Armed with nothing but two skis, skeleton fabrics and a helmet fit for a Daft Punk comeback tour, there are humans hurtling down the sides of mountains faster than an F1 car.
Blink and you’ll miss them, some of the fastest non-motorized humans on the planet — speed skiers.
Speed skiers are effectively plummeting through the sky.
In 2016, Italy’s Ivan Origone flashed down a run of the La Forêt Blanche resort in France, clocking an average of 254.958 kmph (158.42 mph) across his last 100 meters to set a new world record.
For perspective, the World Air Sports Federation states that the terminal speed of the human body freefalling in a stable, head down position is between 240 and 290 kmph (149.13 and 180.2 mph.)
Unsurprisingly, such descriptions dictate that, though skiing generally is wildly popular, speed skiing is very much a niche vocation.
Whereas jockeys riding horses will aim to keep themselves as light as possible, athletes on speed skis are maximizing strength and heaviness. Weightlifting, squats and deadlifts formed the backbone of a program designed to build dense muscle.
Strength conditioning also serves another vitally important purpose — surviving crashes.
F1 drivers are dressed to minimize damage. McLaren’s F1 driver’s overalls for example — made from a heat and flame resistant fiber — can resist exposure to direct fire for 15 seconds, supported by flame-resistant boots and gloves.
Speed skiers are afforded no such protection. With clothing designed for speed and speed alone, crash injuries can be horrific.
Concussions, broken arms and legs — the diagnoses are endless, but friction burning is the most commonplace injury.
In 2016, during a World Cup training run in France, Great Britain’s Jan Farrell crashed at 216 km/h (134.2 mph) and proceeded to skid for roughly 1,150 feet — over three-and-a-half football pitches — leaving him with second-degree burns.
More commonly caused by direct exposure to fire and boiling water, partial thickness burns can be excruciatingly painful, yet incredibly, Farrell was back out on the slopes again a day later.
Over time, the burns healed, but the psychological scarring endured.
Once unflappable and having never crashed at such a speed, almost overnight Farrell’s confidence was rocked — a critical issue in a discipline with little room for self-doubt.
“I was quite good at not crashing and not being scared — after that, everything changed,” he said. “Most of us who’ve crashed take some time to come back. It took me over a season and I had to go do psychological training and really rethink my mindset of how I skied.”
The sport has made just one appearance at the Winter Olympics — as a men’s and women’s demonstration event at Albertville in 1992 — and Farrell believes that while the potential is there, speed skiing needs to “do its homework” before an official return is viable.
Read the full story here.
