Mikaela Shiffrin: What I Remember Most About My Dad

The First Teacher

When I think about my dad, Jeff Shiffrin, the first thing that comes to mind isn’t the medals, the podiums, or the endless days on the slopes. It’s the lessons he taught me long before I ever became a professional skier. My dad was my first teacher in life. He showed me the basics of skiing, yes, but also the basics of discipline, kindness, and responsibility. He was never one to push me toward stardom. Instead, he encouraged me to love the process, to respect the mountain, and to appreciate the small steps along the way.

The Quiet Presence

Dad was never loud in the spotlight. He was the quiet presence on the sidelines, the calm voice when things got stressful. He wasn’t the parent shouting instructions at the finish line or constantly giving critiques. He had a gentle way of guiding me, offering advice when I needed it, but always letting me find my own path. That’s what I remember most about him—his ability to make me feel safe no matter what was happening around me. He believed in me even when I doubted myself, and that belief gave me the courage to chase my dreams.

Days on the Mountain

Some of my fondest memories with Dad are from the early days on the mountain. He would wake up before sunrise to pack the car, making sure my brother Taylor and I had everything we needed. The rides were filled with music, laughter, and sometimes just quiet moments watching the sun come up. Dad taught me that skiing wasn’t just about winning races; it was about the joy of being outdoors, the thrill of carving into fresh snow, and the gratitude of spending time together as a family. Those lessons stayed with me far beyond childhood.

A Love of Learning

My dad was a physician, and his love of learning shaped everything he did. He had an incredible curiosity about the world and a deep respect for knowledge. That mindset influenced me in so many ways. He taught me to approach skiing the same way he approached medicine—with focus, attention to detail, and a willingness to never stop learning. He always said, “You’re never done improving.” Even at the peak of my career, I hear his words in my head every time I walk into the gym or step into my skis.

Strength in Hard Times

When I’ve faced struggles in my career—the injuries, the crashes, the pressure—my dad’s voice has always been there. He had this way of reminding me that tough times don’t define us, but how we respond to them does. After bad races, he didn’t dwell on the mistakes. Instead, he asked me what I learned and how I could use that knowledge next time. That perspective made me stronger, not just as an athlete but as a person. He showed me how to carry myself with humility and resilience.

The Unexpected Loss

Losing my dad in 2020 was the hardest moment of my life. It was sudden and heartbreaking, something I don’t think I’ll ever fully make sense of. For months, I couldn’t imagine racing again without him there. Skiing felt empty. I questioned whether I even wanted to continue in a sport that had been so tied to his presence. But in time, I realized that skiing was also a way to stay connected to him. Every run, every turn, every finish line is a way of honoring his memory.

Carrying Him With Me

Even though he isn’t physically here, I carry my dad with me every day. I see him in the little rituals I keep before races, in the way I analyze my training, and in the calm I try to bring to the most stressful moments. I often find myself asking, “What would Dad say right now?” And the answer usually comes—steady, reassuring, reminding me that I am capable. That voice keeps me grounded when the noise of competition gets too loud.

The Family Man

Beyond being my mentor and supporter, Dad was simply a loving father and husband. He adored my mom and made sure Taylor and I grew up knowing the importance of family. He taught us that success means nothing if you don’t have people to share it with. That lesson has shaped the way I view my own career. I don’t ski just for the medals or the records—I ski for the people I love, for the family that has supported me, and for the memory of my dad who gave me everything.

Gratitude in Memory

Today, when fans ask me about my biggest inspiration, the answer is always my dad. He was the foundation of everything I’ve built. My gratitude for him is endless, not just for the way he helped me as an athlete, but for the way he shaped me as a human being. The patience, the humility, the work ethic—all of it comes from him. Even in his absence, he continues to inspire me to be better, to stay true to who I am, and to appreciate every moment I get on the mountain.

Closing Thoughts

What I remember most about my dad is not a single moment but the collection of thousands of little things. His smile at the finish line, the way he fixed my boots, the car rides to practice, the quiet talks late at night. It’s all those moments stitched together that form the memory of him. I carry those memories with me every time I put on my skis. My dad may not be standing at the bottom of the slope anymore, but in every race, in every victory, and even in every defeat, he is still with me. And that is what keeps me moving forward.