The Real Poop

The Real Poop

French fries, pizza, french fries, pizza. This what you learned at your first ski lesson, right? (Or was it in the cafeteria…?) Well, hopefully, if you're considering becoming an NCAA skier, then you're past the french-fries-and-pizza stage.

"AND THAT IS HOW YOU PIZZA, PRIVATES."

Great. Now we're hungry.

On the real, though? The rumors are true. Snow is not just for making snowmen anymore. You can also throw it, shovel it, kick it, melt it, eat it, and—until somewhat recently—ski it. Nothing's better than binding your feet with long, thin pieces of metal, taking a rickety old chair up to the very top of a snowy precipice, and screaming "Tally-ho!" before plummeting to your near-death experience.

Oh, did we scare you? Sorry. But can you really blame us, given that Shmoop headquarters is in bright and sunny California? Seriously, we freak out when it rains for more than twenty minutes.

Truth be told, skiing is fun (or so we've been told). NCAA skiing, though, is hardcore. Only the strong (or incredibly lucky) survive. There are two major categories of NCAA skiing: Alpine and Nordic, or downhill and cross-country if you don't want to sound pretentious. Both styles involve intense training regimens and hours upon hours of exercises that eat up precious study time.

Schools compete in various events involving different distances that range from five to twenty kilometers. The biggest deal of them all is the NCAA Skiing Championship, which has been held annually since 1954, though it only let women compete starting in 1983 (source). The events are split between men and women, and at the end of the competition, scores are added up and the team with the most total points wins. Badda bing, badda boom, right? Easy as pie.

Hold up—not so fast. What makes NCAA skiing incredibly taxing is the training leading up to the big competitions. Competition day might be all about a team's performance, but behind the scenes, skiers have to dig deep, big time. Training is no small commitment, and the better your team is, the more time you can expect to spend sweating bullets in hopes of dominating come competition time.

Like other high-performance athletes, skiers have to watch what they eat, especially when competing at a collegiate level. And if you're into skiing because you're a snow bunny at heart, consider yourself warned: Much of the training happens in the gym, away from the slopes, and involves cardiovascular training, balance exercises, and muscle-building workouts.

Still, the best and baddest NCAA ski teams hail from locations where snow is abundant and team members can hit the slopes on the regular. Schools like the University of Denver, University of Colorado, and University of Utah dominate the ski circuit, historically holding the vast majority of titles. Consider it a perk for having cold toes for so much of the year.

These Division-I schools are so good that they have a team of recruiters who seek out the best high school skiers in the country. That means athletes who live in areas with less snow are at a great disadvantage when it comes to getting scholarships to these types of dream schools. They just have fewer opportunities to gain exposure. Womp womp.

The best way to get around this little bump, though, is to be great. If just standing out from the crowd doesn't send recruiters running your way, though, then send in videos to coaches and ski teams. Getting noticed is one of the most difficult and crucial parts of joining top college ski teams, so be prepared to do whatever it takes to get your incredible skiing skills to go viral.

That said, when choosing a school, it's also important to be realistic. Not everybody can be the star athlete on the NCAA Championship-winning University of Colorado ski team. In fact, that spot is generally reserved for a freak-of-nature wunderkind who's on the straight and narrow path to the next Winter Olympics. There are always smaller schools looking to beef up their ski roster, though, and they offer scholarships, too, so don't shy away from them if your top priority is high level collegiate skiing.

If that doesn't work out, look at club teams—ones that are less about winning and more about having fun and skiing for skiing's sake. Consider this an opportunity to reconnect with why you started skiing in the first place.

As you've probably noticed, skiing is not a top priority in the world of mainstream sports. People just don't seem to care about the season's best times for the women's fifteen-kilometer classical cross-country events like they used to. We blame LeBron James for this.

So if you want to be a Johnny Manziel-type college star, college skiing might not be the path for you. The most hype an NCAA skier gets is local fame and maybe some love from his/her own college, assuming it's a ski-centric one. But who really becomes an athlete for the fame, anyway?

On top of being physically demanding and a major time-suck, being an NCAA athlete in skiing also hurts your checkbook. Unfortunately, the gear needed for top-level skiing competitions burns holes in pockets faster than poorly placed self-lighting firecrackers. The cost of boots, poles, skis, jackets, goggles, season lift passes for ski resorts, along with the cost of gas and transportation… let's just say it adds up. Fast.

If you want calves that are so impressive that tiny cherubs kiss them, then keep skiing.

And the pain doesn't stop at your wallet. Getting hurt is common for skiers, and, especially in fast-paced events like the slalom races, both short- and long-term injuries often occur, with the knee region taking the brunt of the damage (source). And hey, don't forget your helmet. Your brain will only thank you.

On the bright side, skiers are typically in great shape, especially those Nordic guys that have calves that bulge like the statue of a Greek god. Leg lifts and squats have their lower-halves looking like they're auditioning for a shoddy sequel to the movie 300.

There's a lot of pressure when it comes to NCAA skiing since it's both an individual and team effort. This level of competition is not for everyone, but if Olympic glory is at the top of your career goals, then joining one of the top colleges (like the University of Denver), where snow falls every winter like white gold, is probably where you want to go.

Realistically, though, the amount of people qualified for this elite group is terribly limited. But if you make it there, and eventually win an NCAA Championship, then you can expect all the fame and glory the sport has to offer. So stay frosty.