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From the FasterSkier archive — posts syndicated from athletes’ and coaches’ own blogs between 2004 and 2012, kept online as published. Current coverage is at fasterskier.com.

Tag: training abroad

  • Closing the Gap: Brain Training

    Closing the Gap: Brain Training

    “Norwegian fjell running.” Team Asker doing some dryland mountain training during a training camp in Norefjell, Norway. (All photos: Maks Zechel)

    Editor’s Note: The following is part of a series proposed by Maks Zechel, a 20-year-old Canadian cross-country skier embarking on his first season training abroad. In August, he recently made the big move to Norway, where he’ll be training and racing with Team Asker for the entire winter. Through these updates, Maks hopes to share his personal “observations, stories and lessons learned” to help close the gap between North American and Scandinavian nordic skiing. Previous posts: #1, #2, #3, #4, #5, and #6.

    ***

    There is something about passion that drives people to push boundaries like nothing else. For many Canadians, this passion lies in hockey. If it’s January and you aren’t within walking distance of at least two outdoor hockey rinks, you probably don’t live in Canada.

    I’ve never been a huge hockey fan, but regardless I still went through a phase as a 9 year old when I practised my stick-handling skills religiously, making marks against the garage door or the basement wall. Black marks and dented aluminum are the proud checkmarks of passionate Canadian youth (and the source of endless frustration for Canadian parents). Canadian hockey drives youth and even adults to fervently practice a sport that only a small percentage will ever play professionally. Even on a weekday night in the middle of winter, if you bring a stick and skates to any Canadian outdoor rink, you will be allowed to join a game of shinny. No matter your gender or age, whether you claim to have been a AAA hockey legend or have never skated before, whether your family has lived in Canada for generations or if you are a newly landed immigrant, Canadians are brought together by something that transcends sport.

    National passion for a sport ensures that a large and diverse percentage of the population will actively pursue that activity in a multitude of ways. It encourages creativity and innovation. Similarly to hockey in Canada, albeit on a smaller scale, there are an astonishing number of Norwegian skiers who dedicate much of their time to just training and racing fast, even without sponsorships or national-team status.

    This creates a field of close to 500 open men at the Norwegian national championships. In the 10-kilometer skate race at last year’s national championships, the top-100 racers were separated by 1:47.6 minutes, the top 200 by 2:33.2 minutes, and the top 300 by 3:31.7 minutes (note that the conditions were fast that day). The medal winners, and many of the skiers far off the podium, were World Cup, World Championship and Olympic medalists (Anders Gløersen won, Martin Johnsrud Sundby was second, Emil Iversen was 11th, Sjur Røthe was 32nd (full race results here). The depth of field at Norwegian and Scandinavian Cups and national-championships races rivals that of World Cup races, with many believing it to be more difficult to crack the top 30 in the aforementioned three than it is at most World Cups.

    Team Asker skiers recover as they run down an alpine ski slope during 10- x 4-minute Zone 4 bounding intervals, with one minute rests in between, at a recent training camp in Norefjell, Norway.

    The success that we see in the Norwegian senior ranks begins with Norway’s junior skiers, and I am lucky enough to be training partners with some of these top-level athletes. One of Team Asker’s most successful junior skiers, Harald, has two medals from last year’s Junior World Championships. To put his level of skiing into a senior-racing perspective, he was 26th in the previously mentioned 10 k race at the Norwegian nationals — as an 18 year old.

    It can be deceptive to see skiers who still look quite young, but to know that they are already skiing fast enough to potentially crack the top 30 on a World Cup. I believe that much of this ability stems from the incredible amount of maturity in Norwegian junior racers, although not necessarily in the traditional sense. Not all of them are obsessive about the small things; I have seen top Norwegian skiers down two Cokes per day at training camps, eat Nutella for breakfast and stretch as little as possible. Their maturity becomes apparent in how they approach training and races, ready to learn to push their bodies in the best way that they can.

    With more skiers, you see more body types and different minds. My teammates have told me to expect many funny styles of double poling when I race Norwegian and Scandinavian Cups this winter. Already at the junior level, skiers spend hours working on their double-pole technique, not just doing exactly what their coaches told them to do, but practising different movements and seeing how it works for them. Double poling is a simple motion, in theory, but with different body types you can have countless different styles of double poling that all produce the maximum amount of power for those individual skiers.

    With Team Asker, we discuss technique with our coach and we do group-technique sessions, but then we are encouraged to try things out by ourselves and see how we can adapt those basics of power transfer to how our individual bodies work. The same goes with training plans. The spectrum of what type of training makes someone ski fast is all over the place, and that is something that many Norwegian skiers seem to accept. Some athletes on Team Asker disagree with certain things that our coach says, but they are not criticized for this and are supported in altering their training as they see fit, although they are encouraged to discuss why they are making these choices.

    In Canada, I have often heard repeated “golden rules” to technique and training, things that are accepted by most coaches across the country. In Norway, I learn a new philosophy every time I speak to a different coach or athlete. For some skiers, it is important for them to train long and slowly in Zone 1 so that they have the energy to focus on interval workouts. Other skiers do short Zone 1 workouts, but push the workouts so that they are in high Zone 1 or low Zone 2, skiing closer to competition speed. Many skiers do sprints with every workout, even long runs, while others add sections of Zone 3 pickups in the middle of their easy workouts. I have a teammate who builds up to a period in the training season where he is doing 30 short sprints per day. I know Norwegian 16 year olds who are training more than 1,000 hours per year, but there are also World Cup skiers who are barely training 600 hours.

    Team Asker finishing a combo rollerski/run workout at recent training camp in Norefjell, Norway.

    Some people think that too much base training (slow Zone 1) is a waste of time, so they do the bare minimum that is required to be able to absorb intensity training and the long race season. Johannes Klæbo’s big breakthrough in the past couple of years is said to have come from an emphasis on strength and sprint training, while Petter Northug has long sworn by doing intervals in “myra” (spongy and uneven bog/marsh), but for some people, those same things will make little difference to their speed on snow. Talent may have helped them in the beginning, but whether it was Klæbo or Northug, they didn’t reach the top level through talent alone, but by perfecting all the things that make them fast.

    There are skiers, some point to Therese Johaug, who many think could do almost any type of training, and they will be fast simply from general fitness, but for most people training is not so simple. Fortunately for us mortals there is no limit to what we can achieve, so long as we are willing to take chances and use our brains rather than just succumbing to that “training junkie gene” that so many skiers possess. Each one of us is so different, that it is not possible for us to do the same things and achieve the same results.

    Over and over I have heard coaches and athletes, who go to Scandinavia for a few weeks to learn the “secrets” of the best skiers in the world, come back and confidently tell us Canadians that “they do the same training as us” and therefore we can be just as fast as them. I agree that we can be just as fast, but from my first three months in Norway, I can tell you that we do not train anything like the Norwegians. We may do similar bounding, rollerskiing and running workouts, but training in Norway is taken to the highest level by the competitive dialogue that takes place among young skiers, old skiers, back of the pack skiers, and top skiers. From my perspective, training innovation and experimentation doesn’t happen in North America on the same small scale level as it does in Norway.

