Project Norway: It starts now
In the Pyeongchang Olympics, Norway dominated the medal count with 39 medals (USA: 23), 14 of them gold (USA: 9). Across the six events of cross-country skiing Norway won 14 medals (men: 7, women: 7), only failing to win a medal in one event, the men's 50km, where Sundby finished 5th and Holund 6th (and Klaebo did not race). Keep in mind how impressive this is, especially when you see a Norwegian medal sweep as in the men's 30km skiathlon this year or in women's 30km mass start in 2014, considering Norway gets 4 start spots per event in the Olympics, compared to as low as 7 and as high as 15 (when hosting) on the World Cup.
Sundby, Krueger, Holund. Norway sweeps another XC podium
photo by ski-nordique
How does Norway do it? How does a country with the population of Minnesota dominate the rest of the world in winter sport and, specifically, skiing? Growing up, I watched the Norwegians dominate (it's nothing new - according to Wikipedia, Norway has 107 cross-country medals; we now have 2) and wanted to ski and win for the US like the Norwegians did for their country. I wondered if we could do it. I remember rooting for Carl Swenson during the relay in 2002, when we finished 5th. It seemed incredible, like we could do it, like we could catch the Norwegians. We seemed close. But no one in the US seemed to notice. My friends at Minnehaha Bloomington Elementary, they didn't cross-country ski, let alone follow the 4 x 10m cross-country ski Olympic relay. My only evidence that the US had somebody skiing at a high level was the Subaru Factory Team "Dream Of It" poster hanging on my bedroom wall. Back then I saw Nordic skiing as something my Dad did, something he trained for while drenching an old Nordic track in sweat. I'd sit on the floor (just out of sweat reach) and stare mesmerized at the tapes of Norwegians at the '98 Nagano Olympics - I could hardly make out the commentator's voice as my Dad mimicked Alsgaard's tempo and the Nordic Track went whizz-clank-whizz-clank. I began to follow international skiing when I started to ski competitively in middle and high school but was never captivated by it - no US skier was competing anywhere near the top of the world, so following Minnesota high school skiing in the Start Tribune or on Skinnyski.com seemed more relatable and interesting to me. In the World Cup it was as if the Norwegians lived in a world of their own, as if we couldn't touch them. Coaches and athletes, we all talked about the Norwegians - Marit and Petter were the only World Cup athletes I knew - like they were aliens. Junior Nationals or the SuperTour, that seemed more within our reach than outsprinting Petter or overpowering Marit. The World Cup was another universe, one for non-American beings. The reason why Dæhlie was a great skier, same with Skari, Alsgaard, Estil, and eventually Petter, was almost excused by "well, they're Norwegian." They're different.
Thanks to Jessie and Kikkan's historic gold, we're on our way forward. Norwegians aren't different from you and I. Jessie and Kikkan, they showed that. They proved that. I was tuck jumping for joy as Jessie crossed the line, not just out of excitement for Jessie and Kikkan to win one race at the Olympics, but for the entire US cross-country ski community to have proven to the world that we can do it, that "we can beat these guys" (-Herb Brooks). Jessie and Kikkan would be the first to say their medal was made together with the support of that community. Thank you Jessie and Kikkan for showing us what is possible!
They went for gold and got it. Instant legends.
Getty Images
It's no different in Norway. A medal isn't simply the result of an athlete going rouge, training solo in the mountains for years and returning a bearded skiing sage like Sundby who can stomp-kick up hills like Klaebo and rollerski the fjordwalls like Holund or skate 15km like Krueger. Their medals are the results of communities and an entire country and culture obsessed with the Nordic lifestyle and supportive of training smart, training hard, and doing it in a way that makes it fun and contagious. It's not superhuman individuals or a race of ski-aliens who win medals for Norway but a culture and a certain attitude toward sport and life that sets the platform for Noway's winter-sport athletes to succeed.
