I skied before I walked. As a child, I relied on medical devices from walkers, wheelchairs, and half-body braces. I underwent dozens of surgeries and extensive stays in the hospital. My survival birth rate was slim and if I were to survive I was likely to never walk. Through years of physical and occupational therapy, unmatched medical teams, unconditional love from my family, and honing resiliency and perseverance it was clear that physical tribulations don’t transfer into physical limitations but transpire with self-determination and alchemy towards physical victory. In the breaks from surgeries, I found anatomical freedom in a pair of skis. I began skiing at three with half a dozen volunteers tethering me down the hill. Adrenaline, endurance, and grande movement felt out of touch until my skiing took off. When I skied, then independently, and then with speed, precision, purpose and the embodiment of this craved adrenaline, endurance, and grande movement the result was out of body. My disability wasn’t a vessel of scars, slim odds, or carbon-style leg braces but an outlet to conquer with resiliency and defy and define what my body can do. My body’s congenital deficit would hinder my gross motor skills. My skis took away this deficit before surgeries could. Eventually, I landed on daily orthotics that connected my body with movement, endurance, and everyday activity. I have backpacked the Himalayas, raced in national competitions, and stepped onto stages addressing hundreds. I’ve hiked, danced, swam, and defied those once slim odds of living and walking. I’m stoked to share my return to the Paralympic Circuit. Racing is a large part of my found purpose and chasing this connection between my body and anatomical excellence echoes my resilience, alchemy, drive, and adaptive story. Physical tribulations never mean having physical limitations.