    The go-kart track where Team Asker held “King’s Court” style rollerski skate sprints (8 x approximately 1:30 minutes) during a recent training camp in Norefjell, Norway.

    In Canada we look to those that are better than us, whether they are national-team members or World Cup skiers, and try to copy them from afar. This puts us decades behind the competition. A lot of the technique innovations that we will see on the World Cup in the next two decades will have come from the Norwegian junior skiers of today, but by the time North American skiers take note of these changes, and adjust their training, the next generation of Norwegian juniors will already be working on the technique advances for the next decade.

    When I first came to Norway, the first thing I did was try to copy how the best skiers on the team double poled. I copied them for 12 weeks, but every time I looked at video footage of myself, I still looked completely different. It wasn’t until my coach explained a miniscule timing difference to me that I understood what the others were doing differently. With the switch flicked, my double poling has improved because of things that I could not figure out just by watching others ski. It is this type of interaction, between skiers and coaches of all levels, that causes breakthroughs in technique. Not all club-level coaches in Norway look to the Norwegian national team for advice on all aspects of skiing. Many coaches disagree with the common consensus on technique and training, and this opens up the discussion which is so important to moving forward.

    Most skiers love to talk about technique and the finer aspects of skiing, but when I was in Canada, I found these discussions usually revolved around what faster people were doing. In Norway I find myself having more discussions on what we individually think we should be doing, and even if someone is superior at a certain aspect of skiing, they are usually eager to try what someone else thinks might be better.

    As “Mad-Eye Moody” from J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series would say, “Constant vigilance!” and adjustment are required in all aspects of our training if we want to succeed. We have to seek variation in training, and learn together to discover the things that make us go fast as individuals, or else we suffer individually under the repetition of uniform training that cannot meet all of our needs.

    Norwegian Phrase of the Week:

    Norwegian: “Jeg er ut å mate.”

    Google Translate: “I’m out to feed.”

    True meaning: “I am training a lot.” (slang)

    Team Asker during a long run through the mountains at a recent training camp in Norefjell, Norway.

    ***

    About Maks: Maks Zechel is a competitive cross-country skier who secretly wants to become a professional mile runner. He loves hiking and going on canoe trips with his family, as well as peanut butter cups in ice cream. Johan Olsson is his favourite skier and he hopes to race the Cortina-Toblach stage of the Tour de Ski one day. He enjoys writing about his experiences. Follow him on Instagram @makszechel.

  • Closing the Gap: Lessons in Risk Taking and VO2 ‘Maks’ Testing

    Closing the Gap: Lessons in Risk Taking and VO2 ‘Maks’ Testing

    Team Asker gets together for a group shot in the ski tunnel in Torsby, Sweden. (Photo: Johanna Lier)

    Editor’s Note: The following is the fourth post in a series proposed by Maks Zechel, a 20-year-old Canadian cross-country skier embarking on his first season training abroad. He recently made the big move to Norway, where he’ll be training and racing with Team Asker for the next nine months. Through these updates, Maks hopes to share his personal “observations, stories, and lessons learned” to help close the gap between North American and Scandinavian nordic skiing. Previous posts: #1, #2, #3, and #4.

    ***

    I never thought that on my 20th birthday I would be shivering at the top of a ski resort, a thick fog obscuring the spectacular view of Oslo, listening to 30+ Norwegians sing the Norwegian birthday song for me. But I guess turning 20 was bound to be different!

    “No more excuses,” was my first thought. Gone is the security of being a teenager. Rather than impressing people with maturity, it now feels like it is expected. I think it’s a good thing, but it doesn’t make being an adult any easier. My trip to Norway has been full of moments when I suddenly realized, “Oh, I guess I’ll just have to figure this out on my own.” My parents are no longer always present to make introductions, so now it is up to me to advocate for myself. Risks taken as an adolescent do not come with the expectation to produce results. “I’m impressed,” people say, and they applaud you just for trying. But adults are expected to see things through to completion.

    Team Asker group core session after a ski in the tunnel in Torsby, Sweden. (Photo: Johanna Lier)

    Back on a cold, foggy Norwegian ski slope at the end of August, my teammates and I were about to tackle 6 x 6 minute Zone 4 bounding intervals. In Norway, bounding with poles is called elghufs, or “moose-hooves”. I had never done a bounding workout of this duration and intensity. Despite this, I decided to take a risk and stick with the best runner on the team, who was two and a half minutes faster than me on our last uphill running test. I stuck with him from the first interval, and stayed with him as he threw in big surges on the plateaus between climbs. He added these surges because he is trying to get better at working the flat sections of ski races in the winter, which happens to be one of my goals as well. We did the whole workout together, and I stayed with him until he got away on a downhill and a steep climb at the end. I took a risk in a workout, not caring if I blew up halfway through, and it allowed me to train at a higher intensity than I would have thought possible.

    Earlier this summer I listened to a “TED Talk” by Eduardo Briceño on “the learning zone and the performance zone”. At first it didn’t seem like a life-changing lesson, but since I arrived in Norway, his ideas have led me to think differently about my actions, and in particular, my training. Briceño discusses how people, from office workers to athletes, fail to improve at what they do, whether it is a hobby or a job, because they do not give themselves the opportunity to take risks, make mistakes and learn. In our society, the “performance zone” is the default; this is where we only do the things we are comfortable with, because we want things to be perfect, because that is how we envision our end goals to turn out. Briceño argues that we should encourage employees, athletes, and ourselves, to spend more time in the “learning zone,” where we break our ideal performance into the things we need to work on to get there. It is only here that we get better, because it is here that we allow ourselves to try things that we would otherwise never attempt for fear of failure. In the learning zone, risk and creativity produce the most astounding results. Having reached higher comfort levels, it is possible for someone to apply their repeated failures and lessons-learned to a better end result.

    Author Maks Zechel doing pull ups: “the most popular Norwegian strength exercise.” (Photo: Johanna Lier)

    A few days after “birthday elghufs”, Briceño’s ideas come back to me as I am training in the ski tunnel in Torsby, Sweden. I am back here for a long-weekend training camp with Team Asker. In the tunnel I confront a skiing related fear of mine, developed over a few years of poor performances in classic races. I dread the feeling of my grip giving way while striding up a hill. I am determined to become a better classic skier, the technique I was strongest in when I was younger, so I work hard at anything that I believe will make me a better classic skier: bounding intervals, core, double poling, hours of video technique work, and skiing without poles. If I can ski up a hill legs-only, then surely I can do it with poles in a race, right? Whenever I am on skis, I challenge myself to stride up the steepest hills without poles, but it becomes a challenge that I must perform to perfection, otherwise in my mind I have failed as a classic skier. The pressure that I put on myself leads me to shuffle stiffly and tentatively up hills, not allowing myself any room for error. The result is a poor imitation of the principles of classic skiing, lacking any weight shift, pop in the ball of my foot, or ankle compression. Sure, I made it to the top of the hill, but I didn’t summit the mountain.

    On our first morning in Torsby we have a distance classic ski in the tunnel. Rather than skiing slowly around the tunnel for a couple of hours, our coach has added some variety to our workout: one lap legs-only, one lap thinking about good striding on the hills (not thinking about heart rate), and one lap with a short “race pace” acceleration. The variety in this workout is important in early season skiing so that we can take advantage of our short time on snow to train our muscle memory to ski properly, getting rid of lazy habits developed while rollerskiing.

