipes and double-cork rotations are my main sources of adrenaline, the truly addictive core of extreme sports.

Like all bewitching lovers (at least the ones in the novels I read, for lack of real-world experience), this significant other can be … mercurial. “Fear” is really an umbrella term for three distinct sensations: excitement, uncertainty, and pressure. I’ve learned that the nuanced indicators of each of these feelings can be instrumental to success when recognized and positively leveraged, and harbingers of injury when ignored.

Though it’s easy to label extreme sport athletes as fearless or capricious, the countless hours I’ve spent visualizing tricks and practicing them in foam pits (foam. particles. everywhere) and on airbags (think giant Slip ’N Slide) suggest otherwise. It’s biologically counterintuitive for us to place ourselves in positions of risk, and while we make every effort to physically prepare, no amount of metaphorically safety-netted practice can equate to the unforgiving snow slope that rushes up to meet us after a steep kicker launches us into the air. Instead of ignoring fear, we build unique relationships with it by developing a profound sense of self-awareness and making deliberate risk assessments.

The work begins with visualization. Before I attempt a new trick, I feel a tightening high in my chest, between the base of my throat and the top of my diaphragm. I take a deep breath and close my eyes. As I ascend the gargantuan takeoff ramp, I imagine extending my legs to maximize lift. Then I picture twisting my upper body in the opposite direction I intend to spin, generating torque before I allow it to snap back the other way.

Now, in my mind, I’m airborne. I see the backside of the takeoff immediately, then my flip draws my vision to the cloudless sky above me. My ears register the wind as a kind of song, every 360-degree rotation providing the beat to the music of my motion. As my feet come under me halfway through, I spot the landing for the briefest of moments before I pull my body into the second flip. I imagine my legs swinging under me as I return to a forward-facing position and meet the ground with my weight in the front of my boots. 1440 degrees. I smile. Then I open my eyes.

In the split second following my visualization, the knot in my chest flutters and spreads — those famous butterflies reaching their final stage of metamorphosis. Excitement, the child of adrenaline, my true love and addiction. That tantalizingly precarious balance between confidence in my ability to execute the trick safely and excitement for the unpredictable experience to come. I’ve heard this state called “the zone,” which is indeed where I was when I became the first female skier in history to land the double cork 1440 last fall.

It doesn’t take much, unfortunately, for uncertainty to override confidence. Imperfect preparation moistens my palms, pushes that tight spot down into my stomach and makes each breath shallower than the last. The feeling isn’t panic, but something like dread. Danger! cries every evolutionary instinct. If I should choose to look past this safety mechanism, my body may act autonomously in the air, twisting out of the rotation and forcing me to brace for impact out of fear that full commitment to the trick may end in disaster. Every freeskier’s goal is to recognize the minute differences between excitement and uncertainty in order to maximize performance while minimizing the risk of injury.

Finally, there’s pressure, an energy source that can be wielded in many ways. One’s experience of pressure — by far the most subjective facet of “fear” — is affected by personal experiences and perspectives. Expectations of family and friends, a competitive streak, or even sponsorship opportunities can provide the scaffolding for a high-pressure environment. Pressure can be a positive force for competitors who leverage it to rise to the occasion, but it can also single-handedly dictate competitive failure.

But whether athletes alleviate or compound their innate desire to “prove themselves” depends largely on confidence. As I enter my early adulthood, I’m proud of the work I’ve done to cope with pressure by bolstering my self-esteem and minimizing my need for external validation. I focus on gratitude, perspective, and on the joy this sport brings me, regardless of whether I’m alone or in front of a worldwide TV audience. Though my views of myself and the world are constantly evolving, one thing is for certain: no matter how much time passes, I’ll always be a hopeless romantic when it comes to fear.

【译文】

我承认，我爱上了恐惧

   谷爱凌 随笔

在我18岁人生的后10年里，我一直在追寻一段充满恐惧的纷乱的爱情。我是一名专业的自由滑雪者，双头滑雪、22英尺u型场地滑雪和双软木塞旋转是我肾上腺素的主要来源，是极限运动中真正令人成瘾的核心。

就像所有迷人的恋人一样(至少是我在小说中读到的那些，因为缺乏现实生活中的经验)，这个重要的另一半可以……反复无常。“恐惧”实际上是三种不同感觉的总称: 兴奋、不确定和压力。我已经了解到，这些微妙的指标，如果被识别，或者被积极利用，这每一种感觉都可以帮助成功；如果被忽视，则将是受伤的前兆。

