My First Roller Ski Competition: 20 Days to the Asian Cup

2025 July 12th

Being officially signed up as a Philippines FIS member was thrilling—and terrifying. One of the first things that happened was I got added to the Morong Nordic Roller Ski Team Facebook group. This is where all the members share advice, training tips, and encouragement.

When they heard about me, I could feel the skepticism: “Who’s this hockey guy thinking he can do cross-country?” But they were kind, open-minded, and willing to help. They shared videos, training tips, and even built me a basic schedule. Suddenly, I wasn’t just a guy figuring things out on his own—I was part of a team, even if virtually, and it felt like a lifeline.

Did I mention that we live in the high desert of California? Here there are very few places with smooth, safe asphalt for roller skiing. For the first 20 days, my training spots were… unconventional to say the least. I started on a bike path in Apple Valley, then found a spot behind Target in their shopping center parking lot. If you know anything about the high desert you know it's windy. No matter what time of year. I really needed to find a place closer to our home in Wrightwood. One day I just did it! I put my boots on locked in my skis right in front of our real estate office and took off!  Just days before we left for Korea I was rolling around the neighborhoods of Wrightwood.  With all the hills and intersections it felt like I was risking life and limb but as it turns out Wrightwood is a great place to roller ski. My confidence was building up every day.

Then came the reality check: I had about 20 days to train on roller skis before my first competition at the Roller Ski Asian Cup in Pyeounchang, Korea. That’s not a lot of time when your body has never experienced cross-country skiing before.  When you have trained as a quick burst athlete and not an endurance athlet.

Thankfully, I wasn’t starting completely from scratch. My natural balance from hockey helped, and I had a solid foundation from my short roller ski sessions with Selina. But even so, I had a lot to learn—pacing, technique, how to push myself without burning out, and, of course, how to survive the inevitable falls.

Every day was intense. The group messages from the Morong team kept me accountable. They’d check in: “How’s your distance today?” “Did you do your intervals?” Their advice was practical, real, and sometimes brutally honest—but that’s exactly what I needed.

And while the clock was ticking toward Korea, I could feel something shifting inside me. I wasn’t just learning a new sport; I was preparing to compete internationally. My nerves were high, my muscles were sore, but my excitement was, Off the charts.

I didn’t know what to expect in Korea. I didn’t know how I would measure up against seasoned competitors. But one thing was certain: I was ready to give it everything I had.

Next stop: my first race on roller skis, representing the Philippines—and proving to myself that this wild, unexpected journey might just be real. I really might become an Olympian.

To be continued.