    Maks Zechel working on legs-only in the ski tunnel in Torsby, Sweden. (Photo: Johanna Lier)

    On my legs-only loops, I decide to take a risk. Instead of pressuring myself to make it up the entire hill, I ski as dynamically as I can, focusing on full commitment to each ski and compressing the wax pocket as if I had perfect grip. Although frustrating, I know that it is better for my development to ski properly up half the hill, than to shuffle up the entire thing. A few times I am rewarded with making it to the top, and other times I almost face plant spectacularly in front of the Norwegian junior national team coach.

    The risk of embarrassment is one that I am willing to take. I made a decision to escape my comfort zone when I left Canada, leaving behind family, friends, and a team that I have trained with for nine years. I left behind the chance at another year of racing on the NorAm circuit and seeing marginal, or perhaps substantial, improvements up the results board. I was sick of feeling like there was an order to things. If I beat a friend of mine during a race, that meant that I had had a good day, but if someone finished ahead of me who I was supposed to beat, then the day was unsuccessful. To me, this type of racing environment was toxic, as I struggled through a season of failed expectations. I am fortunate to have had the means to come to Norway, where simple training aspects, things that had lost their magic over the years, are now bringing back the same giddy excitement that skiing originally gave me. I am in a place filled with potential opportunities, but now I need to have the guts to seize them.

    Team Asker reparing for an intensity workout in the ski tunnel in Torsby, Sweden. (Photo: Johanna Lier)

    While training in Torsby, we were lucky enough to be there at the same time as the Norwegian junior national team and national recruit team (a step below the national senior team), as well as Anders Gløersen, Charlotte Kalla, Stina Nilsson, and Hanna Falk. I watched some of the members of the recruit team doing offset sprints, and it was the fastest I have ever seen someone sprint on skis in real life. Rather than being intimidated, I felt almost relieved to watch some of my idols skiing this fast. The mystery was gone; this is how fast you have to ski to be great, as simple as that, and now I could spend the entire weekend shadowing some of the best skiers in the world.

    On our first day in Torsby I had the opportunity to do two things for the first time in my life: rollerski on a treadmill and take a VO2 max test (maximum rate of oxygen consumption). Naturally, because of my name, I prefer to say it in Norwegian: VO2 maks.

    After an initial stumble on the treadmill, I found it quite easy to classic rollerski on. Before the test started I warmed up on a few different gradients and speeds, unable to stop smiling at myself in the large mirror in front of me. Here I was, rollerskiing in the same laboratory that has tested countless World Cup skiers! The test began at a gradient of 10 percent and speed of 10 kilometers per hour, with the gradient increasing every minute until it reached 18 percent. This felt remarkably steep. From then on the gradient remained the same, but every 30 seconds the speed increased.

    The rollerski treadmill/testing lab in Torsby, Sweden. (Photo: Maks Zechel)

    During testing there is a harness around your waist so that you don’t fall off the treadmill, a heart rate monitor around your chest, and a mask strapped to your head to measure oxygen consumption. It’s a lot of gear hanging from your body, and your head has to remain relatively steady, but once the test started I found that the pain was an adequate distraction from all of this. Unfortunately, during my test a strap on my mask came undone and the mask fell off while I still had something left to give, so I was robbed of the chance to ski until collapsing (the skier’s dream). My VO2 max result was 74.5 ml/kg. Last year Harald Amundsen, the top skier on the team, reached a VO2 max of 85 ml/kg as an 18 year old (an exceptional result).

    Being in a new place, with a new team, and in close proximity to many of the world’s best skiers, there is a lot to take in. It is important for me to absorb as much as I can during my time here, but it is also important to stay consistent with things that I have been working on before I got here. If I jumped to apply every newly learned training philosophy to my training, I would be all over the place and have no chance to improve. I am allowing myself to take risks and make mistakes while staying true to some of the basics that got me to where I am. In the midst of so many talented and competitive skiers, I am trying to create a learning space for myself, devoid of expectations, so that I can learn without restrictions. When winter finally comes, I hope that I can translate my learning to some fast performances on skis. I have had a lot of practice translating after all…

    Norwegian Phrase of the Week

    Norwegian: Kan jeg få skyss?

    Translation: Can I have a ride?

    Norwegian: Kan jeg få et kyss?

    Translation: Can I have a kiss?

    *An important distinction that could add an unexpected twist to your ride to practice, as skyss and kyss sound almost exactly the same.*

    ***

    About Maks: Maks Zechel is a competitive cross-country skier who secretly wants to become a professional mile runner. He loves hiking and going on canoe trips with his family, as well as peanut butter cups in ice cream. Johan Olsson is his favourite skier and he hopes to race the Cortina-Toblach stage of the Tour de Ski one day. He enjoys writing about his experiences. Follow him on Instagram @makszechel.

  • Closing the Gap: Testsamling (Testing Camp)

    Closing the Gap: Testsamling (Testing Camp)

    Asker til topps uphill running test, featuring author Maks Zechel (front) and his teammate Ola. (Photo: Lars-Erik Nygaard)

    Editor’s Note: The following is the fourth post in a series proposed by Maks Zechel, a 19-year-old Canadian cross-country skier embarking on his first season training abroad. He recently made the big move to Norway, where he’ll be training and racing with Team Asker for the next nine months. Through these updates, Maks hopes to share his personal “observations, stories, and lessons learned” to help close the gap between North American and Scandinavian nordic skiing. Previous posts: #1, #2 and #3.

    ***

    Tuesday, Aug. 15, 2017:

    It is late at night when I finally get the message: “Meet at Føyka stadium, 9:00am, for practice, 10x2min zone 4 double poling.” I panic. In less than ten hours I will be meeting my new teammates for the first time. My initial reaction is defensive: “I can’t do this. It’s too late. Maybe if I had more time to prepare…. I’ll just do the workout on my own.” I know what to expect, and it terrifies me.

    Views of the Black Forest, Germany, 2011 (Photo: David Zechel/Dad)

    When I was 13 years old I went to a school in Germany for a year; nobody spoke English and I barely spoke any German. On my first day of school, I walked through the school doors alone. Somebody asked me what my name was, and I replied “I don’t know,” only realizing what they had said after they looked at me like I was crazy. I ended up having an amazing year in Germany and I am still in contact with some of the friends I made there.

    Seven years later, the thought of yet again integrating myself with a peer group in a country where I don’t know anyone and can’t speak the language, makes me nervous. It was time for me to make some decisions, time to step up and seize my opportunities. I did not come all the way to Norway to train in solitude for fear of the awkwardness that comes with learning a new language and meeting new people. This may have been just one practice, but to me it was a decision point on whether or not I had what it took to make this trip successful.

    I went to practice. I arrived 20 minutes early and waited, breathing in the thick air of anticipation. Slowly, the rest of the team started to arrive. I greeted each of them with a smile, a handshake, and “Jeg heter Maks (My name is Maks)… I am from Canada.” Almost everyone spoke English well, and even if they didn’t, we all spoke the language of “I think I’m going to puke” at the end of the interval session. I rollerskied home from training, giddy with happiness. This was why I put myself into these situations that scare me, because the friendships formed and the memories made are more rewarding than staying in my comfort zone.