On February 8, my teammates Max Durtschi, Paul Schommer and I left the Czech Republic on a flight bound for Oslo. We said, "Project Norway starts now." We spent 5 weeks of racing across Norway, digging our rental van out of the snow again and again, riding it down icy slopes, pushing it up icy slopes, having it break down, pushing our bodies hard until they broke down, resting when needed, and coordinating our travel, wax, scoping, lodging, food, and race entry (not without the help of the generous souls we met along the way). We learned that Norwegians have extra rifle checks, a certain way to zero, light switches on the outside of the bathrooms, their own timing chips that they are required to bring to the race, different waxing setups, bibs for pre-race shooting, and, of course, Vipps (the electronic payment system that proved to be our kryptonite). We made mistakes and at times learned the hard way. Other times we were fortunate enough to be informed by a race official, someone from the local club, or our American friend Jeff to expect that something will be done differently in Norway. We brought our best to every race. We fought our hardest and challenged the best domestic Norwegian biathletes in every race and landed on the podium a handful of times. But results were not what we came for, and they aren't what we'll take away. We came to Norway to improve as biathletes, both in performance and how we manage racing internationally. We weren't on vacation, and we weren't going to Norway to have a good time with friends, although we had some fun times along the way. We went to challenge our best against the best competition we could find, to see what the 'next level' looks like, and then to chase that level with all we've got. Someday, we hope to do what Jessie and Kikkan are doing: set that level for the rest of us to chase. But for now we chase. Although we are no longer in Norway, we're keeping the mission of Project Norway alive and taking what we learned and using it to improve, to chase our best selves. Project Norway doesn't stop, it starts. And it starts now.
After seeing the Nordic and biathlon culture in Norway, I'm no longer surprised at the country's dominance. At the end of this blog I'll summarize why I think Norway is so successful. But first, our story. Our first race weekend we showed up at Bjerke IL (Bjerke sports club) for what we were told was a small event. The race director, Torgeir, downplayed the event, saying the race was more for juniors and was low-key. On race day we drove down a narrow road behind a train of cars led by three galloping horses (no joke). As we approached the race venue, a series of race volunteers stopped us. A few directed us where to park, others handed us a race-day program which included a start list with over 450 names. 450! Some "small" event, Torgeir! We were struck by the professionalism of the event, which became a trend of our race tour. Here, they used chip timing on both ankles; had targets properly reset and points brushed clean by race volunteers; a hard-packed, level firing line; a strict rifle check before and after zero; two separate zero pools; zero times for each athlete; chip timing on both ankles; and an impressive awards ceremony giving away Bjorn Daehlie gear, ski bags, backpacks, and medals to all the junior podium winners. To compare, we don't use chip timing at our US Olympic Biathlon Trials in Mt. Itasca, and the professionalism well surpasses that of our IBU-qualifying races in the US.
Torgeir was our hero in Bjerke and he became the man in our corner at every race weekend. In Molde and Voss, Torgeir arranged waxing for us with Truls Trangstad's Racing Service, who provided us with fast skis waxed with Rex and Holmenkol. Torgeir connected us with Nils, an easygoing chap and pilot who helped to zero us in Karidalen, Molde and Voss. Nils gave us zero corrections using "Starboard" in place of "Right" - a true captain of his ship. Torgeir would check in with us at every race, making sure we ready to race and prepared us with any important race information. By the end of our racing tour Torgeir was running alongside us on the trail, giving us race splits and shouting encouragement and race information to us as we dug deep for the finish. A trip highlight was skiing with Paul on the final lap of the Individual in Molde after Paul had shot 19 of 20. As I tried to bury myself to pull Paul along to a top result, Torgeir sprinted alongside up a hill yelling splits to Paul, "5 seconds down on the win after the final shooting!!!!!" Torgeir was in our corner. We will miss him at US Nationals, but Project Norway starts now. Onward.
Racing in Bjerke thanks to Torgeir (far left)
After racing in Bjerke we spent a week training in Sjusjøen. On our first day at the range, Max and I looked around for where to buy a trail pass and access to the range. We couldn't find anything, so Max flagged down the Piston Bully and asked the groomer about it, if we could train for biathlon at the range. The groomer gave Max a questioning look and said, "Well, do you have a rifle?" Max nodded. "Do you have... ammo?" Max nodded. The groomer lifted his hands toward the range as if to say, What are you asking me for?! Go train! We later reflected on the interaction and compared it to a Norwegian asking if they could shoot hoops on the neighborhood basketball hoop in America. Well, do you have a basketball?!
