2024年5月11日发(作者：)

关于谷爱凌的作文素材英语

Admit，I‘m In Love With FearEssay by Eileen GuFOR 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 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

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 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 , 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 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 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 y, 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 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