Loving Libby

There’s an energy and sense of wonder in Libby Copeland’s writing that makes me jealous. Here’s another one from Turin: The Americans just attack the snow with their fierce wills, the lactic acid burning up their legs, past the stands filled with exuberant fans waving flags from many nations, but not theirs. This is a sport for the stubborn and the strong.

“In some sense the only reason I’m doing this is because nobody else was doing this when I was young,” says Rachel Steer. She is considered the finest female biathlete in America, but when Steer is asked about this, she says: “I hadn’t thought about it.” Then: “It doesn’t matter.” Then: “I certainly hope I’m not the best ever.”