The training in Sjusjøen is... endless. The snow banks next to Paul's friend Ola's cabin (where we stayed) piled over seven feet high. It's no doubt that spring skiing will last into June! The Sjusjøen trails and race venue connect into the Birkebeiner trails system, together linking thousands of kilometers of groomed trail (no joke - you could ski back to Oslo if you wanted). We had one clear, sunny day - beautiful, and the rest of the days it snowed and snowed - beautiful, but a challenge for the van (shoveling served as extra strength work). The pine trees were coated in snow and looked like white towers as if in the Rudolph Christmas cartoon. Ski-racers and biathletes clad in lycra whizzed through race trails as families putted along on the Birkebeiner trail with backpacks filled with coffee thermoses and packed lunches. The trails were packed with Norwegians even when the snow and wind whipped vigorously (there is a Norwegian saying that says there is no such this as bad weather, just bad clothes). In Sjusjøen I put in a hard training week with four intensity sessions and medium-high volume. It felt good to revisit base training again, and motivation was not lacking in such a place.
This van.
Paul demonstrates the height of the snowdrifts in Sjusjøen
As our second weekend in Norway approached we relocated an hour south to Steinvik Camping in Moelv, nearby the weekend's race venue in Karidalen. We didn't know what to expect and arrived in Karidalen for the first time on race morning. Again, we were blown away. The trails were world class, winding and wide, like a rollercoaster. It was a course that required balance and the ability to conserve your momentum and speed around turns and into the hills' base. It turns out that Karidalen, one of many rural Norwegian venues, has a full 3.3km lit rollerski loop complete with paved biahtlon range (as did 3 of the 4 race venues we visited). It was easy to see how a Norwegian growing up learning to race at Karidalen would quickly develop as an efficient skier AND a fit one. Norwegian courses seem to follow this trend: the courses are challenging to the heart and lungs, but also reward efficient, technical skiing. Norwegian skiers develop their technique accordingly.
Max, Paul, and I skied fast in Karidalen, sweeping the podium in the sprint on day two (Sunday), Max leading the way with clean (0,0) shooting. Paul and I each had 4 misses; I finished second (+1:05) and Paul third. Max was also our top finisher in Saturday's individual, finishing fifth with 3 misses (0,1,0,2) and 1:13 back. I was ninth with 6 misses (+3:51) and Paul tenth with 5 in a field of 17. After the individual we stood around and talked with some of the senior Norwegian racers about the race, when we heard a voice with an American accent say, "Hey guys, can I take your picture?" The voice belonged to Jeff, an American who has lived in Norway for twenty years.
Taking home some spoons! Podium sweep in the Karidalen 10km sprint
Jeff became another hero for us in Norway, both helping us with lodging and as a source of information and fascinating insights into the differences between Norwegian and American culture, providing examples for how passionate the country is for Nordic sport. For example, kids as young as 11 are selected to join biathlon and cross-country boarding schools, with entry being capped at 30 per year (depending on the school) based on performance. Junior athletes are having their rifles tested in cold-chambers every year to find the right brand and lot of ammunition that shoots the tightest group from their barrel. Their training and recovery (workout intensities, morning heart rates, volume, etc.) is all followed daily and analyzed by their coaches. Our US World Cup team may do some of this, but even our national development team does not attack the sport with the same ferocity and professionalism as these Norwegian youth teams.
We first met Jeff when he asked to take our picture after the Karidalen Individual. This is that picture.
