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For Ben Ogden, the strangest change since taking home two medals from Milano Cortina has not been that more people started recognizing him around Vermont.
He admits he is still adjusting to the newfound fame, but that part has mostly been fun. There have been school visits, community events and moments in Burlington restaurants when strangers stop by to say they watched him at the Olympics. After the winter Ogden had just put together, with two silver medals and a historic breakthrough for American men’s cross-country skiing, the attention made sense, even if it still felt a little surreal.
What was harder to make sense of was everything that came next, which has made the last few months a bit difficult to sum up neatly. While Ogden has spent the spring and early summer being celebrated for the best season of his career, he’s also been going through the first major injury setback of his life. One part of the experience has pulled him outward, back into the local Vermont ski community that helped shape him. The other has forced him inward, into the slower world of surgery, crutches, rehab exercises, and patience.
A New Kind of Attention
“It’s been different in some ways and similar in other ways,” Ogden said. “There are more people around Vermont who recognize me now, which is pretty crazy and fun. I’ve been invited to a lot of events, and gotten to go to a ton of schools, and just kind of been in the community a little bit more than normal.”
That part, he said, has been one of the real joys of the post-Olympic stretch. Ogden has always championed his identity as a product of the Vermont ski world, and the last few months have given him more chances to be present in it. Not just as a skier people watched on television, but as someone who could show up, talk to kids, say yes to local events and feel the reach of what happened in Italy.
“Outside of anything athletic related, it’s always a goal of mine to take my position and try to give back to the community as much as I can,” Ogden said. “There’s been a good amount of that, which has been great.”
In some ways, he said, life still feels mostly normal. It is still a Vermont summer. Burlington is still Burlington. Richmond is still close enough to feel like a small ski-world hub. But the medals have changed the way people interact with him, even in everyday places.
“It’s never tiring having people coming up to me and saying, ‘Oh, my son loves watching you,’ or, ‘We watched you this winter,’” Ogden said. “I love that, and it really makes me feel good. People are always, especially here in Vermont, just always so kind and thoughtful with their time and my time, so it’s never overwhelming.”
Still, there is a strange adjustment that comes with being recognized more often. Ogden laughed a little while describing it, not because it is a major burden, but because it is new enough to still catch him off guard. Sitting at a restaurant one time, he said two or three people came over to say they loved watching him race. Then he remembered, in a small way, that he is moving through the world a little differently now.
“You’re in the public eye a little bit more,” Ogden said. “I think you’re constantly reminded that people here in Vermont, especially, recognize me wherever I go. Again, I have no misgivings about it, but it’s hard to escape it a little bit.”
That visibility took on a more formal shape in May, when Ogden returned to UVM for commencement. He graduated from the school in 2022 with a mechanical engineering degree, and at first, he thought the university might just want him to be present or say a few words. Little did he know he would end up as the special guest speaker in front of nearly 3,700 graduates.
“I was like, ‘All right, yeah, sounds great,’” Ogden said. “And then it eventually got like, ‘Oh, you’re going to be the guest speaker,’ and I was like, ‘Whoa.’”
Ogden was characteristically candid with his explanation of how unfamiliar that setting felt. He was not answering questions in a mixed zone, talking through race tactics or explaining what it felt like to stand on an Olympic podium. He was sitting on a stage in front of graduates, faculty and families, waiting through the first part of the ceremony with his own speech still ahead of him.
“I haven’t really learned how to do public speaking properly,” Ogden laughed. “But it was really fun. The sense of relief was just staggering,” he said. “It felt so good. It felt like one of those moments where you feel like you can do anything after finishing something that scares you, and it’s just an immensely satisfying feeling. So it was fun, and I really appreciate UVM for reaching out and thinking of me and having me. That was a really fantastic honor.”
In his address, Ogden spoke about goals, but also about the people who make them possible. It was a fitting theme for an athlete whose Olympic winter was historic on paper, but communal in feeling. The medals were his, and in the team sprint, shared with Alaska’s Gus Schumacher, but Ogden has often framed the breakthrough as something larger than one person.
