Men’s super-G Milan Cortina, inside the Olympic start hut: ‘It’s like a funeral at the top’

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BORMIO, Italy — At the top of the mountain, 2,000 meters above sea level, before skiers throw themselves down the slope, lies a place of solitude away from the raucous crowd.

A small wooden cabin.

It is a place of warmth, shielding athletes from the elements. For some, the start hut is the calm before the storm, but for others, it can be where inner thoughts become their demons.

“It is like a funeral at the top,” Team USA Alpine skier Kyle Negomir said.

And then come the beeps.

The ritual of the countdown timer is ingrained in a racer’s head. It sounds at 30 seconds, then at 10, and then counts down: five, four, three, two, one.

“If you hear those beeps in the middle of the summer, it’ll give you anxiety,” said American Sam Morse, 19th in the men’s downhill Saturday and competing Wednesday in the super-G.

What really happens in that private space before Olympians set off for the race of their lives?

General view of the Stelvio track from the start gate before the men’s downhill. (Christian Petersen / Getty Images)

Before entering the hut, skiers ascend using a standard chairlift. Some warm up by free skiing, without gates, while others may do a practice run. On Saturday, in the men’s Alpine downhill, Frenchman Maxence Muzaton activated his abdominals by doing a side plank in the snow, while Switzerland’s Alexis Monney beat his chest.

Silver medallist Giovanni Franzoni could feel his legs start to tense during his warmup. Negomir, meanwhile, has a tendency to get too pumped up at the start. “All of a sudden your heart rate is 180 beats per minute, and you haven’t gone yet,” he said. “That’s exhausting.”

A rise in heart rate, intensified breathing and muscle tension is a natural response to high-intensity situations, breathwork coach Hannah Nedas told The Athletic. Adrenaline sharpens alertness — but when it spikes too high, coordination, balance and decision-making suffer.

Techniques focusing on physical contact points, such as your feet in ski boots, material against your skin or the temperature on your face, and consciously relaxing the jaw or shoulders, can help calm the nervous system. When grounded, thoughts remain clear even under pressure, reflexes and spatial awareness are sharper — critical when gravity and speed leave no margin for error.

Some skiers get in the groove by listening to music, others like to be attuned to the sounds around them, grounding themselves in the present.

Olympic debutant Franzoni became increasingly nervous as Swiss great Marco Odermatt and eventual gold medalist Franjo von Allmen registered competitive times in Saturday’s downhill. The 24-year-old tried to enjoy the occasion. “Pressure is a privilege,” he said in the medallists’ postrace news conference. “It’s an honour to race with the fastest guys in the world.”

Marco Odermatt prepares for his run before the second official training for the men’s downhill. (Fabrice Coffrini / AFP via Getty Images)

However, with so much at stake, the realization suddenly dawns. As Negomir put it: “Oh, s—, I’m going to have to risk my life today!”

“That’s a lot to take in,” the United States skier told the media after the race, especially for a guy who, a year before the 2022 Olympics at one of his first World Cup downhill races, crashed, tore his anterior and medial cruciate ligaments in his knee and broke “a lot of bones” in his hand. He showed the media his eight scars to prove it.

“You are nervous about being slow but also making it down in one piece, period.”

The hut itself is closed off to everyone other than the skier, one trainer and start officials.

Still, there is a sense of camaraderie among different nations in the start area, formed because the world’s best skiers spend half the year racing each other in the World Cup. The high intensity, according to Negomir, juxtaposes the sombre mood before the start.

“You don’t see guys chatting and shooting the s—,” he said. “Everyone is just leaning on their poles, staring off into space and just trying to calm the nervous system.”

To do so, many concentrate on their breathing.

“It’s important to have techniques to help keep the mind calm, clear and focused, bringing the awareness into the present moment,” Nedas said, who has worked with some of England’s top men’s Premier League players. “If not, that fear just completely amplifies. The breath speaks the language of the nervous system.”

Techniques such as nasal or diaphragmatic breathing, conscious slow, long, extended breaths, and even humming help slow down the heart rate. The idea is to downshift from excess arousal into a more centred space, Nedas explained.

When the nervous system is in a regulated state, the brain and body can communicate more clearly. The prefrontal cortex, situated at the front of the brain and responsible for functions such as decision making, is “online.” Breathing is more efficient, allowing the muscles to stay more supple and responsive. This state supports flow, imperative for extreme sports, rather than a state of overwhelm.

A mantra to steady the focus accompanies breathing techniques. “I don’t think about the result,” Frenchman Nils Allègre told The Athletic. Instead, he will tell himself to “stay smooth and calm,” while others repeat “go at it, stay with the outside ski,” or “keep it simple,” and even “have fun and go.”

Sam Morse leaves the start gate during men’s downhill training at Stelvio Alpine Skiing Centre. (Christian Petersen / Getty Images)

As the timer counts down, all Morse can hear is his personal trainer, Vincent Corrado, screaming at him … with encouragement.

At 12 seconds, Morse puts his skis over the mechanical wand, the spindly knee-level barrier which, when competitors push through, triggers the electronic timer. A powerful start, like a sprinter coming out of the blocks, is crucial.

“I don’t like to wait until one,” he said. “I feel like I’m behind. As soon as five hits, I’m starting my kick and at three seconds, I’m kicking out. It’s my favourite part, it’s just go time!”

As Negomir enters the hut, the 27-year-old grounds himself by locking onto a single image, such as a tennis ball floating in the mountain air. He visualizes the individual hairs, the cracked lines, the writing on the fluorescent yellow fluff, its smell, its touch; anchoring his attention through his senses to stabilize his nervous system.

With 30 seconds to go, just before he pushes out of the gate, he lets the image dissolve.

“You’re ready to go to war,” he said.