Just weeks away from her second attempt (Jenny will leave the UK in mid-November), the memories from last year feel more vivid than ever. There was the surreal moment of getting off the plane in Antarctica, turning to watch it fly away, and realizing how alone she truly was. There were the good days of skiing, when hours flew by and she moved through a calm, purposeful "flow state" that felt like meditation.
And there were the storms, the cold and disorientation that proved the biggest test of resilience. After skiing herself into exhaustion on the day of the marshmallow-like whiteout, Jenny collapsed in her tent and reached for her radio. She was required to update Antarctica base camp on her location.
"Oh, so you skied today," the operator said.
"What do you mean, I skied today?" Jenny responded. He told her everyone else in Antarctica that day — tourists looking for penguins or visiting the South Pole, even an athlete racing for the men's speed record — had stayed in their tents. Jenny was the only one who'd faced the storm. "No one told me I could stay in my tent today," Jenny thought. "What the hell?" Then it started to sink in: all the guys had stayed in their tents, and Jenny had skied. "Yeah," she remembered thinking. "I'm a badass."