One Blow After Another
That same idea has followed him through the spring. The medals gave him a larger platform in the community, while the injury reminded him how much he still depends on one.
The knee injury happened on April 10, during what Ogden described as a typical day of spring training, until it wasn’t.
“It was a moment, but it wasn’t like I rode in the ambulance,” Ogden said. “At the time it didn’t really feel like anything bad. I was just spring skiing and doing a hockey stop, kind of, to slow down. I was going pretty fast on my cross-country skis, not denying that. But I just caught some slush and tweaked my knee.”
The first signs were not too alarming. Ogden knew he had tweaked something, but he stood up, tested it and finished skiing. The next morning, though, the knee was stiff enough that he eventually went in to have it checked out. According to the doctor, all the major ligaments were intact, and the hope was that the MRI would rule out a meniscus tear.
It did not.
“At first I was a little bit spooked, but I thought it was going to maybe be a week of slowing down or something,” Ogden said. “Then after I went to the guy, he was like, ‘Oh yeah, if it’s a meniscus tear, maybe it’ll be a month or two months.’ And then it ended up being a complete meniscus tear, so I had to have it repaired, which leveled up the situation even worse.”
Ogden had surgery at the end of April and spent six weeks fully non-weight-bearing on his left leg. When he spoke with FasterSkier in late June, he was about seven weeks removed from surgery and had started a weight-bearing progression, sometimes using one crutch and sometimes none. Even with that progress, it had been a hard adjustment.
“It was a little bit like I just got one blow after another for probably a week there,” Ogden said. “I was definitely pretty down, feeling pretty bummed, especially because it happened just doing something random. It so easily could have been avoided. But then again, stuff happens.”
He’d dealt with illness and little tweaks here and there before, as most endurance athletes do over the course of a career. But this was different. It was his first surgery and the first time he had to take a major step back from the sport because of an injury.
“On the mental side, it’s definitely hard,” Ogden said. “I think that an injury of this caliber would be hard for anybody mentally, just because being on crutches is incredibly frustrating, and it limits you so much. I won’t lie and say that wasn’t hard for me. Those weeks were brutal.”
The hardest part, Ogden said, was not just the crutches. It was the way the injury stripped away the pieces of daily life that usually make him feel like himself. He could still drive, because the injury was to his left knee, so he was not fully stuck in the house. He had physical therapy almost every day, a strong group of people around him, and enough structure to keep his days from feeling completely empty. But he could not move the way he wanted. He could not train the way he was used to training. He could not go outside with teammates and friends to just disappear into the rhythm of a long session.
“The two biggest things were just that I couldn’t really move, I couldn’t really do the things that I like to do, and I also couldn’t train,” Ogden said. “As a cross-country skier, or any type of athlete, really, not being able to do what you do, you quickly start to feel like you’re losing ground. That’s a really, really hard thing.”
It’s left him in a strange middle ground, where he has been through enough seasons, enough ups and downs, to understand that a few months do not define everything. But understanding that and feeling it every day are not the same thing.
“I feel like I’m at a point in my career where I’m better equipped to deal with that than I ever have been,” Ogden said. “But it’s still really hard to sit around.”
Finding a Way Through
One major comfort is that he has not had to figure it out all on his own. Ogden said the U.S. Ski Team’s medical system has been well prepared to handle a knee injury like his, in part because other disciplines under the U.S. Ski & Snowboard umbrella see them more often. Alpine skiing, in particular, has no shortage of knee injuries, and Ogden joked that compared to what some alpine athletes have endured, his injury is “junior varsity.”
That has not made the recovery easy by any means, but it has made the process clearer. From the start, he had a plan, a protocol and a timeline.
“I knew the timeline on day one,” Ogden said. “That sucked, because it was a major blow knowing how long I’d be out for, but now I’ve just sort of had to work with it.”
In some ways, he said, that has been easier than dealing with an illness, where there may be no clear date or progression. A meniscus repair brought bad news, but at least that bad news came with some kind of structure.