    Asker til topps uphill run course (Red = very high heart rate, ouch)

    After Tuesday’s intensity workout we transitioned quickly to the team’s second testing camp of the year. The “lactate-party” started on Friday evening with a brutal 5.8-kilometer mass-start uphill running test. The race started with a lap of the track in the center of town, then climbed steadily to the halfway point, where the course entered the forest and followed steep, narrow trails requiring all of my willpower just to keep running. The race finished on top of Hagahogget, a rocky peak with an incredible view over the fjord and surrounding towns. I ended up third, far behind the winner, Erland, who happens to run an 8:50-minute 3,000 meter.

    The next morning we began the second test, a 4.4 k mass-start uphill double-pole race. It was difficult to go from racing at 7 p.m. the night before to racing again at 9 a.m. the next morning, but it reminded me a lot of afternoon distance race starts followed by early sprint qualifiers the next day, something that I experienced last year at U.S. nationals in Soldier Hollow and Canadian Nationals in Canmore.

    Day 3 started off with one of the tests I had been looking forward to the most: a 9.5 k individual-start skate time trial at the Holmenkollen rollerski track. After driving up a long road out of Oslo, I arrived at arguably the most recognizable nordic sports stadium ever built. In the center of everything is the spectacular ski jump. Rollerskiing over the top of the course, you are treated to a panorama of Oslo, the Inner Oslofjord, and all the surrounding towns. Warming up around the course brought me back to the 2011 World Championships, which took place at Holmenkollen. I watched the races live on TV while I was living in Germany. There are many iconic moments from that World Championships that I remember clearly to this day (although I must admit, I regularly re-watch the races).

    As we are rollerskiing, my new friend, Erland, points out special parts of the track. The last hill before you enter the stadium is called “Hellenbakken,” named after Swedish skier Marcus Hellner and the attack he made on that hill which won him sprint gold over Norwegian favourite Petter Northug in front of thousands of Norwegian fans. I ask Erland if the stadium is called “Harvey stadium.” No answer, but he laughs amiably. Now, rollerskiing exactly where it all took place, I can see the asphalt turn to snow and Alex Harvey crossing the finish line. He puts a finger to his lips in response to a stunned and silent Norwegian crowd as he and Devon Kershaw take team sprint gold ahead of Norwegian legends Ola Vigen Hattestad and Petter Northug. The crowd may have been speechless, but 13-year-old Maks was yelling in excitement at German Eurosport.

    The Holmenkollen rollerski course is filled with the types of steep climbs common in winter ski races, but almost non-existent in summer rollerski races. There were two or three hills per lap where I was forced to offset, something that I have never done before in a rollerskiing race effort. This type of dryland training is invaluable to winter racing success.

    View from Hagahogget, end of the uphill running test. (Photo: Maks Zechel)

    With the morning time trial finished, we completed the testing camp with a flat, double-pole sprint qualifier in the afternoon. Four race efforts in three days, and five intensities in a week; not a gentle introduction to Norwegian ski training. The amazing part about this weekend was having many strong teammates to compete with. Everyone has different strengths, and depending on the test, I had between five and 10 skiers with whom I was competitive. I did not have the best four race efforts of my life, but I am excited to be training with people who are around my speed, and to have others who are pushing all of us to reach new levels.

    Some schools of thought may disagree with cramming this many intensities into such a short period of time, but Team Asker puts a big emphasis on recovery after these intensity blocks. Athletes only ever post on social media about their most “epic” workouts, so it is easy for skiers to think that they need to be doing these ridiculous workouts all the time. I think it is important to recognize the purpose of these workouts, and also gain an understanding of the training that surrounds these big workouts. With regard to Team Asker’s testing week, I appreciated becoming familiar with the difficulty of back-to-back race efforts — the refocusing and the physical shock that one experiences from competition — all in the risk-free safety net of summer training. The next testing week will take place in five weeks’ time and I am excited to give it another shot.

    I have to acknowledge how welcoming and kind the Asker Skiklubb community has been. I have already made many friends and have talked to numerous parents who have sought me out just to get to know me. It is never difficult for me to find a ride to training with a teammate, and everyone helps me feel comfortable, while at the same time pushing me to learn Norwegian and become a bigger part of the team. I am having no difficulty working with the coaches, who are excited to have me join the team and want more skiers like me to come train with them as Team Asker grows.

    Have I convinced you yet?

    Norwegian Word of the Week:

    Hjem. Home.

    Due to popular request, a picture of another, smaller, roommate of mine. (Photo: Maks Zechel)

    About Maks: Maks Zechel is a competitive cross-country skier who secretly wants to become a professional mile runner. He loves hiking and going on canoe trips with his family, as well as peanut butter cups in ice cream. Johan Olsson is his favourite skier and he hopes to race the Cortina-Toblach stage of the Tour de Ski one day. He enjoys writing about his experiences. Follow him on Instagram @makszechel.

  • Closing the Gap: Summer Skiing

    Closing the Gap: Summer Skiing

    August skiing on the Dachstein Glacier in Austria as seen in 2015. (Photo: Claire Grall)

    Editor’s Note: The following is the third post of a series proposed by Maks Zechel, a 19-year-old Canadian cross-country skier embarking on his first season training abroad. He recently made the big move to Norway, where he’ll be training and racing with Team Asker for the next nine months. Through these updates, Maks hopes to share his personal “observations, stories, and lessons learned” to help close the gap between North American and Scandinavian nordic skiing. Read Post #1 and Post #2.

    ***

    Arrival.

    My landlord greets me warmly at the bottom of the driveway as soon as I step out of the taxi. In his mid-70s, he doesn’t even give me a chance to protest as he quickly scoops up my heavy ski bag and staggers up the steps leading to the house. He’s fit, and in the coming days I see that he goes running, kayaking or rollerskiing every day, while his wife goes swimming. After unpacking my things I am treated to an evening meal that includes brunost (Norwegian “brown cheese”, it’s soft and sweet) and smoked salmon. Later I am shown where to put my bike in the shed. Wooden skis hang in the rafters, the same ones he used to compete in the Holmenkollen 50-kilometer race in the 1970s (this was before it was a designated World Cup, but it was still a prestigious event). It’s like finding a pair of skates in my grandfather’s attic, and discovering that he played in the NHL with them. Welcome to the home of cross-country skiing.

    And what is more Norwegian than skiing in the summer? My arrival in Norway coincided with the time that most Norwegians go on holiday. Team practices were suspended for a couple of weeks so I decided to take a trip of my own to nearby Torsby, Sweden. This is a small town that is known to skiers around the world for its partially underground ski tunnel. A few other well known ski tunnels designated for cross country skiing, are: Oberhof (Germany), Toksovo (Russia), and Vuokatti (Finland).

    Time spent on snow becomes crucial to a skier’s success as they enter the junior and senior level, and skiing in the summer grows in importance. Summer is an expensive time to get on snow for many, but it is extremely valuable. Skiing in the summer allows athletes to put in big hours of volume and quality intensity workouts that are harder to fit in closer to the race season. It is easy for skiers to get excited in the fall and early winter as we finally get on snow.

