Humbled
Resurfacing after the first quarter of nursing school: on being humbled + being a skier who doesn't ski
I survived my first quarter of nursing school! I am pleased to say that I did decently well, but have been extremely humbled. I can’t think of a more eloquent way to say that this shit ain’t easy.
When I made the decision to switch careers and go back to school, a little part of me thought that it wouldn’t be that hard. After all, I got my first degree at a reputable school, made it on the Dean’s list every semester, and I know that I am somewhat intelligent (not to toot my own horn, but I was in the school geography bee in 4th grade and did pretty well).
I thought, how hard can technical school be? I’ll be in and out of there in no time, no sweat.
Well well well. I have news for you. Nursing school is not easy. My ego has taken a hit, friends. While I knew that none of this would be a walk in the park, I definitely expected to crush it immediately. It has forced me to get out of my little comfortable bubble of memorization and mnemonics and think critically about my decisions. To rationalize and prioritize my clinical judgement. I know this will make me a great nurse, but at this moment in time it has been crushing my fragile ego as a straight-A student.
Most of my classmates have a lot more clinical experience than I do. Being a ski patroller was great experience with trauma, but less so medical. If you have a broken femur, I got you, but if you’re in diabetic ketoacidosis, good luck my dude. Technically, I was trained to know how to deal with all sorts of medical emergencies, but they did not happen super often in the back bowls of Copper Mountain at 11,000 feet, where most people skiing were decently “healthy”. I have jokingly called myself a ski-MT. Truth be told, I was also terrified of making mistakes when I was a patroller. I somehow felt like it would be harder for me to screw up working with explosives than injured humans, so I gravitated towards avalanche control work.
So, from the get go I have felt behind. And when I feel like I’m falling behind in one area of my life, I tend to tighten my grip on something I can control—my body.
I am terrified of losing my identity as a strong, endurance-loving “athlete”. In the spirit of vulnerability, I am embarrassed to admit that one of the reasons I have delayed going back to school for so long is because I am terrified of losing my fitness. My internalized fat-phobia and fear of losing control of my body has been at the steering wheel for the entirety of my adult life.
Making a commitment to school and progress that does not involve my physical being is scary. So scary, that I actually made myself exercise almost every single day this quarter, no matter how swamped I was with school work. When I’m already putting pressure on myself to do well as a student, I have compounded that by forcing myself to move my body everyday. Depending on who you are, reader, you may read this and think to yourself wow, good for her. That’s incredible!
And that’s totally the response I want, but not the one I need. Taking a rest day is healthy. Just like my brain needs to absorb all of the information I am learning, the same goes for my muscles that need to absorb the stress I put them under.
I felt really proud of myself for exercising 84 days in a row with just one rest day in the mix, but now I am absolutely shelled both mentally and physically. The irony is that I’m 100% less strong because I’ve overdone it without proper rest. I’m at risk of over training, so now I am plopped on the couch knitting and reading and, well, sharing all of this with you.
In all honesty, there have been moments where I have hated (hate hate hate, triple hate, looooooooathe) school, and have questioned this decision that I consciously made while AxO by 4. There were some low moments early on in the quarter, when it crossed my mind to bail.
There have been moments where the class is having a discussion about things they have seen in the hospital or care facilities and it truly feels like I am hearing a new language. Foley catheter? Eupnic? Turgor? Tramadol? NPO? PRN? QID? What the heck are all of these acronyms? What have I done?
But, I persevered through the confusion and tears and made it to the other side. I am happy to announce that I now know at least 15 more acronyms and have a few new Scrabble words in my rotation. And I guess I have learned some other things too, which is pretty cool.
Once clinicals started, I remembered why I am in nursing school and I’ve felt rejuvenated by being able to care for real people. It reminded me that I am where I belong and am really excited to continue growing into this profession, and continue to be humbled.
School has forced me to reckon with losing my identity as a skier. Going into school, I was positive that I would still be able to ski one day a week. Once again, I’ve been extremely humbled. School has not only taken a lot of effort but also time. Time that I have historically put towards days in the mountains.
I have skied for 4 days total this season. Four. That’s the least I have ever skied since I started when I was three years old. I expected this to be a huge issue for me, getting intense FOMO while everyone around me gets face shots. Luckily (for me, no one else), this season has been a bust and I don’t feel like I have missed out on that many epic days. Or, that’s at least what I am telling myself.
The days I have been able to get out have been high quality adventures. I have not taken them for granted like I have in the past. Now, being able to move in the mountains feels like a privilege, not a priority. When I am out in the backcountry these days, the blue skies look even more vibrant, the surface hoar is extra glittery, and connecting turns feels even more like a dance. I am returning to myself when I link up arcing turns on the perfect fall line pitch. I remember why I ski. It’s not to prove myself to the world, but to just wiggle and giggle. To remember how to play and feel joy.
There are seasons of life where priorities change, and right now school is my number one priority. I am really proud of myself for recognizing that, because that has never been the case. I have taken pride in having my life revolve around sliding on snow. The purpose, direction, community, and confidence skiing has brought me cannot be understated. I don’t know who I would be if I didn’t ski.
And now, here I am, bailing on 90% ski days. If it's not the perfect storm (10% density snow or bust) or blue bird pow day, I’ve been opting for a casual run in the woods and then study for the remainder of the day until my eyes fall out.
It’s strange to admit, but it’s somewhat freeing. I thought I would be having an emotional reckoning by only skiing a handful of days. But, I think I know that I will always be a skier, and there are many more seasons of skiing ahead of me. I have zero expectations for myself this season. No big pursuits. No mileage or vert goals or even really major objectives. My main objective is to become a nurse.
I’m putting this out there in the world because I think it’s normalized and celebrated to overwork ourselves until we combust. But, it’s not normal to go and go and go until there’s nothing left to give. I am once again learning that rest is actually necessary in order to progress and get stronger. Burnout is not a sign of success, but a sign that I need to reel it in.
It’s also okay for priorities to shift. Some seasons of life to feel like a loss of self, but in reality it’s building a foundation for an even more fulfilling life.




Nursing school is definitely a different beast! I love the honesty here. Shifting from being the ski-MT to being a student again sounds like such a vulnerable process
yes liv love this!!