People have long-imagined skiing on the World Cup to be more exciting than it actually is. Though many picture athletic stardom to include invites to raging parties and fans hounding you around every corner, even in a normal year, I’m usually in bed by 9pm. And even in Europe, the land of skiing, we go unrecognized everywhere except a race track. People don’t do this for the lifestyle, they do it for the sport, or at least everyone I know does. Flying down a mountain at 80 miles per hour feels thrilling in a way that cannot be accurately described by anyone, let alone me.
They call World Cup skiing the White Circus, and perhaps rightfully so. Travelling around the world with as much gear and staff as we do is not an easy feat. To the parents who have to find their kid’s gloves after each race, I sympathize, but at least you don’t have to figure out how to get over 10 ski bags and 5 personal bags per athlete to each location (if you look up traveling light in the dictionary I think we are listed under the antonyms). But if we are a Circus, and I do believe the metaphor to be accurate, this year we got a few more untrained tigers running around the tent.
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Breezy talks strategy with one of her coaches.
When things were going poorly in the spring with Covid and we started to fear the cancellation of the season, I remember talking through the tough scenarios with my technician and wondering, if Covid cancelled the season at that point (back in March) how possibly would we be able to try to race again in November? Well it has not been easy on many people’s part.
Here’s a look into my days of racing at the highest level during a global pandemic.
People talk about the bubble, but when you are traveling around you can’t have a true bubble. We knew from the onset that the measures we took are preventative but not foolproof. We do our best — we cannot be perfect.
So, to start my day I wake up in my room, usually without a roommate. We have been trying our best to space everyone out and with most hotels in Europe closed, they have lots of empty rooms for us to use. This year part of getting dressed routine is to select a clean mask before heading out and beginning my day.
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Breezy takes it into the abyss with a casual onlooker overhead.
Usually for breakfast they have some sort of awkward spread out. Sometimes there are two seated at a table, but I think my loud voice has gotten louder over this year as we often make conversation between tables at far distances — hope no one else in the room dislikes our conversations because everyone has to hear them! We wear masks except when we are eating, but I have found some good Etsy masks at this point so I don’t mind so much. After breakfast, I warm up for a workout, again in a mask. I like to look at research and there is actually no evidence that wearing a mask inhibits your ability to breathe enough oxygen. I think it just has to do with humans’ deeply ingrained fear of suffocation that makes us dislike the masks while working out (and otherwise). I occasionally have to remind myself that I’m fine, but it doesn’t bother me even in cardio anymore.
The one upside of Covid for us has been that since resorts are mostly closed to everyone except racers, resorts are more willing to let us train than they usually are. European resorts love racers but they would rather have paying customers than long speed courses blocking half the resort. But when they can’t have the former, they happily accept the latter. Besides having to deal with ski tourers, which are everywhere outside of closed courses, and occasionally get into areas they shouldn’t be, the training has been very good. We do often train with other teams, but stay separate from them, riding different chair lifts and giving space at the start.
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COVID safety has been vital to keeping the season alive.
I have one mask that doesn’t fog up my goggles and I wear it regularly while skiing, keeping another in my pocket for the end of the day — that thing gets very moist! I only take it off to put my mouthguard on and off at the top and bottom of the course. If I am not wearing my good mask, then I pull my mask down at the start of the course and put it back up at the bottom.
As a team we Covid test twice a week. I have done so many Covid tests at this point I have lost track. We must test prior to races and now, also before we cross any country border. We fill out twice daily symptom monitoring sheets as well, as an additional precaution.
It’s hard and every day feels the same. Separated and alone. But at least the sport remains unchanged, fast and beautiful and for that I am eternally grateful.
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All of the hard work eventually pays off.
I think the hardest thing to illustrate is the constant and nagging anxiety that despite my many efforts, the reality that I might come down with, or have close contact with, Covid is pervasive. I know athletes who got it, and — despite their fitness and status as elite athletes — have been sick for a month or more. Even if I was asymptomatic, I would hate to pass the disease on to someone who might not be so lucky. Just as Covid hangs in the air, fear of the virus surrounds me in the White Circus this season.
I love this sport so much and missed it so much while I was injured that despite the loneliness, despite the fear, I still am willing to risk it all for this incredible sport. The thrill of the sport still wipes all these fears away, and being back on some of my favorite tracks is an absolute treat, and hopefully, our precautions can keep the team safe for the season.