    As the race season draws closer, it is common for skiers to frantically put in huge volume and many hard workouts in the short periods that they are able to ski. It is frustrating when fall arrives and you go from great summer fitness, to suddenly feeling that your dryland training is not directly translating to good technique and shape on skis. Nevertheless, trying to fix all of this too quickly before the first races in December can ruin your entire race season if you burn yourself out. One solution is shifting some of that on-snow work to the summer, when it is easier to absorb a lot of training with the absence of school and races and the presence of sunshine and Vitamin D.

    I have had three different summer skiing opportunities over the last three years, and I have compared my experiences for your benefit:

    The ski tunnel in Torsby is easy to access and great for a short or long stay due to the excellent training variability. Besides the tunnel, this includes a rollerskiing track, biathlon stadium (outside and in the tunnel), extensive running trails through the surrounding hills and forests, and a fully equipped gym attached to the tunnel.

    Inside Sweden’s Torsby ski tunnel. (Photo: Maks Zechel)

    The ski tunnel is one loop with a wide “stadium” area at the start. The entire loop is a concrete tunnel and the temperature is kept around -5 degrees Celsius (23˚F). The loop has two hills per lap, which are steeper in one direction and more gradual in the other, making for a great place to work on striding. Most senior men would one-skate the hills at race pace, but they are still steep enough for offset technique work at lower speeds. I was thrilled to be on snow for my first few five–minute laps, but after approximately 150 laps in three days, it became less exciting. The “eurobeats” playing in the tunnel were entertaining at the start, but one can only listen to “Despacito” so many times…

    While in Torsby, I stayed in a room at the Valbergsängen Sporthotell (a six-minute walk from the tunnel). Valbergsängen offers the option of staying in a hostel for a reduced rate where you are given your own room in a house with a bathroom and kitchen that are shared with other guests, or you can stay in a hotel room where you have more privacy and breakfast is included. You can even choose between the two if your Swedish is good enough. Unfortunately I missed this expensive difference, and without a kitchen, ended up making creative “meals” on my desk out of tuna, cheese, beans, peanut butter, and an assortment of bread and vegetables.

    Outside the Torsby ski tunnel. (Photo: Maks Zechel)

    I returned from Torsby, after twelve hours spent skiing loops in a “bunker”, to discover that I had a new roommate. I was sitting on my couch working on a blog post when I heard a noise that only your average-sized mouse should make when hitting the floor. I looked up and, with a jolt, realized I was looking at a spider almost the size of my hand scuttling towards my fridge. In that moment, I decided two things: one, I did not want a roommate, and two, this spider was too big to tackle with a tissue. I jumped up and grabbed my broom handle from the corner (coincidentally this broom handle doesn’t have a broom on the end of it, something that will likely be an issue at some point in my stay here). When I looked up, he was gone (I say “he”, because I am praying it is not a female about to start a family in my apartment). I slept restlessly that night. A week later, after discovering that this is a common Norwegian house spider, I am now in the acceptance stage, and I hope that the two of us can coexist peacefully for the next nine months. If not, one of us will have to leave….

    Norwegian Phrase of the Week

    Norske: Jeg sølte en stor beholder med yoghurt i melkegangen. Jeg beklager så mye.

    English: I spilled a large container of yogurt in the dairy aisle. I’m so sorry.*

    (*True story of my first few hours in Norway, unfortunately.)

    Maks Zechel in the ski tunnel in Torsby, Sweden. (Courtesy photo)

    About Maks: Maks Zechel is a competitive cross-country skier who secretly wants to become a professional mile runner. He loves hiking and going on canoe trips with his family, as well as peanut butter cups in ice cream. Johan Olsson is his favourite skier and he hopes to race the Cortina-Toblach stage of the Tour de Ski one day. He enjoys writing about his experiences. Follow him on Instagram @makszechel.

     

  • Closing the Gap: Meet Maks Zechel, A Canadian in Norway

    Closing the Gap: Meet Maks Zechel, A Canadian in Norway

    Author Maks Zechel hiking in Canmore. The 19-year-old skier recently left Nakkertok Nordic in Ottawa to spend the next ninth months living and training in Norway. (Courtesy photo)

    Editor’s Note: The following is the first post of a series proposed by Maks Zechel, a 19-year-old Canadian cross-country skier embarking on his first season training abroad. He recently made the big move to Norway, where he’ll be training and racing with Team Asker for the next nine months. Through these updates, Maks hopes to share his personal “observations, stories, and lessons learned” to help close the gap between North American and Scandinavian nordic skiing.

    ***

    Intro

    I am a 19-year-old Canadian cross-country skier who moved to Asker, Norway on Aug. 1, 2017, to pursue my goal of qualifying for, and being competitive on, the World Cup circuit in the coming years. The World Cup is a big stage, one that I am not even close to being ready for. Many North Americans, if given the chance, race World Cups because it is a wonderful opportunity that is almost impossible to turn down. But for many skiers, these chances do not lead to further success because they are not prepared for the intense level of competition that is World Cup ski racing. One of the issues is that North American skiers do not develop in close proximity to the world’s best skiers. We don’t know how fast a top World Cup skier races because we are never in the same races. Norwegian skiers are exposed to this level of skiing, even just through observance, during their entire ski careers.

    This is the introduction to my series of observations, stories, and lessons learned as I live in Norway and train with Team Asker for the next nine months. I want to make it easier for other Canadians and Americans to come to Norway by making as many connections as I can and I hope to make them feel a little bit closer to the environment that the world’s best skiers grow up in. I am here to be in races that have a depth going all the way from your average junior skier to last weekend’s World Cup medalists so that I can attempt to pick away at the visible steps that lead to World Cup success. If we can be a bigger part of the Norwegian ski scene and see the environment that produces skiers like Martin Sundby and Heidi Weng, maybe that will erase some of the barriers that we see when trying to chase down seemingly “otherworldly” athletes.

    Post 1: Why Norway?

    Maks Zechel finding his name all over Norway. (Courtesy photo)

    I just moved to Kenya to pursue my dream of running a sub-two hour marath– I just moved to Norway to pursue my passion for competitive cross-country skiing. Just two days have gone by since I arrived, and I already love it here.

    In Asker, Norway, my name is written in greeting on signs all over town! Well, maybe they are not greeting me. It is actually one sign by the beach saying that you can only park there for a “Maks.” of three days (maximum=maksimum in Norwegian), but hey, it is a step up from people thinking my name is a typo.

    My name is Maks Zechel, and I am a Canadian skier who is made unusually happy by Norwegian signs. I learned how to ski at Cypress, just outside of Vancouver, at around the same time that I started walking. Since then I have lived in York, England; Zurich, Switzerland; Kingston, Canada; Freiburg im Breisgau, Germany; and most recently, Ottawa.

    I started racing with Nakkertok Nordic, based just outside of Ottawa, when I was 11 years old. Once per week, my parents (both avid skiers) younger sister, and I would drive two and a half hours to Ottawa from Kingston so that we could all go skiing and I could train with Nakkertok. Being the biggest club in Canada, Nakkertok made me fall in love with skiing, as I always had one or two dozen skiers my age to train with. There is not much skiing in Kingston, so once I graduated from high school I moved in with some friends in Ottawa and took advantage of training with teammates and getting on snow more than once per week.

