And then just like that, the snow begins to melt on the lower slopes. Week by week the stations close for the season, and the final Skimo World Cup gets ticked off the calendar. Although I did not make the same leap forward I made last year, I still achieved some goals that once felt far away: racing the Pierra Menta, becoming a World Champion and winning silver at the Masters Skimo World Champs, alongside personal best results in the World Cups.
Yet this season felt different. Maybe it was the intensity of chasing Olympic qualification last year that set last season apart, such a clear and consuming goal. Or maybe it was the feeling that everything I was doing, I was doing alone. Well… almost alone, with my four-footed buddy Mac always by my side.
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| Becoming World Champion in my AG and 3rd overall at the Masters World Championship |
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| racing the Mixed Relay with Jens at the World Cup in Villars |
I have always been intrinsically motivated. I do not rely on praise from others to keep going. But coming home to an empty apartment after races, carrying stories inside me, whether stories of success or disappointment, and having no one there to share them with, felt harder than I expected.
Even though I quickly met many people in the Chamonix valley, they were not necessarily the people I longed for. My sister, my closest friends, all lived oceans or mountain tops away. And with a winter packed full of racing and working full-time to fund it all, I felt more isolated than I have in a very long time.
The strange thing is that I crave connection, yet I am deeply introverted. I genuinely enjoy people, but socialising drains me. I often come home needing quiet and space to recover. Combined with the fatigue of training, racing and working, I slowly found myself retreating further and further inward simply because I no longer had the energy to keep showing up.
It was a season full of highs and lows, in form, health, fatigue and happiness. But I suppose that is life. Breaking my toe two weeks before the icing on the cake of the season, racing the PDG with Lara and Camille, felt like a brutal twist. Maybe I did not want to face reality. Like always, my brain searched for solutions, It will be okay, I kept telling myself. I did not want to let my teammates down by not racing, but in the end I let them down by racing while not healthy enough to take on such a huge challenge. It was not how I wanted to close the skimo season.
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| starting the PDG with such strong teammates in Camille and Lara was a dream come true |
I am a dreamer. That is who I am. And the way I cope is by moving forward as quickly as possible, by chasing the next thing, the next goal, the next challenge. Maybe sometimes that means outrunning the pain instead of facing it. A delayed processing. Which had created numbness in the last 12 months, a feeling of simply going through the motions.
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| feeling so incredibly happy living in the mountains and isolated at the same time |
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| to have this as part of my daily routine is a dream come true |
For years, one of my biggest dreams has been to own a home in the mountains. Strangely, the collapse of my personal life became the very thing that pushed me back toward that dream. After months of stress, endless French paperwork, and unbelievably patient owners who waited a full twelve months to sell me the apartment instead of putting it back on the market, I finally sat in the notary office to sign the final documents and receive the keys.
It felt surreal. After so many setbacks, I almost could not believe it was truly happening. I listened as the notary explained that the apartment had belonged to Mrs. V for forty years, and that her son was selling it on her behalf because she had become too ill to use it anymore. Then I noticed something on the paperwork: her birthday was October 31st. My birthday too. What are the chances?
I thought I would break down emotionally the moment I walked through the door. I thought the weight of the last year would finally hit me. Instead, I walked into the living room, looked out at the breathtaking view of Mont Blanc glowing in the sunset, I looked at Mac who made his way on the balcony, I put the keys on the outdoor table, and despite how beautiful it was… I still felt numb.
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| a home with a view |
As usual, I tackled this new chapter head-on. Thanks to my real estate agent I found a builder who lived next door, and before I knew it, a new kitchen had been chosen, carpets ripped out, tiles picked for the bathroom, walls stripped and half the apartment painted, all within less than a week of owning it.
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| painting with Mac |
When close friends laughed and told me that this was “so typically me,” I caught myself wondering if maybe that is also why I have always struggled to fully fit into groups.
But owning my own place in the mountains means more to me than I can put into words. And then I received a message from my best friend Jantiene. She had uploaded a little video of herself dancing — something we used to send each other last year when both our lives felt like houses of cards, ready to collapse at any moment. Her message read:
"Dearest Nienke, I have not forgotten you. Here is our daily dance. We are owners of a home in the mountains."
As I watched her beautiful, joyful face dancing on my screen, it finally hit me.
I did it. We both did it.
And the tears came.
I am not finding it easy doing everything alone. Every milestone, every setback, every step forward. My beautiful sister is battling her own struggles in the US, and much of my family watches my life from a distance. But Jantiene’s message reminded me of something important: I am not truly alone. I have dear friends scattered across countries and continents who celebrate with me when life is good, who suffer with me when life is hard, and who stand beside me even when it feels like I am facing my darkest moments alone.
And maybe that is life. Every emotion. Every dream. Every breathtaking sunset. Every mountain climbed, physically and emotionally. At the end of the day, they belong to you.
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| my remote employment at VET-AI has given me more than it can ever take from me |
Chasing dreams can get lonely. Yet I would still choose this life again and again.
To dream big. To chase impossible goals. To fail and rise once more, head held high. To keep building, keep progressing, keep living. To embrace every moment, the beautiful ones and the painful ones alike.
As I head into the summer season with big goals ahead, I feel a renewed sense of energy. And I want to keep searching for the other misfits out there, the people who live and feel deeply, who take on this roller coaster called life with courage and open hearts, and nourish the ones I already cherish.
Because life is now.
| starting the cycling season with Katie and Jo Jo |
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| appreciating close friends in Chamonix |
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| by chance Jo Jo was driving passed and my first guest |
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