I pushed out of the start and skated as hard as I could towards the first gate of the Super G course. The race slope in Crans Montana was quite flat, so there was no time for easing into it. The course set was quite direct but the snow was soft from the warm temperatures. I knew the key would be to not over-ski the easy sections, but also give enough respect where the course took big turns in the unforgiving slushy snow. I dropped into my tuck and settled into the rhythm, my only focus on charging hard while letting my skis run down the hill. That was the goal I spoke about after the World Championships; getting back to skiing with a playful freedom, falling into the flow of ‘doing’ rather than ‘thinking’. I’ve never been a fan of mushy spring snow conditions, but I felt like I was managing it pretty well on this particular run. I was fighting to stay as aero as possible through the turns, to ski the terrain actively, and be tactical where I needed to. It was a clean run, and at last I reached for the finish line and slid to a stop facing the giant screen in the finish. The board read 37th place, 2 seconds behind the pace (and I would eventually drop back to 39th).
Those watching the race would have seen me put my hands to my head for a moment, before bending over to let out my frustration with a loud F-bomb (sorry kids). It was the second day of my race weekend crossing the line and feeling like I had skied fairly well, only to look up and see a very slow time that would land me well outside of the top 30. This was certainly not the bounce-back I was hoping for. The downhill race the previous day was quite windy, and I suspected that may have played into my performance as many of the bib numbers around me were also slow. But the opportunity to move up from bib 45 on the Super G day was definitely there, so it hurt even more to be so far off the pace with a clean run that day. After the turmoil of the last month of racing, I was beginning to feel completely dejected and wondering if I would be able to rebuild my confidence at all this season. With two weeks until the next races in Kvitfjell, I had to find a way to turn it around. Part of me wanted to go home for a week just to get away, but cooler heads prevailed after a discussion with the coaches. We were planning to go to Norway one week early for some training in Hafjell, and they suggested we use the time to focus on GS. It would be a chance to get off the speed skis for a bit, squeezing in some technical work for a change of pace. I liked the sound of that plan, hoping it would be just what I needed to get out of my head.
After landing in Norway, our team also welcomed two of our CAST D athletes: Raphael Lessard and Kyle Blandford. Raph had earned himself his first World Cup start in Kvitfjell after some very strong Europa Cup results this winter, and Kyle was joining for the training opportunity while the rest of his group was at the World Junior Championships. With both Alexander brothers currently injured, our group had been feeling quite small, so this was a welcome addition of fresh faces. I find it easy to forget that I’m the veteran of the team right now at 29 years old. I’m far from being a tired old dog yet, but I have to say it was nice to feel the excitement of the younger guys with us. I also quite enjoyed spending a couple days on the GS skis, something we hadn’t found much time for this season. I have always loved GS skiing, and it felt in a way like a nice mental break from the higher intensity of speed skiing. As we moved over to Kvitfjell for the last regular-season World Cup week, I felt cautiously optimistic that things were moving in the right direction. The downhill course in Kvitfjell is a fun one, and I so badly wanted to be able to tune out the pressure and just enjoy it. I also knew that would probably be the best recipe for going fast again.
Once again we were looking at a questionable weather week, with warm temperatures and high winds expected on the race days. I did my best to put those uncontrollable factors out of my mind, determined not to let them get in the way of finding the enjoyment of the course. The first training run was a positive step, and to be honest it was the first time in a while that I felt more confident again on my downhill skis. I had ditched my usual technical cues in the start gate and told myself to just rip it and have fun. Nevertheless, it was difficult not to feel some pressure as I was on the verge of achieving one of my goals for the season of qualifying for the World Cup finals in downhill. Only the top 25 athletes get to go, and I was sitting around 23rd position with the hopes of two more strong results to lock it in. I knew the Super G would require a big result from a late bib number, which would be a big ask given the deteriorating conditions, but it wasn’t out of the question.
Despite a big mistake in the last section of the course and only achieving a 28th place finish, the first downhill race on the Friday of that week was another positive step. It was the first time in a couple months that I was able to race with a more instinctual feeling again, not thinking too much and simply finding the flow of the hill. I think the conditions were definitely a factor in that race, as it seemed nobody was punching in particularly far until a pocket of later bibs got a reprieve from the wind and made some moves. Not entirely satisfied with my finish, I was determined to do better the next day. The light was quite flat on the Saturday, and intermittent pockets of sunshine seemed to favour some bib numbers once again. Perhaps my desire to get a better result also made me force my skiing a little too much, and unfortunately I ended up getting bumped out of the top 30 despite what I thought was a pretty good run. It was another stinging reminder that you can’t force yourself to go faster, but in the end I was relieved to learn I had held on to my 23rd place ranking and qualified for the finals in Sun Valley. With that weight off my shoulders, it was time to focus on one last push in the Super G.
We woke up on Sunday morning to a deja vu moment from last year; the entire top section of the mountain was covered in a thick fog that ultimately forced the decision to lower the start to the reserve position. It would once again be a sprint race on the lower mountain. With my late start number (bib 47), I was still in my hotel room getting my gear on while I watched the first athletes on TV. Jack was the first of our team to go with bib 5, and I could see immediately from his body language that he wanted to go fast that day. He was attacking the course, driving himself forward over the rolls and fighting to tuck as much as possible. I saw him come down with the green light, and felt inspired by the attitude he brought to that race. I took inspiration from it, knowing it was the exact approach I had to bring on that day to give myself a fighting chance at a top 30 result. The course was getting quite slushy by the time I went, but I tired my best to ski an aggressive line on a clean ski. This time when I crossed the line and saw 29th place, I knew I had at least done everything I could have in those conditions. It wasn’t the big result I needed, but I was the only bib number above 34 to make it into the points. It’s funny how the skiing can sometimes feel so much more rewarding than the result.
In my experience, there is always a strange mix of emotions when the last weekend of the regular World Cup season comes to an end. It helps to end with some positive feelings, but it’s always a bit sad as well. Of course my downhill season is not over yet with the finals on the horizon, and there is some unfinished business in Super G as well. I’ve been itching to get back home after more than two months in Europe, but I’m also looking to improve my Super G FIS points so I won’t have such a late bib number next season. To that end, I’ll be heading to Sugarloaf, Maine, for the NorAm finals. Then it’s a short stop in Vancouver for a sleep or two in my own bed before the trip down to Sun Valley. I’ve heard it’s a beautiful place, and I’m looking forward to another North American event. But to be honest, at the moment it’s that sleep in my own bed I’m most excited for…
As always, feel free to leave a comment below if you’d like to know more.
Cheers,
Brodie
We are cheering you on, Bridge.. Rip it up!