Gliding for Gold: The Physics of Winter Sports

The Finish Lines

THE FINISH LINES For an eloquent graphical statement about the eagerness and enthusiasm with which we embrace winter sports, and about the drive which propels athletes to greater heights (actually, lesser heights in downhill events), see the graph on p. 142. This graph shows how the world record time for the men’s 1,500-m long-track speed skating event has decreased over the years. In something more than a century, the time taken for the world’s fastest skater to cover a distance that is only a little short of a mile has been reduced by a third. Several of the earliest records were set by Peder Østlund of Norway; the latest (as I write these words) by Shami Davis of the United States. These skaters, and all those between them from many di√erent countries who contributed to this graph, share at least one thing: a strange and all-consuming desire to be the fastest man on ice. The desire to contribute to a point on this graph is strange because, well, why should anyone feel the need to strap metal blades to their feet and careen rapidly over a surface of solid water? It is all-consuming because, these days, athletes who aspire to world records must devote a significant part of their youthful years to their goal: most of their time for several years is taken up with constant training to improve strength, endurance, and technique. Consider the human e√ort that must have been exerted to contribute one point of the graph. Each point represents not just the exertions of the skater during the race in which he set the world record, but also the exertions of all the other athletes in that race, who were pushing him on, forcing him to his best e√orts, goading him forward with the last ounce of strength to crash over the line in record time. Similar exertions were made for all the earlier races that led up to this moment. Now look at how many points there are on the graph, contributed over 142 GLIDING FOR GOLD
 












  
 Men’s 1,500-m long-track speed skating record time, 1880–2010. many years, and you can see that hundreds or thousands of people have spent, in total, centuries of extreme e√ort to make this graph. Every other distance in long-track speed skating can produce a graph like this; every other winter sport has its own set of graphs for each type of event. I have already noted that in the Vancouver Winter Olympic Games, men’s cross-country skiing (the 30-km pursuit won by Sweden’s Marcus Hellner) all the medal winners and many of those who finished out of medal contention literally fell to the ground in utter exhaustion immediately after crossing the line. In the women’s cross-country sprint event at the same games, the eventual bronze medal winner recovered from a bad fall during warm-up before the race to ski the entire race with four broken ribs and a collapsed lung. (Petra Majdic of Slovenia skied against medical advice and in great pain; she did not know the extent of her injuries at the time.) It stirs the blood of even an armchair winter sports enthusiast such as me to see people rise to the challenge in these competitions. At the time of writing, the Vancouver Winter Olympics are still fresh in the memory: who can forget the courageous Joannie Rochette, who won a bronze medal in figure skating just days after the death of her mother? Or Apolo Ohno winning an eighth short-track speed skating medal—a record number? Or the wave of national euphoria and relief as the Canadian men narrowly THE FINISH LINES 143 defeated the surprisingly good (to all but themselves) Americans in the men’s hockey final? Anybody who watches winter sports can engage with the emotions that accompany the triumphs and tragedies of individual athletes. However, as a physicist I find that my appreciation of the achievements of athletes in setting world records or in overcoming adversity is enhanced by an understanding of the basic physics that underpin the di√erent sports. I can appreciate the drama at an emotional level as much as other people do, but my knowledge of physics permits me to see the achievements in a di√erent light, or from another angle. I hope...