    Over the past two years, I have studied part-time at the University of Ottawa, raced in Switzerland and Austria, skied on the Dachstein glacier in August, skied at Sunshine (near Canmore) in May, raced in Park City, trained and raced in Silver Star, and had various other amazing opportunities all over Canada and the U.S. All of this thanks to my incredibly supportive parents, who somehow rarely get frustrated by how excited I get over World Cup predictions based off of Lysebotn Opp results, or how this insignificant change in my double poling is going to make me race like Alex Harvey. As you can see, I like skiing…

    Maks Zechel and friends skiing in Campra, Switzerland, this past February. (Courtesy photo)

    Coming to Norway is something I have thought about for the past two years. I have come here with the goal of learning as much as I can from training and racing with the Norwegians. This season I will be racing at the Scandinavian/Norwegian Cup level and focusing on my personal development.

    As many Canadians can attest to, it is hard to go from racing solely in North America to racing on the World Cup. European ski racing is unrivaled by anything we see in North America and — because of the distance separating us — we are not often exposed to that level of competition. By familiarizing myself with the European competition atmosphere, I hope to set myself up for success and show others back home what I have learned. As a first-year senior, I still have far to go, but I am here to learn and hopefully improve. Getting a start on a World Cup is not an opportunity that many Canadians receive; if I ever get such a chance, I want it to feel like a step, not a near impossible jump, up from my regular races.

    Another reason that I have moved to Norway is, strangely enough, to reduce my skiing costs. In Canada it costs a ridiculous amount every year to fly to early season skiing opportunities, to train with other fast skiers at camps, and to attend as many high level races as possible. Despite all of these flights, I have still found it difficult (even as a junior) to fill my race calendar with enough opportunities to race at a high level. In Canada, the entire season is mostly centered on our World Junior/U23 qualification races that happen in January. Before that, we have two NorAm race weekends that happen in December. Everyone gets fired up for these fun and exceptionally well-organized races. However, once January is over and you have not qualified for anything yet, there are few races with deep fields left until Nationals at the end of March. Some opportunities exist, like SuperTours and Carnival races in the U.S., but they are infrequent, far away, or they overlap with Canadian races.

    In Norway, once you have bought your plane ticket, there are regular high-level races, within driving distance, from mid-November until mid-April. The fields are deep, with most of the Norwegian World Cup team racing the Beitostølen Scandinavian Cup in November, and you are paying for a weekend trip within driving distance instead of flying away for ten days in Park City. Food in Norway has so far been reasonable; some things are more expensive and you should not expect to be buying “Costco-style”, but you can eat well without breaking the bank. Rent is expensive in some parts of the country, but through connections and a bit of luck you can make things work. I was particularly lucky and am paying $634 Canadian dollars (about $501 U.S.) per month for an adequate basement apartment.

    Planning my trip to Norway was filled with days of excitement, but also with days of doubt that things would ever work out. From the start I knew that I was going to see this through to the end, so with a lot of willpower, and even more help from others, I am now finally in Norway. In my next post I will share my first impressions of Norway and explain how I was able to make it to Norway and join Team Asker, my new ski team!

    Norwegian Phrase of the Week: “Hilse på!”

    = What you say to a dog if you want to shake its paw. Literally: “Greet”

    (Lesson brought to you by Kira, the dog who lives upstairs).

    ***

    About Maks: Maks Zechel is a competitive cross-country skier who secretly wants to become a professional mile runner. He loves hiking and going on canoe trips with his family, as well as peanut butter cups in ice cream. Johan Olsson is his favourite skier and he hopes to race the Cortina-Toblach stage of the Tour de Ski one day. He enjoys writing about his experiences. Follow him on Instagram @makszechel.

  • Summer Training In.. Jilemnice, Czech Republic, with Jan Čech and Nick Lovett

    Summer Training In.. Jilemnice, Czech Republic, with Jan Čech and Nick Lovett

    Some things are the same everywhere: a mostly junior training group after a rollerski workout in the Czech Republic. (All photos courtesy of Jan Čech)

    For almost as long as Nick Lovett has been skiing at the University of Alaska Fairbanks (UAF), he has been thinking about how people train in other parts of the world.

    This summer, the Wyoming native went on a trip to find out, visiting teammate Jan Čech at his home in the Czech Republic.

    “I have been roommates with Jan for two years, and have been considering training with him in Czech for just as long,” Lovett wrote in an email. “I thought it would be a good experience to go somewhere new and see how training works somewhere else. I would say my decision was half for the training aspect, and half for the travel opportunity. I also traveled to Norway, Germany, and Scotland while away this summer.”

    https://www.instagram.com/p/BUbn9oIgLcL/

    That also included visiting teammate Ann-Cathrin Uhl in Germany, and UAF teammate Seiji Takagi joined part of the trip as well.

    So what did he find? Both Lovett and Čech, both 23 and seniors at UAF, answered some questions over email about summer training in the Czech Republic. The interviews have been edited and condensed.

    Čech working hard in the Czech Republic. (Courtesy photo)

    FasterSkier: Jan, where are you based this summer, what part of the Czech Republic? Is this the same area you grew up in, or is your training base away from your family home?

    Jan Čech: My base camp is in Jilemnice, the northeast part of Czech Republic, close to Giant Mountains. I was born here and I went here for sport elementary school, and high school focused on sport education. Now I train with my brother’s group — he is coach at the high school above, as well as a coach of the Czech junior national team for cross country skiing.

    FS: What is that part of the Czech Republic like? How is the landscape, what do people do there?

    JC: Because are where I live is right under mountains, the landscape is rolling with numerous of tree-covered hills. It’s perfect for running and biking. People here are big fans of any sport and most of them spend weekends in the mountain, hiking, climbing, or biking in the countryside.

    FS: Do you have a team that you are training with, or are most of your training sessions alone? How well do you know the other athletes and are they at a similar level to you?

    A rainy rollerki in the Czech Republic. (Photo: Jan Čech)

    JC: Most of the time I train with my brother’s junior group. The guys are fast — some of them attended World Junior Championships in Soldier Hollow, Utah, last season. So they are good training partners. Also sometimes I drive to the rollerski track an hour away from town, and there I can train with men from the national B-team who are my friends. I competed against them before I came to Fairbanks.

    FS: Nick, did you spend some time training with this group, and how easy was it to join them?

    Nick Lovett: It was as easy as possible for me to integrate, but there were some challenges. Aside from Jan, there were very few other skiers or coaches who spoke fluent English. This was the most challenging part as we tried to communicate some complex technique ideas with less than ideal words to use. While the language barrier was a challenge, I still feel I was able to learn and accomplish enough to fit in well. 

    FS: How do you design your training? Is it based on a plan from Nick Crawford at UAF? Are you adapting it at all to be able to match with other people/groups you might have opportunities to join?

    JC: I train with the team in my hometown so I can have training partners, especially during interval sessions so I can push myself harder. Then I try match the intensity and volume hours from Nick’s plan. I also keep doing the UAF strength system whole summer as well.

    FS: What are some of the differences between Czech training and American training?

