The clocks have gone back an hour; the morning frost is thicker, and the epic sunrises into the Bow Valley occur every few mornings. It is November, and with that, the start of another competitive season. To the delight of anyone living or visiting Canmore for the early loops of Frozen Thunder, we were treated to nearly 4.0km of early-season skiing. Much of the additional snow was on gentler terrain, offering a more pleasant training experience. There have been some challenging spells of weather, creating soft, wet, and less-than-pleasant skiing conditions, but it is what it is. And it sure beats roller skiing (most of the time). We will get the season's first races as the calendar turns to November. These first races allowed me to play with any changes I wanted to make to my pre- and post-race routines. With less stress about selection or outcome, I'm free to test strategies and approaches. I have the freedom to fail, learn and be better prepared for the more meaningful races once they come later in the season. It is also exciting to get back to racing and testing my ability to perform under any circumstance.
As in the past few years, the season began with Biathlon Canada's World Cup, IBU Cup and FISU Games trials in the first week of November. For the Men, it was a 10km sprint, 12.5km Pursuit and another 10km Sprint. Racing this early is a fantastic opportunity, but I have my focus later in the season and don't have to race everything, so I did the first two races and skipped the second Sprint. A new stock was one of those things I was trying in these early Biathlon races. Yes, I know it was foolish that I put on a brand new stock onto my rifle, and the first time I physically shot it, it was at zero of the first race. This is not ideal; some athletes will spend years with the same stock. It was how everything worked out, and I was looking forward to the challenge of performing with a completely different stock. After the race, the stock wasn't the problem; it was me. I had some issues with my sights during zero that lingered a little for the first bout of the race. That and the fact that I didn't hold for a fraction of a second longer after the final shot (I missed my last shot in both bouts) meant I did not control my performance on the range. That was my test for the day. On the course, my skiing felt better than I expected it to. There is always more to work on and improve, but it went well for the season's first official race.
Two days later, the Pursuit race was held. The Pursuit's four bouts of shooting tend to favour my strengths, and the focus was on improving elements from the previous race, like holding after the final shot for that fraction longer. The Pursuit and the next day's second Sprint had very challenging wind conditions. Wind conditions that I have never experienced before in Canmore. It was variable, gusty at times, while calm at others. The direction was also part of the challenge; in gusts, you had to correct vertically and horizontally, but when the wind died, you had to reverse those corrections—a challenge for all who competed. I had a much better day on the range. I would miss two out of the 20, but both were very close, and I was later told the wind was a major part of the reason for the misses. The feeling on the skis was far tougher than the Sprint race. The soft, wet and slow conditions were not helping, and within the race format, I was caught in a no man's land where the faster skiers were way out front of me, but I was out skiing those behind. I was skiing the last three laps in a lonely gap. Despite the feeling of not being great at all at skiing, I was skiing better. Consistency was higher; technically, I was skiing stronger than in the Sprint. I want to improve aspects that aren't quite at the level I like them, but I'm very satisfied with how I performed in the season's first two races. It has been a solid start.
The next week, I shifted to Cross Country racing with Nordiq Canada's Frozen Thunder races. There were two races: a Classic Sprint in a King's Court format and a 10km Freestyle race. I had physiological testing on the treadmill on Friday, meaning I could only do one of the races, and the one that made the most sense was the Wednesday race – the Classic Sprint. As it happens, that was the race I wanted to compete in. The King's Court format is a fantastic opportunity to work on and develop my weaker sprint skills and tactics. I felt I hadn't spent much time classic skiing, so I had concerns about my efficiency going into the race. But in the last couple of days before the race, I was happy with how the classic felt. I knew my 'feel' for the kick wasn't at its best but was returning quickly. The first hard classic intensity is always a wake-up call to the body, and the next morning, you usually don't feel all that great, but I responded well to the intensity and was set for race day.
The first thing I need to work on is the qualifier, the first race of the day that sets up your seeding for the heats. The qualifier felt hard, a rude awakening for the body. I was satisfied with my performance, which was reflected in a good ranking for the Heats. I could work my way up through the result list. My time between the qualifier and the first heat could have been more efficient. I noted it as needing improvement for the next Cross Country Sprint day. The Sprint course was similar to last year, so I could reflect upon my notes from then, continue using what worked last year, and adjust anything that didn't.
