To keep my mind busy, I wrote some e-mails, had a bite to eat then decided to read my book. And if I had to pick one thing that went right about that day, it was this. I opened the book that has had an instrumental affect on my performance – Mind Gym written by Gary Mack with David Casstevens.

The entire book is a collection of lessons, strategies, advice and stories of great athletes who have mastered their sport by mastering the mental game. My roommate, who began reading it earlier this fall, now plays on the number one ranked women's curling team in the country.

I thought it was worth a shot, especially since lugging around my own personal sports psychologist is less than convenient and hardly economical. The chapter I so brilliantly opened to, was titled "Be Here, Now."

It is this quote that struck me: "When you are playing your game on time, in the present, you perform at your best. Why? Because in the present, there is no pressure. Pressure is created by anxieties about the future and remembered failures from the past...Learn from the past. Prepare for the future. Perform in the present."

So simple, so true, and yet so unbelievably hard to do.

Upon arriving at the track I noticed a few tiny snowflakes dancing in the air, hovering safely above the ice. I couldn't wait to race, the ice looked great. My coach Robert, came up to me and said, "are you ready?" to which I nodded.

"Then relax," he said, "let it fly, and I will see you at the bottom..as quickly as possible!"

I was third last to go on the first run. As I sat in the start handles waiting for the green light and 30 second clock to commence its count down, I asked myself, "where am I?" and my answer was "right here. Right now." With Walt by my side, and a final 'go get'em' pat on my back, I took a deep breath and went. I slid well and I knew it.

I crossed the finish line to see my time and a number one beside it. I was in first place. I was leading a World Cup!

A bit confused, I had to double check with my teammates that I was, in fact, the leader. So many emotions swam through my body, I felt numb. Never having been in that position before I wasn’t sure exactly how to feel.

In between runs, I put on my head phones and tried to zone out the excitement and commotion that was happening around me. It was when I heard the announcer say "could this be the day that Canadian Regan Lauscher, ends the German streak?", when I felt my stomach drop.

The German women had won 50 consecutive World Cups, en route that day to their 51st. Luckily at that moment, I took some kind advice from an Austrian friend who has a healthy collection of his own World Cup and World Championship medals.

"Don't try and make it perfect." He said, "Just go down the hill like you know how."

And so I did. When they cleared the track for me, the final sled to go, you could have heard a pin drop. I reminded myself that no matter fast the first run was, at this point it was irrelevant. A luge race consists of two runs for a reason. I knew that my job was only half done and that I needed to finish it with the same intensity and focus as when I started. This time I told myself, "all you need to do is focus for 45 seconds. That's it. Who can't do that?"

I remember anxiously sitting up after the finish line to see the clock. It seemed like an eternity before it showed my final place. And then I saw it. A number '2' displayed in huge electronic numbers. I hadn't won, but I would step onto the podium for the first time in my life at a World Cup. I would become the first Canadian to ever to win a silver medal. I would mark history as the best Canadian finish in luge. I would watch our flag rise.

Everyone was jumping for joy. There was an endless sea of people hugging, even crying in a mixture of excitement and pride. I remember friends, family, athletes, coaches, officials and fans all smiling and extending to me their congratulations. Toques off as we listened to the familiar German anthem for the 51st time, I stared at our maple leaf. I thought it would be appropriate, if not expected, that I shed a few tears. I tried, but just couldn't muster up the water works to swipe the smile across my face.

Nearly a week later, I prepare to race at home in Calgary. After reflection on my experience in Lake Placid are lessons that mean more to me now than my medal. I showed myself, my coaches, my teammates and the rest of the world that we are competitors.

Canada DOES count. We don't wake up in the morning to finish top 10, we are fighting for the podium. Yes, only three people get medals at the end of the day and it's not always going to be me, but something I can win everyday is the mental game. The challenge isn't between me and the competition, it's between me and the ice. The only thing I’m racing against is the clock.