    NL: I would say there were some differences, but overall it was very similar to what I expected and what I have experienced here. The most notable difference was the emphasis that was put on general athleticism. While in the U.S. most workouts are all ski-oriented, some workouts there incorporated elements of gymnastics and track running.

    Čech, seen from the dashboard of a coach’s car, has the road to himself. (Courtesy photo)

    FS: What’s the hardest workout you have done so far this summer? 

    JC: My hardest workout this summer so far was uphill run time trial, which I do every year since I was 13. So that’s the best way how to test my fitness level for me.

    FS: Are there any absolute favorite places to run or bike or rollerski? 

    JC: I believe my area is a great place to train. We have lots of opportunities to go mountain biking or road biking for up to four hours, which are amazing workouts and we bike as a group of 15 people. Also we have many country roads with new asphalt, which connect a hilly rolling loop of about 50 kilometers. That is great for classic OD’s [over-distance].

    NL: Jilemince was a beautiful place to train. There were ample trails to run on, and some very quiet roads where one could ski for 2.5+ hours and never repeat the same asphalt. There is also a rollerski track and biathlon stadium currently under construction in Jilemince which will be an incredible addition to the town as a training venue.

    FS: What is the best part of Czech summer, aside from training?

    JC: The best part of summer in Czech are my evening walks with my sister to the old town square, which has buildings over 700 years old and great chocolate factory near by.

    FS: Nick, where was your favorite place you visited?

    NL: My favorite place we went was the city of Prague. It is an incredibly beautiful old city, and I just loved being there. Also we did some long runs in the mountains on the Czech-Poland border. I am from Jackson, Wyoming, so I loved being in the mountains and it made me feel closer to home there.

    A workout in the mountains on the Polish border. (Photo courtesy of Jan Čech)
  • The Post-Grad Trip to Scandinavia

    The Post-Grad Trip to Scandinavia

    Part One – Before You Go

    Recently a potential six-week stay in Scandinavia for our team has been occupying a lot of my planning time. We have a time block, we have the school’s blessing, we have some connections, and we have enthusiasm for the idea. Still, there is a lot to pull together; the usual essentials like money, lodging and transport.

    The most important planning I have been doing, though, is laying out goals for the trip, locations that contribute the most, contacts to cement and develop, and preparation of the team for the time there. This is a fun and educational process, but often the part of planning that gets short shrift.

    Over the past years I’ve had the good fortune to lead at least 14 different ski-focused trips to Sweden and Norway, and it occurred to me the other night that maybe I should try to share some “Before You Go” thoughts, stuff that might be useful to individuals thinking about a PG year, or a summer training course, or attending school and skiing in Scandinavia.

    These are reflections only and I suppose they are directed mostly towards juniors and U23 skiers. Parents might find something here. It could be they might help add things to the check list or suggest a fresh idea. My primary reason for sharing them is to perhaps help make the trip a success by eliminating a common myth and identifying some questions that need answers before setting sail.

    In deciding to take a year off from the usual North American routine one encounters a process not unlike goal setting for a race season or mastering another skill set.

    Initially the goal is pretty vague: “I am going to spend a year in Norway and just ski!” I know some kids who have gone there with only that for preparation and it worked, but usually that doesn’t lead to the best trip.

    Before you even get to that point you need to do a little work on “Why, When, Where and How” you want to go. Next, if you are committed to making the trip a success along the lines you have set out, you need to prepare. Of course very little will go exactly as you plan it, but having the plan and preparing for it will also leave you in much better position to deal with change.

    Myth Busting – the “Why?”

    Why do you want to go? For skiers this one usually is answered by, “I want to get faster.” It is a good reason to go, but it has to be in perspective.

    This is the first place to start with a dose of realism. The Norwegian and Swedish juniors get faster the same way we do; they work their tails off. There is no magic in the air, no wand that comes down softly while you sleep and “Poof!” takes 30 seconds off a 10 k time.

    Understanding and being ready to jump into the work, and to chase kids who are a lot faster because they have chased kids who are a lot faster is essential to reaching that part of “Why.” Don’t think you will go to Scandinavia and come home to immediately crush your competition. Likely you won’t, but if you work as hard as the natives do you might see a pretty distinct incremental improvement over time.

    There are subsets of answers to the “Why” question and they too are important not to consider. They may very well help determine answers to “Where” and “How”. Among these are a desire to study: the language, sport physiology, coaching, or less specifically, to put oneself in school in order to establish some daily structure, a desire to experience a different culture, a hope to see and live in a specific new place.

    At each point along the way here we want to stop and perform a reality check and to see how well we may have thought about the things that might not work out. Do we really want to go to school? If not what are we ready to do? It is OK to go to a training camp and take naps in the middle of the day, but that only is good for about seven to 10 days. Then we need a life.

    What will you do if you are not in school? Really. “Hang out” doesn’t cut it. If you don’t have an extremely fat wallet, “hang out” won’t be in the picture anyway. So what will you do? Travel? That cuts into training pretty hard, and it costs money.

    Being a free loader works for a while, but it isn’t a way to create a situation to which you can return over the years because you have been a good guest. Work? Paying work is hard to find in Scandinavia now. Eastern Europe has set a lot of people loose and willing to take the low paying jobs. You might find something on a farm or in a shop, but again it won’t fit too well with training.

    Where and how do you want to live? Apartment? Alone? With a family? With other skiers? If the training is the motivation make plans to facilitate the training situation. In my experience the best ways to do that is membership in a local club, time at a local school or participation in a well-connected program from home.

    The Questions – When? Where? How?

    The question “When” is pivotal as well. We can attach the question of “how long?” to the question of “When?” When and how long? During high school? The year after high school? Between freshman and sophomore college years? Summer, fall, winter or spring? Training or racing season? A month, 90 days, a full academic year?

    Over the years my own enthusiasm for life and skiing in Scandinavia has probably helped to lead some kids down a primrose path that didn’t work out as well as we hoped. I feel badly about that and for that reason I have tempered things a bit and I run through the reality checks more often before I hand out any thoughts.

    Again the idea here is to help make these trips work. I have come to appreciate the shorter trip initially; a time period that is long enough to settle in to a bit of a routine, to become acquainted with people and place, to get a feel for the working of the language but not so long that it requires a special visa, or puts the demands on time that loom up as “What do I do now?”

    Too long a trip and one without the variety and society that a school situation provides can rob energy and enthusiasm. In the worst cases the empty time can send kids into a real homesick tailspin. A little of that is natural, and a constructive learning experience but an over dose ain’t good. Here is a dark little picture to keep in mind:

    You are in Central Norway, latitude 63.5 degrees north. It is October and you have been there for two months. You have some friends but you are not the “new kid in town” anymore and they have started talking more Norwegian among themselves, and do not come find you quite as often. The language has eluded you and now when you hear it, you shut it off.

    You have started to play solitaire and watch movies on the computer. You have not yet spoken to another person today. It is raining and this afternoon at 3 p.m. it is damn near full dark. You need a head lamp to train. Boiled potatoes have taken on a dimension of terror. You miss your dog. Facebook makes it worse.

    You are always the last to get home, which is in the basement of a house. Both your roommates are Norwegians and they have known each other for years. They are top juniors in the district and you struggle to keep up in Level 1 workouts.