虽然说很容易给极限运动运动员贴上无畏或任性的标签，但我花了无数个小时琢磨技巧，并在泡沫池 (到处都是泡沫颗粒) 和 安全气囊(可想见的巨大滑块) 里实训，情况则表明并非如此。从生物学角度来说，把自己置于危险境地是违反直觉的，虽然我们尽一切努力做好身体准备, 但再多的安全网训练，也无法抵挡急速的发射将我们抛向空中，瞬间直面无情的雪坡时的恐惧。而我们不是忽视恐惧，应是通过发展深刻的自我意识和深思熟虑的风险评估来与它建立独特的关系。

这项工作从可想象化开始。在我尝试一个新技巧之前，我感到胸部有一种紧张感，在我的喉咙底部和膈肌顶部之间。我深吸一口气，闭上眼睛。当我爬上巨大的起飞坡道时，我想象着伸展我的双腿以最大限度地提高升力。然后我想象着以相反的方向扭转我的上半身，产生扭矩，然后再让它朝另一个方向弹回来。

现在，在我的脑海里，我飘飘欲仙。我立刻看到了起飞的背面，然后我的视线转向了头顶上万里无云的天空。我的耳朵把风当作一种音乐，每360度的旋转都为我的运动提供了音乐的节拍。当我的脚在我的身体下面时，我把身体拉到第二个空翻前的一瞬间，发现了落地的地方。我想象着我的腿脚在摆动，当我回到一个面向前方的位置，我的重量落在我的靴子上面触碰到地面。1440度完成了，我绽笑着睁开了眼睛。

在我打开视野的那一刹那，我胸口的结在跳动和蔓延——那些美妙的蝴蝶进入了它们最后的蜕变阶段。兴奋，肾上腺素之子，我的真爱和瘾好。在对自己安全完成魔变的信心和对即将到来的不可预知的体验的激荡之间，我的平衡非常不稳定。我听说这个状态被称为“安全区”，去年秋天，当我成为历史上第一个用双软木塞完成1440滑雪的女性滑雪者时，我就体验过那里。

不幸的是，不确定性很快会压倒信心。不完美的准备使我的手掌湿润，把那个紧绷的地方推到胃里，使每次呼吸都比上一次更急促。这种感觉不是恐慌，而是某种类似于恐惧的东西。危险! 哭是进化的本能。如果我选择忽略这个安全机制，我的身体可能会在空中自由行动，任其扭旋转，这迫使我为冲击做好准备，因为我担心完全投入这个过程可能会以灾难告终。每个自由滑雪者的目标是识别兴奋和不确定之间的细微差别， 以便最大限度发挥的同时，最大限度减少受伤的风险。

最后，还有压力，这是一种可以用在很多方面的能量来源。一个人对压力的体验——迄今为止“恐惧”是最主观的一面——受到个人经历和观点的影响。家人和朋友的期望，竞争的倾向，甚至是赞助的机会，都可以为高压环境提供支撑。对于那些利用压力来应对挑战的竞争者来说，压力可能是一种积极的力量，但它也可能因单枪匹马的决定竞争的失败。

      但是，运动员是否缓和或强化他们“证明自己”的内在欲望，很大程度上取决于信心。当我进入成年早期，我为自己通过增强自尊和减少对外界认可的需求来应对压力所做的工作感到自豪。无论对我个人，还是面对全世界的电视观众，我都注重感恩，注重观点，注重这项运动带给我的快乐。虽然我对自己和世界的看法在不断变化，但有一件事是肯定的: 无论时间过得有多久，一谈到恐惧，我总是一个不可救药的浪漫主义者。

【简评】

      这是一位年青的运动员所写的竞技体育运动中的真实感受。描述运动员在运动过程中的心理变化，以及与过程变化的契合应变机制。表述详尽、精准、细致，并有可视化的画面感，叫人读 来仿佛是随之体验，也有身临其境之感悟。

   作为一个年轻的运动员，对竞技运动中的恐惧和压力有如此深刻的理解和实作中的把握，是很多运动员，或者运动理论专家所不及的。彰显兴奋、不确定和压力这三种感觉融合成一种信心，就能理智应激反映出正确的肢体应对。同时这三种感觉的经历蜕变为运动信念，那就是运动员上档次的升华。同时作者也表达过“压力和失败是竞技运动的一部分”。那就是说对于运动员来说，随时都应有身体上和心理上的充分准备。

   这篇文章堪称范文，以作者的真实感受表达理智精致，还不失诙谐风趣，让人读来也对竞技运动有一种莫名的向往。

                             丰都智愚河畔环境技术工作室