Late into the worst year of her life, Mikaela Shiffrin began planning an overseas Thanksgiving dinner. Despite everything—the death of her beloved father, the interruption of her march into ski racing and sports history, the global pandemic, the severe back injury—she realized she still had much to be thankful for. More than most, in fact. If only she could, once again, summon the strength.
She made, froze and packed various sauces into her luggage, next to her race skis, which had not been used in World Cup competition for more than 300 days. She picked a secluded apartment in an undisclosed European locale.