By Mark Armbruster, CFA
I decided this year to stop coaching our high school’s cross country ski team. For five winters, the sport consumed my life: practice every afternoon, buses and logistics during the day, waxing skis at night, and traveling to races across New York most weekends. That meant cheap hotels, eating at a lot of bad restaurants, sleepless nights, and plenty of stress getting ready for big races. It was also physically demanding. Not only did I do the workouts with the kids, but I would schlep bins of wax gear and ski equipment through snow into remote areas so we could test waxes before each race. The past two years I developed tennis elbow from prepping so many skis.
For a long time, it was worth it. The kids were great, our team was strong, and the community we built with the parents was fun to be part of. With three assistant coaches, we built something meaningful. We won our share of races even at the state level, and watching the kids grow and achieve was a highlight. I still have close relationships with many of them, and with other coaches and parents.
But now with my own kids moving on and mostly out of the house, my priorities are shifting and I couldn’t justify the commitment any longer. It was an emotional decision to retire; one I wrestled with for a long time. I was worried whether I would stay connected to some of the kids and if I would continue to ski without the structure of a team. But now that winter is here, what I feel mostly is relief.
And I’m having a lot of fun again. I’ve had the time to groom trails on my property and ski every day we’ve had snow. I take the dog out on my skis in the morning and head to local parks on the weekends. I still run into a lot of my old ski friends, so I haven’t felt like I’ve been disconnected at all from the endurance sports community.
Ironically, now that I’m not required to travel for races, I’m choosing to. I’m going to see four of my son’s college races, mostly in Vermont. Nipa and Nyla will go to a couple of them, and we’ll do a few college visits for Nyla while we’re away. My son Amer and I are planning to downhill ski in Vermont during his break in February, and we’ve got a family trip planned to watch the Nordic Skiing World Cup races in Lake Placid in late March.
Somehow, I’ve managed to fill up basically my whole winter, with fun, family-centered activities that I’m really looking forward to.
I’m a creature of habit, and big changes can be unsettling. But in this case, giving up an important activity has opened the door to many other opportunities that should be just as fun and rewarding.
In stepping away from coaching, I expected to feel a hole, but instead it created the space for me to reconnect with the parts of winter I’d forgotten in the blur of logistics and late‑night waxing. I also have new challenges ahead: I’m hoping to add backcountry skiing to my repertoire next winter.
The lesson, I suppose, is that letting go isn’t always an ending. And while I’ve been able to “do everything” for a lot of years, my age is catching up with me. So, this winter, with its quiet mornings on my own trails and its road trips taken by choice rather than obligation, I’m reminded that decisions don’t have to be binary or linear. There are different ways to pursue priorities in more moderate, and often more fulfilling, ways.