Kyle Tress

How do you train for skeleton in the summer?

I’m often asked this question. Summer training begins in May, when the team charters a private jet to New Zealand for 3 months of on-ice training deep in the Southern Hemisphere. When we return stateside in August, we spend several hours a day in a skeleton simulator designed by Lockheed Martin, practicing specific corner combinations and competing in mock races. The simulator contains perfect digital models of each track, upon which it overlays the ‘ideal line’ for us to follow. We program weather conditions, ice conditions, and equipment setups into the simulator, affording us an infinite variety of training exercises. We earn points based on performance and achievement and are rewarded accordingly with money, toys, and praise from legions of adoring fans.

Ok, I lied.

Summer training is mostly focused on push training. The push is a mix of art and science, and sliders need to be strong and fast.  But that’s only part of the equation. Technique is the crucial element. I’ve met world class sprinters who can’t push very fast. They were trained to run upright, not bent over with a sled. On the other hand, my best 30m sprint time is a painful 3.91, which I’m not sure will ever improve. But I can push 4.8’s in Lake Placid, a feat only a handful of athletes can match. Technique is crucial. 

Weights, sprints, skills

When I started in 2002, it was possible to have a slow push and still be competitive. Today it’s virtually impossible. Although we only sprint for 5 seconds at the start, those few seconds can determine the outcome of the entire race. We train 6 days a week with weights, sprints, and skill exercises designed to build strength and power. I’m not going to go into details about the lifting or sprinting (it closely resembles track and field workouts) however I do want to talk about our skill training by introducing you to a good friend – the push track.

Disclaimer: — The push track is not really my friend. I’m pretty sure it has killed before. It’s also holding my loved ones hostage until this article is posted.

The death push track

In the summer we practice starts at the push track, a rickety old facility near the Horse Show grounds in Lake Placid. We sprint full speed down a hill alongside a wobbly sled attached to rusty guide rails. With every run comes the fear of derailment thanks to a small kink at the trough of the hill. I’m waiting for the day when the USOC insists we start wearing leather jackets and pants, because this thing can take skin off like a rogue cheese grater. Sleds have come off the track and launched people into the woods. it’s sliced ankles, heels, and tendons. A few attempts have resulted in the kind of road rash typically reserved for t-shirt motorcyclists. 

And that’s just the descent

At the top of the outrun, a catapult mechanism awaits, designed to catch speeding sleds and fling them in reverse back to the start. It’s brilliant, really. When it returns you to the start, the next person is waiting and ready to go. When it flings you into the woods, down the canyon to your rocky death, there’s no evidence or body to recover. The push track is a perfect killer.

Thankfully, things have improved over the years. We have a more stable sled. Skeleton rarely reaches the catapult mechanism, instead relying on gravity to slow us down. It seems the push track’s killer instinct has been subdued.

But I know the truth. It’s biding its time, waiting to strike again.

Wrap up

So that’s our summer training regime in a nutshell. I’ll post a few numbers in the future so you can see my progress. As always, you should follow me on twitter!