Rooted & Ignite

Performance isn't one state. It's a shift.

There is the strength that settles in—steady, patient, and enduring. And there is the strength that surges forward—explosive, instinctive, and unapologetic.

Featuring Olympian Nordic skier Julia Kern, Rooted and Ignite explores the two mental states that exist within the same athlete. The calm that carries you through the work, and the spark that compels you to go.

One body. Two energies.

ROOTED

I visualize the course the day or morning before the race, going through how I want to ski the corners and what cues to think about when. I draw out the course in my notebook, noting what technical cue I want to think about in key sections, and how I want to ski and pace the course. Shortly before the race, I put my big headphones on and listen to music, a specific playlist, to tune out the noise and get myself into a confident and collected headspace.

Settling in is the moment the initial rush of excitement and nerves pass, and I focus on my breath and stride, a certain rhythm that feels sustainable and calm.

Patience in an endurance sport looks like moves and surges executed at just the right time, high-impact accelerations with minimal expenditure.

I love a mass start race because ultimately it's a game of when to sit and draft, when to take a risk and go with the breakaway group, and when to put down the final finishing kick.

I vividly remember the 20km Skiathlon in Val di Fiemme during the Tour de Ski being the moment where racing my own race really paid off.

This format is 10km classic before you switch to 10km of skate in the same race, towards the end of a tour that consisted of 7 races in 9 days, so energy conservation was key. My goal was to start off the race skiing relaxed and conserving as much energy as possible, and “getting through” the classic leg with minimal blowing up as possible.

Before I knew it, people seemed to be slowing down quite a bit, and I continued to feel strong with each kilometer, climbing up through the ranks as people started to fall back—the opposite experience of what I had through most of my distance racing career. I ended up having a personal best finish in a distance event when I least expected it, and have carried that lesson with me in future mass start races.

When I’m rooted, I am relaxed and calm.

Endurance feels like rhythm.

IGNITE

I get signals from my body, other people’s body language, and my feeling overall from how the course is skiing when it is time to attack. The flip of the switch—or as I like to call it, lighting the match—is an intentional moment. Simply saying to myself, “light the match and go,” is what often flips the switch, along with the lack of fear of blowing up.

The mental part is first, the physical follows.

The best races are when I can feel the moment—my mind says go, and the body is able to follow.

Instead of being patient and relaxed, my competitive drive kicks in and in a way everything around me goes silent and I am locked in and fully focused. Everything around me just blurs except my task at hand.

Confidence in my body feels smooth, powerful, and intentional.

I am in control of the race, when I surge, and when I know I can catch my breath and recover.

When I decide to go all in, the noise disappears. No more what ifs, negative or positive judgements or thoughts, just sheer competitive hunger drives me forward and my body moves unrestricted.

I tell myself the fear of feeling like I didn’t give it my all and the feeling of regret is far more painful than the fear of going hard and pushing my limit.

The final sprint feels quiet. My brain is no longer having thoughts, it is fixated on getting to the line as fast as possible, letting my instincts take over and allowing my body to move unrestrained at max capacity.

Absolutely nothing goes through my head in the final seconds before the finish. Sheer instincts take over.

I tell myself to light the match and my body follows. It is not about conserving anymore, it is about surging.

You have to have the endurance to stay in contact with the group, and the explosiveness to throw down decisive moves and surges, and ultimately outsprint your competitors to the finish.

Ignite comes more naturally to me.

When I ignite, I am fierce and explosive.

Speed feels like a wind-up car being let go.

I know it’s time to go when I am itching to surge and feeling good.