The training itself, for now, is limited and not always exciting, but Ogden has filled the space as best he can, with swimming, upper-body strength work and more time on the SkiErg than he would probably care to count.
“I’m able to fill my days with the training modes available to me,” Ogden said. “I still get frustrated. Sitting at the SkiErg, it’s great and it’s something to do, you get the heart rate up, it feels good, but it is just horrendously boring.”
That boredom has been one of the smaller but more persistent reminders of what he is missing. For Ogden, training has never just been about the work itself. It’s about being outside, sharing those hours with friends and teammates, and feeling connected to the sport in a way rehab cannot quite replace.
“So much of what motivates me as an athlete is being outside and enjoying training with friends and teammates and all that stuff,” Ogden said. “You kind of lose it all.”
The Next Step
Still, he has been able to see steady progression in his recovery. At the time of the interview, Ogden was starting to walk more normally again, though he said that process itself felt almost like something he had to relearn. His left leg had lost muscle and range of motion. Once walking felt solid, he expected to add more training options, including the spin bike, then outdoor biking, then eventually rollerskiing.
He hopes to be on snow at a normal time in November, though what “normal” means for racing fitness is still unclear. This season, he said, may become more of a “train into it” year. Rather than targeting early World Cup racing in November, he could end up building toward later points in the season, perhaps after the Tour de Ski and closer to the World Championships portion of the calendar.
“I’m still hopeful,” Ogden said. “It’s a blow for sure, and somewhere unlike any I’ve ever experienced, but I don’t necessarily think it has to be a complete loss. I think I’ll get through it.”
For now, he is trying not to get too far ahead of himself. The surgeon told him to view the recovery on something closer to a year-long scale, not because he cannot train for a year, but because returning fully to where he was in strength and aerobic fitness will take time. Ogden’s hope is to beat that timeline by a few months if possible and feel like himself again by late January, February or March. That would still leave room for something meaningful to come from the season.
“I’ve tried not to put a crazy amount of thought to it,” Ogden said. “I try to just focus on the present with this as much as I can. My goals are to do what I can, try to be patient, and try to feel like I get to that top race form, or something resembling it, at some point in the season.”
That might not sound like the goal of someone who just won two Olympic silver medals. But that is the reality of the spring Ogden has been given. The medals did not make him immune to bad luck. They did not make rehab move faster. They did not make the SkiErg more interesting.
They did, however, give him a new kind of perspective on what progress can look like.
Ogden said he always likes to come out of a season with something to be proud of, something that can carry energy into the next year. This time, that “something” might look different.
“I want to find that something this season,” Ogden said. “Whether or not that’s coming back from this injury a few months ahead of what the surgeon thought I could, or getting a top 10, getting a top 15, whatever, on the World Cup despite a major setback, that’s what I need to be reinvigorated for next year.”
In the meantime, the goals are much smaller. They are also more immediate, and maybe that is what makes them useful.
Rather than sit on the couch and think about missing a year of the thing he loves most, Ogden has tried to narrow his focus. First, he could think about walking again and getting away from the crutches. Then he could think about biking outside. To do that, he needs more range of motion in the knee, more quad strength and more consistency with the everyday work.
The scale has changed, but the mindset is familiar.
“There’s always the next thing,” Ogden said. “It’s the same in ski racing, honestly. It’s the same mindset that you have to take as an athlete. Obviously, I had to take 20 steps back, where instead of trying to get that podium or get that whatever, I’m just trying to get walking. But it’s the same thing, and you still feel good about it when you accomplish something.”
That may be the simplest way to understand Ogden’s first spring as an Olympic medalist. It has been a season of celebration, community and unexpected attention, but also one that has forced him to slow down, start over in small ways and rethink what progress looks like.
The medals are still there. So is the community that helped him reach them. And now, so is the work of getting back, one smaller goal at a time.
For Ogden, the next big thing does not need to be another Olympic podium just yet. For now, getting outside for a bike ride will do.
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