After the Karidalen races we recovered for a few days with light workouts from our cabin in Moelv and then road-tripped through the mountainous region of Norway to Molde on the west coast (much of what we passed had "troll" in its name - Troll wall, troll back, troll everything. I guess there's a Norsk legend where trolls turned into these rocks somehow). Molde sits on the edge of a large fjord, across from a horizon of snow-capped mountains stretching as far as we could see to the right and left (this is where champion trail-running and ski-mountaneering athletes Kilian Jornet and Emilie Forsberg live and train). Great weather in Molde meant awe-striking sunsets, maybe the most magnificent I've seen yet. The city was on a slope that reminded me of Duluth, and our Airbnb was perched up high so we would drive down to the flats by the coast to go for our afternoon recovery runs. Molde was also where we learned that Norwegians love tacos. After our first race on Saturday our Airbnb hosts treated us to a feast of "Norwegian tacos", which are tacos made by Norwegians! (they put all the toppings out on the table, and include toppings like chicpeas and olives, which I guess might be a little unique). They were delicious.
Molde, Norway
The race in Molde was the most competitive of our 5-week tour. It was a DNB Norwegian Cup, the highest level of domestic racing in Norway, and served as qualifying races for the Norwegian athletes hoping to make their team for IBU Cups 7 and 8 in Russia. Paul had the race of the tour for us on Saturday, finishing second in the 20km Individual with 19/20 shooting (+ 15s behind a clean-shooting Norwegian) and fast skiing. He beat athletes that have stood on top of podiums on the IBU Cup and had impressive World Cup showings. His result made the Norwegians take our presence seriously. Unlike most of the Norwegian strangers we came across, our competitors were always friendly, wanting to talk about racing, training, and life, and seemed genuinely happy to have us there, mixing it up in the results. In the individual Max and I finished 24th (+6:17) and 28th (+6:40) with 5 and 7 misses, respectively, in a competitive field of 52 seniors. Paul started 30s behind me and caught me three laps in, and so it was the highlight of my race to bury myself and help push Paul to his strong result (with Torgeir running alongside) over the last two laps. In the sprint the following day, Max led the way with a 13th place finish (+1:12) with 2 misses. I was 22nd with 4 miss (+1:51) and Paul 24th (+1:53) also with 4 miss, again in a field of 52 finishers. I was surprised at how many senior biathletes pursue biathlon in Norway. While they face many of the same financial challenges as we do, the cultural support and the logistical ease of pursuing the sport make it doable for athletes to train for biathlon seriously while studying, working part-time, or training full-time.
After Molde it was again time for a recovery day, and we drove our Fiat van back through the mountains of Norway to Jeff's cabin toward the middle of the country, where he welcomed us to stay and train for the week in preparation for our final DNB Norwegian Cup in Voss. It was brutally cold for the first few days of our stay in Jeff's cabin, and I made the mistake of going out to train in -22 C with tired legs and a tired head. I wound up sick the following day along with Max, while Paul escaped to Oslo to visit a friend and stay healthy. Decisions with handling sickness are important to make right the first time. A mid-season sickness can set you back- big time if you don't give it time to heal. The brutally cold temperatures made my decision to rest an easy one, and I took a tortuous four days of recovery in the cabin. Max and I shared in misery for a day or two, but our spirits lifted when we discovered one of those table hockey games where you spin the rod to make the player shoot the puck. We had some epic battles with the 1980 Miracle on Ice game and movie soundtrack playing in the background. Unfortunately for me Max took the series. "If we played them 10 times, they might win 9."
Max tries to heal himself with steam.
If it can power a locomotive then it can heal a dried-out skier
Outside the cabin, itching to get out and head to Voss
Just before Max and I went crazy in the cabin, Paul returned to remind us what sanity looked like. We had gotten over the worst of our sickness and had started training lightly; I took two days of light training before we left for Voss. The drive to Voss was the most beautiful of the trip. We drove over a windy, snow-blown pass where kite-skiers dotted the barren white landscape, and descended through winding tunnels up to 12km long with roundabouts in the middle, all underneath the fjords. When we'd emerge from a tunnel we were met each time with a fresh breathtaking view of rock and water.
