Racing for more
I had the unique experience of competing for three championship-winning programs during my collegiate athletic experience. Princeton's track team was 2-time Triple Crown winners (the "Triple Crown" consists of winning the Heptagonal championships in cross-country, indoor track, and outdoor track all in the same season), St. Olaf was NCAA Division III cross-country champions, and Northern Michigan finished as the highest-scoring men's Nordic team at NCAA's. Each of these teams were unique in many ways; unique individuals came together in unique ways to fight the unique battles in front of them. Although these teams were unique, not one succeeded without individual sacrifice and hard work, and not one succeeded without a passion for team success superseding that for individual recognition. Coach Dolan's mantra "Success breeds success" resonates in each instance. Similarly, work ethic bred work ethic, individual positivity bred a positive team atmosphere, winning mentality spread contagiously, and simple friendships led to brotherhood. Ultimately, when challenge arose at season's end, individuals on these teams stepped to the line racing for more than themselves.
7 guys toe the line for the Big O
NCAA Championships, November 23, 2013
Racing beyond college has been difficult for me for this reason: finding the passion that athletes on college teams have to race for more than the self is elusive. For most of this 2016-2017 season I've struggled to shake the feeling that I'm merely racing for an individual result. While racing with the motive of individual success, I can only push so far. When I'm racing alone the pain is greater, the wall is bigger, and the resistance to victory is stronger.
This past week I had, for the first time, the chance to race for the USA. I joined six other US biathletes in Finland to race the IBU Cup in Kontiolahti. Although we are simply six individuals, we represent more than just ourselves, and to me that is something special. I acknowledge that we cannot truly represent America as a whole: the good, the bad, and the ugly. America is not perfect, and neither are we, but to simply have the opportunity to represent our country to a tiny fraction of the world in a sport ironically unknown to most Americans is to me still an honor and a privilege that I'm not going to take for granted. And so I found myself racing for something greater than my own result once again.
Minnesota biathlete Jake Ellingson and I happened to be on the same flight from JFK to Helsinki and landed in the morning on Monday, well before the rest of our team was to arrive. We stuffed everything (rifles included) into our ski bags, checked them into airport storage for €10, and, with little idea as to what we were doing, set off to explore Helsinki. I was surprised as to how easy and affordable the public transportation was, which allowed us to make the most of our eight hours of freedom. The highlight was exploring the ruins of Suommenlinna, a military island-fortress build by Sweden around 1750 to guard against Russian expansion. Later that evening we joined our teammates and traveled north by train, finally arriving in Joensuu around 11pm. When my head hit the pillow that night, I slept like a baby; when the alarm went off in the morning, I felt I could've slept another 10 hours. But off to training we went. Those first two days were spent plagued by jetlag, desperately trying to awake from a deep funk.
Helsinki train station. A world where Nordic skiing is a big deal! The Nordic world championships in Lahti covered signs, advertisements, and newspaper headlines.
Exploring the caverns at Suommenlinna fortress
"The big church" in Helsinki
My first race in Kontiolahti was a 20km individual, in which biathletes ski five times around a four-kilometer loop, stopping to shoot between each loop. No penalty laps are skied for a miss. Instead, a whopping 1-minute penalty is assessed (penalty laps typically take 21-25 seconds, so this aspect of the individual stresses shooting accuracy). I started bib number two, and, after passing the bib one Moldovan skier on the first hill, I found myself alone in a beautiful world of tall pines and long climbs. I was enjoying the moment, racing on the IBU cup in the USA uniform (emblazoned, of course, with our country's standard purple and orange color scheme). Looking back I may have enjoyed the moment too much - my first lap ski time ranked 39th and I lost 38 seconds to the winner in the first 4km alone. I had been hoping that starting my race conservatively would result in an easy clean first prone stage. Instead, I missed three and lost another 33 seconds on the range in addition to the three-minute penalty. Leaving the range I found myself behind bib three, a towering Swedish biathlete, and tucked in behind him. I soon became frustrated with his slow pace on the climbs and made a quick pass, but realized my mistake as he flew by me on the subsequent descent, fast enough that I could not catch his draft. I entered the range frustrated and determined to make my final three laps a better effort on skis and in the range. I hit four of five in my first standing stage and flew out of the range, again passing the towering Swede. This time when he passed me on the downhill I took my first chance to rip past on an uphill. That was the last I saw of him, and, while I continued to lose time in the range, my final three laps were the 12th, 11th, and 13th fastest of the day, respectively. The feeling of crossing the line first, even though I had basically started in front, was special for me and ended up being the highlight of my races in Finland. I ended up shooting (3,1,2,1) and finished 44th with the 18th ski time, but despite the result the race was encouraging and showed me that with continued progress I can ski with the strongest on a challenging course.
The 10km sprint was a bit tougher to swallow. I missed five of my ten targets and finished 63rd, three seconds and three places away from qualifying for the following day's pursuit. Four of the five missed were in standing, my stronger position. Befuddled, I went for a solo over-distance ski through the Finnish countryside the next day. It was just what I needed to clear my thoughts, appreciate the simple beauty of creation, and give thanks for the mere opportunity to ski in Finland.
Pre-race training in Kontiolahti
(screenshot from the IBU Cup promo video)
Photos from an afternoon jog in Joensuu, and our first taste of blue sky in Finland.
The church in Joensuu
When the path hits the lake... ski trail.
Finland.
The next morning my roommate Alex Howe and I awoke at 4:50am. By 8pm we had arrived in Otepää, Estonia, the site of IBU Cup 8 and from where I write. I'll do my best to follow up on the racing in Estonia promptly after I return stateside. I hope the novelty of racing for the USA doesn't wear off anytime soon.
Additionally, good luck to all the racers at NCAAs. Go Cats!
