With so many variables out of your control, ski racing makes it tempting to put your trust
in other things. When a race finally goes your way—maybe the fog clears, or the headwind stops,
or the course set finally suits your strengths—it can be hard to attribute your lucky break to just
chance or an equation of probabilities. If you are anything like me, your mind starts racing to
attribute it to something you did instead. At those races when you just barely made the flip by a
few hundredths and had breakthroughs on the second run, what did you do differently? While
some of this thinking is productive because it helps you evaluate your routines for effectiveness,
you may also find yourself attributing the common link in your best races to something that is
unrelated, or worse yet, counterproductive to skiing fast. This is how a lot of superstitions are
born. Once, a friend of mine had a breakthrough race after forgetting his race suit and instead
wearing his tattered training suit. In the next race series, he showed up intentionally wearing this
objectively slower suit. For better or worse, these are the rabbit holes we often find ourselves
going down as ski racers.
As much as I try not to, I am no exception to the subconscious tendency to connect
success with superstitious patterns. However, I like to think that my superstitious patterns are at
least halfway rooted in real, difference-making strategies. One component of this that I try to
never mess with on race day is my breakfast: Greek yogurt, granola, a banana, and one cup of
coffee—every time. It gives me the fuel I need, and it is also (at least part of) what I eat most of
the time before training. Breakfast is definitely one of the more consequential parts of your
routine because what you eat plays a big role in how you feel, your energy, and sometimes even
how you think. As much as I like to tell myself that my strict approach to breakfast on race day is
just because I have a system that already works for me, I know there is an element of superstition
underlying my reasoning. Heck, I’ve even turned down homemade chocolate chip pancakes on
race day!
I often find myself, as many do, getting superstitious with my pre-race warm-up. Like
many, I have a set routine down to each rep and exercise that I do religiously. I frequently do
these exercises just to feel mentally ready, even if I am already warmed up. Similarly, in the gym,
I have the habit of excessively warming up before heavy lifts just to feel prepared. Certainly,
some of this is unnecessary. While a precise warm-up can be very helpful in some situations,
being adaptable is also an equally valuable approach. When I do dare to stray from my set warmup routine, I often find that I am in a better place mentally if I am aware of how my body feels
and adjust my warm-up accordingly, rather than simply going through the script of my routine.
Where my superstitions get a little wacky is with my clothes. Despite skiing hundreds of
days each year, I will only train and race in one pair of long johns. Don’t worry, I wash them
regularly and change what I wear underneath them every day. However, I will run that one set of
long johns for years until they are threadbare and in tatters. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Perhaps
more concerning, I have strong superstition when it comes to my under layers. Probably 80% of
my best races have happened when I’ve worn one particular shirt underneath my long johns, and
even more specifically, when I’ve accidentally worn it inside out (it happens a lot for me).
Coincidence? Impossible! The problem is that this routine only works if it’s coincidental. When I
plan to wear my lucky shirt inside out, I usually have below-average race performances. To me,
the explanation is simple; you can’t force luck. Some days you have it, some days you don’t.
My lucky shirt proves an important point about superstitions. Some pre-race rituals have
legitimate influence on your performance. Your warm-up, your diet, and what you tell yourself
on race day all affect how you ski. These are routines that you need to critically analyze and
deliberately choose, not just leave to the whims of the moment. Others, like what shirt you wear,
have absolutely no rational bearing on your performance. The trick is being deliberate and
strategic about the rituals that are guaranteed to make a difference and being okay with having no
control over the others. The reason why my lucky shirt is lucky only when I unintentionally wear
it on race day is because, if I don’t choose to wear it, I am letting go of my concern over things
that are out of my hands. If I go into a race thinking I need luck, I am not setting myself up for
success. Rather, if I focus on nailing the routines that will always make a difference in my
performance and don’t concern myself with the rest, I am much more likely to have a good race.
As tempting as it is to obsess over superstitions, I’ve found the best approach is to focus on the
routines that make a difference and let go of the rituals that don’t. Because, at the end of the day,
if you believe you will only ski well when you ride up the lift on your lucky number chair, you
will have a lot of bad races.