In Voss we stayed with friends of mine from my first trip to Norway as a St. Olaf exchange student. It was so nice to be reunited with them, and they were eager to come to our races and cheer for USA, bringing with them USA flags and USA sweatshirts from their trip to the American southwest three years before. We got a good kick out of it and enjoyed having our own "USA!" cheering section in Voss (in addition to Torgeir and Jeff, and the kids that chanted "USA!" at every race). The race venue above Voss boasted the most impressive views of any race venue: pine-dotted cliffsides descending down to Voss sentrum and Voss lake, with round-topped mountains on the horizon. The course in Voss was challenging, with long continuous climbs that made for a tiring 20km. Paul had a respectable race in the 20km Individual on Friday, finishing 14th with 5 misses (+2:59). (Officially this race was a National Championship and so we were classified separately as "guests" and did not place among the Norwegians). Max and I both were hit hard by our first race effort post-sickness. I felt depleted from the first lap, my muscles ached and burned beyond normal, and my nervous system lacked the ability to fire amid the pain. It was my worst race of the season, missing 9 and finishing +8:35. I beat only 5 Norwegians. Max faired only slightly better on the shooting range, missing 6 and finishing +6:04. With our hosts cheering us on the next day, Saturday, and the sun shining bright, we faired better in the 10km sprint, especially on skis. Paul finished 9th with 2 misses (+57s), Max 19th with 2 (+1:38), and I was 31st with 5 miss (+2:15) in a field of 50. My mental energy was sharp and I was able to dig deep despite discomfort. My prone shooting was better-controlled but I didn't respond to the wind as necessary and missed just to the left on each shot.
Max in the start gate in Voss
Photo by Jeff Leopold
Shooting range in Voss surrounded by icicles
Photo by Jeff Leopold
Embracing the last lap pain cave, photo by Jeff Leopold
Lene cheering on Team USA - Project Norway!
Jarle, Lene, and Melvin (fin gutt) with us after the sprint in Voss
Our hosts in Voss went all in on showing their support for Team USA - Project Norway!
Re-energizing with the Voss sun and Melvin the dog
Norwegian tacos!
And so Project Norway had started, and it starts now. We had ups and downs, faced difficulties and were blessed with friends who helped us along the way. We experienced success and failure, and left for home with the knowledge of where we stand as biathletes and ideas for how to better our results and ourselves as athletes. The mission of making these improvements doesn't stop. Project Norway starts now.
And so, my takeaways from Project Norway on what makes Norway so successful:
1. Their entire nation takes pride in their identity as a skiing culture, which results in more kids on skis at a young age. Skiing is a way of Norwegian life, starting with low-key ski-tours with the family on weekends. Belonging to the local ski club is a lifelong endeavor, not simply a team that an athlete is a part of for a short time. The youngest skiers follow the footsteps of the club's Olympians past and present, learning their technique and how they manage training. Many internationally successful athletes still train with the local club and contribute to its ongoing success. Success breeds success.
2. The Norwegian development system is long-term focused. Winning now is not what is most important. The focus is on putting the athlete in a position to become the best they can be. This is reflected in the following:
A. Development of technique and "skiing well" (conserving momentum, skiing efficiently in a variety of terrain and conditions) is valued above getting fit.
B. The athlete's overall health is prioritized. Training hard through sickness or injury that may set an athlete back for the long term is frowned upon, not glorified as toughness.
C. Kids skiing is fun. One Norwegian dad told me how he raised his son to go off a jump near their cabin all day, over and over, because his son associated skiing with fun, and by going up and down he was slowly developing his most efficient technique without formal teaching.
3. Norwegians pursue competition as professionals. If Norwegians pursue a sport, they pursue it with focus and systematically analyze their progress, training, and recovery. The professionalism and organization of the competitions that Project Norway took part in reflect this.
4. Norwegians race a lot. They enjoy it, and each time they race, they get better and they learn how to manage a lot of racing.
5. Ski racing is part of a balanced, sustainable lifestyle. The balance of how training fits into everyday life allows for Norwegians to pursue training for years and years and ultimately get closest to reaching their potential. And it goes the other way: the lessons and values that skiing instills (a respect for the outdoors, a balance of hard work and rest, healthy lifestyle choices) are reflected in greater Norwegian culture.
Next up for Project Norway's Sons of Torgeir is US Nationals in Soldier Hollow, Utah March 29-31.
