My name is Vlada, and winter has always felt like the place where I truly belong ❄️. Every morning, before anyone else in the village wakes up, I take my skis and head to the quiet snowy trail. Training makes me feel strong and focused. As a young biathlete, I’ve learned to calm my breathing after long sprints, steady my hands, and trust myself when I lift my rifle 🎯. Some people say I’m too dedicated, but I know why I push so hard 💪. I imagine the sound of cheering crowds, the sharp start signal, and the moment I cross the finish line. My classmates don’t always understand why I spend so much time in the cold, but passion is difficult to explain ⭐. In my last race, I slipped on an icy turn and crashed. For a moment I thought about giving up, but then I stood up and kept going. I finished second 🏅, and that taught me that resilience is my greatest strength.

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I first touched the cold grip of a biathlon rifle, I’ve carried one dream inside me. It follows me through every early-morning training session, every breath of icy air, every glide across the snow. I dream of standing at the start line of a world championship, my heart racing not from fear, but from pride. When I train, I imagine the stadium lights shining on the track, the silence before the shot, the calm that settles inside me just before I pull the trigger. I picture the perfect moment when the target falls, and I push forward again, skis cutting through the snow like wings. My coach says dreams are built, not granted, and I try to build mine every single day. Sometimes I get tired, sometimes I fall, but the dream never fades. I see myself crossing the finish line, hearing the crowd cheer, knowing I’ve earned my place there. One day, I’ll make that dream real — and every step I take now brings it closer.

I’ll never forget the funniest biathlon race of my life. That morning I felt unstoppable — skis waxed, rifle ready, confidence sky-high. The start went perfectly, and I was flying over the snow like a hero in a sports movie. Then disaster struck in the most ridiculous way: I sneezed. One tiny sneeze, and suddenly my skis crossed, my balance disappeared, and I did a very ungraceful wiggle that made the crowd gasp and laugh at the same time. Trying to recover my dignity, I reached the shooting range and took position. I breathed out, focused… and a snowflake landed right on my eyelash. I blinked, the rifle slipped, and I shot so far from the target that even the judge smirked. During my penalty loop I waved at my coach; he covered his face like he didn’t know me. I finished near the end, but everyone remembered my “snowflake race.” At least I made biathlon entertaining!