    It is raining harder and it is cold. You really miss your dog. It doesn’t rain in Aspen in October. You start to identify with the Norwegian painting “The Scream”, and idly price tickets to Denver on Kayak. You skip the workout. In fact you have skipped the last three workouts. No one seems to notice.

    If you are prepared for this and you weather it, it does indeed build character. However, this is not where you want to be. If you are not prepared, chances are the ship could go down with all hands.

    This sort of grim scenario doesn’t play out often on a shorter trip, and the tastes of it serve only to prepare you better for a longer trip next time. For the first trip, take the one- to three-month idea into consideration. There are great arguments for almost any time of year.

    Summer is light all night and the whole world up there is open to runs and hikes and camping is open to all comers almost anywhere. The training possibilities are limitless. Fall is the transition time and the high-training volume time. It could be one of the best times to find your self with a club or a school to experience getting down to business.

    There is most often early snow. Winter clearly is great because there are endless kilometers of skiing and good races at every turn. Spring … ahhh, spring! Those endless kilometers are still groomed, there is a lot of sun, the days are long and all the “waffle houses” open up along the trails. Long slow distance; hundreds of kilometers of it, makes spring the perfect wind-down to the year and a great lead in to summer training. You can’t lose.

    Where to go?

    This takes a little time, too. Both geography and social situation play a role. You need to decide on a rural, or an urban setting, a small or large town.

    Small villages in Scandinavia can be pretty quiet, with not much more than a grocery store and a gas station. Occasionally you’ll find a café, but small is small. Proximity to town is a factor if it is important to you.

    If you are not used to too much solitude try to locate in a hub of sorts. Save the isolation for the next trip after you have learned how it works. How far north? There is no direct sun above the Arctic Circle for the heart of the winter. That takes a little getting used to.

    If it is a school how do the students live? In apartments on their own or on campus? How do the classes fit your abilities and is there anything in Englis? (More on the language topic later.) Does the school have a “ski line,” a curriculum of study oriented to winter sport, or is skiing through the local club? Is the club receptive to foreigners?

    Norway and Sweden are the places with which I am most familiar. A lot of kids I know have had good experiences in Finland as well. All the ski nations offer wonderful opportunities to interested folk so it is not out of prejudice that I keep my comments related to Scandinavia, but out of familiarity.

    The 30-90 day option can free up time to experience both Norway and Sweden and there are no visas required. In planning for a longer stay if there is not an automatic reason such as family, friends, past stays or specific geography for picking Sweden or Norway as first choice, then a look at the opportunities with the schools and clubs is warranted.

    Sweden has a few more schools that have ski lines in the curriculum and offers a little more latitude in terms of ability. Visas there may be a bit easier to obtain. The most exclusive Swedish and Norwegian ski gymnasiums are geared to kids who have come up through the systems there and who have reached an elite level of performance as Juniors.

    These schools, six in Sweden and three in Norway, are far more rigorous in selection than is any of the ski academies here in the U.S. Contrary to popular U.S. opinion, that does not mean the athletes have specialized on skiing from the time they can walk. What is does mean is that after 16, the kids are not trying to letter in four school sports and are not competing all year long.

    At around 16, if they want to be skiers, they start to train for skiing as the main sport. They still play soccer, they still run, they still hike and climb and bike, but those become adjuncts and diversions for the rest of the training program. They rarely start to count hours before 16 and if they do the hours are reasonable e.g. 325.

    Where our kids have a problem adapting to the rigors of ski-gymnasium training in Scandinavia is that we have a more thinly spread approach into pretty key years for solid training.  In most high school situations we compete in four seasons and never truly train. High-school tradition can lead to a lot of subtle coercion in the spreading thin of talent and energy. Performance is often flight on the wings of talent alone and the foundation for real endurance training is left shaky and incomplete.

    Where we seem to drop behind the Scandinavians as skiers is between 16 and 19.  At the same age, we are less familiar with the rhythm of training zones and loads. Finding yourself at a ski gymnasium in Scandinavia and playing catch up there can be a lot to handle at first. But if you plan for it and you know a little about what you are getting into, you can handle it and profit from it.

    The key is to understand that the profit builds over time. You will not go to a Scandinavian ski gymnasium for a year and come home and win everything. That is a short-sighted and short-lived dream. It is the wrong reason for going.

    “How” you arrange your time there is the last question. It comes along after you have determined “Why” and “When” and “Where”. This has to do with your actual experience in the country and can determine a lot as to how that plays out.

    Some of the considerations leading into “How” you spend your time are whether or not you go with a program from North America or if you blend into one over there. You might have the opportunity to go with your school here and to get a good introduction to the training climate and culture, or if you have more time, you might simply go it alone and apply and enter one of the ski gymnasiums there if you are accepted.

    Some organizations smooth out the visa issues, and if you are lucky, can put you in a good living situation, but many organizations load the participation with restrictions, have their own agendas and are not always happy to cater to your hopes for a good training situation.

    Each possibility needs to be looked at and you need to decide what fits best. As you get a little older more and less structured plans can open up, but you still need to have an idea of how to fund things, what you hope to get out of the time and initially where and whom you will be and with.

    The plans do not have to be rigid. When it comes to what you do when you are there, the plans are lines on a chart. You may find things that make you want to change course and a good plan can give you the confidence to do that. There are a lot of opportunities. Turn over every rock and every log on the beach and be ready to have a great time and to write an exciting chapter in your book.

    There is one final piece I want to put on the table and if your trip is any longer than a couple of weeks I think it is a most important one. It is some competency with the foreign language.

    If I divide the kids I have worked with setting up a period of time in Scandinavia into groups that had really good times and groups that didn’t have the best experiences, a common thread is that virtually all the winners developed a high level of proficiency with the language, and among those the ones who started to get the basics before they left North America had a still better time and tend to have repeat visits.

    The language opens doors that would otherwise remain closed. It makes friends, breaks the ice, lets you laugh at yourself in the struggle and makes you approachable. Little things like humor and customs take on a different dimension. The dark time isn’t as dark because you begin to think and live in the same tongue everyone around you uses. You are included, you include yourself.

    Yes, almost all Norwegians and Swedes speak excellent English. Still, if you are going over with an idea of learning some things about skiing and culture from them, why hobble your effort by forcing them to speak YOUR language, when theirs may have the subtleties and expressions they need and yours may not?

    If you are living with a family, and any time you are the members have to drop their language to speak yours, how real a picture of that life are you getting? It sets up and leaves up a certain wall.

    Before you go, get to a language course. There are good ones available on the web and on CD’s. Get advice from the Scandinavian departments at major universities. I know Harvard, the University of Minnesota, and the University of Washington all have Norwegian and Swedish faculties.

    Break the mystery of the basics and be able to start using it as soon as you arrive. The experience will develop much further in every direction and you will not only come home with the chance of skiing faster for a while, but also with a skill you have earned and can use for the rest of your life.

    Personally in looking back at the great times I have had traveling in Scandinavia and in actually feeling at home over there I value the ability to communicate in the native language most of all. It has enriched my whole life experience.

    Next go round we’ll look at some of the things to do and to avoid once you are there and the horse that you rode in on has turned and headed home without you.