In Heat 1, the course starts from the flat stadium, headed towards a downhill. This flat,
double-pole section is not my strength, and I know it. I do not need to panic about being left behind at the end of this section. It happens in every heat to a varied extent. The next section is two decently steep climbs with a plateau between the two. To me, my race starts towards the bottom of the descent and the transition into the first climb. First, I look at the traffic ahead, where they are skiing, where they might go, and how fast they are. From this, I'm judging where I want to ski and how hard I must go. I don't need to be ahead at this point of the course, but I want to be in touch. The plateau is where I'm looking and figuring out how the heat has unfolded and what my next move is. Will I change tracks and settle in behind one of the other skiers? Find an open track to put in an acceleration or maintain position. My approach to this section is to put myself in a strong position and set up the next section.
Up next is cresting over the top of the climb, going through an intersection, accelerating into a descent, then a rolling section (called the Camel bumps) before a flatter segment. The latter part here is again not an obvious strength of mine. I focus on being as efficient as possible and limiting the gap. With a combination of great skis and good efficiency, I not only stayed in contact, but I also went ahead. It was a good surprise and boosted my confidence as I advanced through the heats. This flatter segment ends with a tight 180° corner into the Lillehammer climb—the biggest climb of the course with the finish line at the top. In the qualifier, I had taken the corner too tightly and didn't accelerate as I could have out of the corner. I could see a wider, hopefully, smoother line in this first heat. Out of the corner, I went for the closest set of tracks and charged upwards. I neared the top of the climb, and I could 'sense' after confirming with a half-glance over my shoulder I was way ahead. So, in a tactical decision, I backed off to cruise to the finish line.
I managed my time much more efficiently between the first heat and the second. For the second heat, that section where I said I didn't need to panic, I was second-guessing myself. The other three were very aggressive off the start, and that might have been the furthest I had been behind after the flat stadium section dropping onto the first descent. I was slightly concerned but had the next few sections to get back into contention. I was right back in the group by the top of the first climb. So much so that I couldn't move around the skier ahead of me on the second climb, so I eased off. One of the skiers was getting away in this heat, so I worked to close the gap through the intersection, the descent and the camel bumps. As we went through the corner, there were three of us in contention. We each got a clear track to the finish, and it was a drag race. I entered the tracks last in third place but caught them and slowly pulled away, earning a second heat win. That took a lot of effort out of me, and I wasn't overly sure how much I would have left for the final heat.
In the King's Court format, the winners move into a higher bracket; the last-place finishers go down a bracket. In the final heat, I would be against the best skiers I had seen that day. After my experience from the second heat, where the others left me for dead off the start, I knew that if that happened again, it wouldn't be as easy to get back. As a surprise, the start was significantly slower, and perhaps I was the closest I'd been to the leader as we dropped into the first downhill. I was still in fourth position but within reach of the others. As we started the first climb, I thought, if they would give me a chance like this, let's see if I can capitalize. Usually, where I was focused on catching up and settling in, I instead went to the outside and went to the lead. With an acceleration on the final part of the climb, through the intersection, I was in a good position, second and setting up well for the final corner and climb to the finish. I was right on the skis of the leader as we entered and exited the corner. As we exited the corner, I thought they were going to the left track; they were that far over. In a sudden move, they shifted back right to the middle track. I narrowly avoided a crash and put myself into the right track. Once I got into that track, it was full gas and go. The skier in third had a great exit out of the corner and now, in the left track, was matching me. We matched each other the entire way up the climb. The only thing that separated us (by what I think was a toe length) was that as the hill levelled out slightly, they switched techniques, and I stayed the same (not that I had any real choice). At the finish line, that was the difference: a lunge by both of us and only a slight margin for me to take my third heat win.
That was my best classic Sprint race on Frozen Thunder. There were a few surprises but great learning experiences. I had the opportunity to try tactics, approaches, and focuses. Even thinking mid-race about a tactic, whether or not I executed the tactic, is a big step. I'm not a 'natural' Sprinter, so I'm still learning to get the most out of Sprint races. The first two weeks of competitions are done, and I'm excited about how they went. There were mistakes and many aspects to improve, but they confirmed that I'm where I want to be. I can take what I learn and the confidence gained from these races going in the next few weeks.
Next week, we have a Para Continental Cup in Canmore, which also acts as trials for World Cup selection. The weekend following, I will have North American and Calforex Cup races. This weekend is the final tune-up before heading to Vuokatti, Finland, for the season's first World Cups in early December.
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