I still train like I did when I was competing. I talked to a lot of other older athletes when I was deciding to retire, and the one thing they all said was, “Don’t stop working out.” Those gym sessions are going to stay a way of life.
Pick Your Battles
One of the best practices I learned early was self-preservation. I was attempting gnarly tricks as a teenager, and one of the older pros told me to pick my battles. It was a lesson I also learned when I tried to return from my 2004 meniscus injury too early and got a bone bruise on one of my first jumps. I had to stay off the mountain for another three months thanks to that decision, and it was one that stuck with me. I stopped focusing on what sponsors were in the crowd or what cameras were pointed in my direction, and instead focused on whether or not it was a good choice for me.
There have been a number of times I’ve had to walk away from events. For example, when I qualified for the Olympic team for slopestyle. I knew there would be backlash. There were people who commented online or on TV, but in the end, it wasn’t going to be them in a wheelchair if something went wrong. There’s a stereotype of snowboarders and other extreme athletes as being crazy daredevils who take too many risks. I’m the opposite. Everything in my career and beyond has been calculated.
Retain Rituals
I’ve traveled a lot and have learned the importance of rituals on the road—especially at the Olympics on those stressful nights before competition. I got in the habit of bringing my own pillow, and when an event was particularly important, I flew my mattress across the world as well. I have a sound machine that plays rain forest noises that help bring me down. I got in the habit of taking cold-water plunges at the end of the day after training or competing. If there’s a lake nearby, I’ll jump into it, or if the hotel I’m staying at has a bathtub I’ll fill it with ice from the machine. I’ve also learned the value of long soaks in a hot bath with Epsom salt.