Grit, power, sustained exertion. A single, explosive act which defies gravity. Though completely contradictory, both describe the sport of Nordic combined, a discipline which demands athletes compete in both ski jumping and cross-country skiing.

At Nordic combined competitions, athletes first participate in the jumping event, then race in the cross-country phase later the same day. The results from the ski jumping phase determine the starting order of the cross-country race, which athletes begin at staggered intervals. A better finish in the jump warrants an earlier start in the race, and the first skier to cross the finish line wins the overall event.

In cross-country skiing, athletes race against the clock, navigating a winding, 10km-long (or 6.2 mile-long) course. It requires stamina and mental alertness, as the athletes push through two- to three-minute-long sprints on and off for 20 to 30 minutes at a time. Cross-country skiers need muscular builds, in both the upper and lower body, and cardiovascular conditioning is vital.

Ski jumping, on the other hand, happens in an instant. The sport sees competitors slide down a ramp, called an in-run, gaining enough momentum to launch themselves as far as possible through the air. In order to succeed, every single part of an athlete’s jump technically must be perfect — from picking the exact right moment to catapult themselves off the in-run, to landing with one foot slightly in front of the other. It requires extreme flexibility, explosive muscle fibers in the lower body and, most importantly, a lean frame.

In short, the two have almost nothing in common. Nordic combined is a true measure of athletic versatility with differences on every level —  the physical, the physiological, the mental. For the Norwegians who invented the sport, that was the point.

“The sport was created as a test to see who was the ultimate extreme winter athlete,” said Michael Ward, Domestic & Development Coach for Nordic Combined USA. “There was ski jumping and cross-country, and they wanted to see who was the best at both.” 

It presents a hefty challenge when it comes to training. Building enough muscle to comfortably weather a cross-country race makes an athlete too heavy to fly. Remaining lean enough to be aerodynamic means sacrificing strength. The sport demands a seemingly impossible balance.

"It’s a tug of war, basically," said Stephen Schumann, who competes in Nordic combined for the United States. "The more you pull on the Nordic skiing side, the more it pulls the ski jumping side into the red zone, and then vice versa."

One of the most difficult puzzles to solve is each athlete’s nutrition plan.

Weight is one of the most crucial factors in ski jumping, and that’s not just because a lighter frame flies farther. In order to prevent athletes from modifying their equipment in any way which unfairly may boost their aerodynamics, the regulations in place for ski jumping suits are incredibly rigid — so much so that even inadvertent mistakes due to normal body weight fluctuations can result in immediate disqualification. 

“[Weight is] really hard to manage healthily,” Schumann said. “While a couple pounds here or there in the general population really doesn’t make a big difference, in a professional extreme sport, it does make a huge difference.”

Conversely, cross-country skiing requires a ton of energy. As athletes dash through a cross-country course, they're pushing their cardiovascular output to the limit for 30-straight minutes. To survive that, they need fuel.

“One of the biggest precautions [we take] is maintaining appropriate body mass and appropriate energy intake for the demands of what they do.” said Christopher Couture, a doctor for the U.S. National Team. “They have to consume a lot of calories, but they don’t want to put on a lot of bulk, per se, because bulk doesn’t really fly as well.”

As a result, Nordic combined athletes have to get a little creative in training, focusing on the few things that do overlap. For example, though the kind of muscle needed in each discipline differs — fast-twitch muscle fibers for ski jumping versus slow-twitch ones for cross-country skiing — both disciplines demand significant energy from the lower body. Similarly, core strength plays a vital role in both sports. During the ski jumping portion of Nordic combined competitions, athletes must be stable through each of the four phases of their jump to achieve adequate power and form. Cross-country skis, designed to be light and minimize friction against the snow, are the thinnest type of skis, measuring about one to two inches wide. As such, in order to stay upright as they glide through the snow, athletes must have impeccable balance.

Over the last decade or so, the United States has shifted its approach to better attend to those similarities. When Ward was on the U.S. squad between 2011 and 2016, practices focused heavily on improving the athletes’ cross-country skills. The idea was to create skiers who were proficient enough at the cross-country race to make up for any time deficits caused by errors in the jumping competition.

Now, due to a better understanding of how drastically weight and technique factor into a ski jumper’s performance — and a changing landscape which heavily rewards jumping masters like Norway’s Jarl Magnus Riiber — Team USA spends significantly more time improving their ability on the ski jump.

“In cross-country, I think you can get away with some of the technical stuff based on a person’s endurance and cardiovascular ability. If someone is super, super fit, they don’t necessarily need to have the best technique on the cross-country course, and they’ll still be relatively fast,” Ward said. “With jumping, you really have to be technically sound. You’re almost seeking perfection on the ski jump every single time, and because you’re going so fast, you just have a split second at the end of the jump to make everything perfect.”

Striking that balance becomes increasingly challenging when an injury prevents an athlete from training in one discipline or the other, but the same philosophy often applies to altered training plans: focus on the overlap. 

During the 2018 and 2019 seasons, Schumann battled back-to-back knee injuries which prevented him from competing and forced him to modify his training. While he healed, he spent his time focusing on the smaller (though still key) aspects of training, like stretching. 

“There are tricky ways to always train both [skills]. If, for some reason, I have a restriction where I can’t lift weights — and if I can’t lift weights, I probably can’t actually ski jump —  I can work on other aspects of ski jumping. I can work on mobility, I can do mental stuff, I can do technique stuff that doesn’t involve explosive movements. On the Nordic skiing side, if I can’t do long endurance sessions, I can still do core, I can do more on the strengthening side.” he said. “There are always tricky ways to do things that will help but aren’t necessarily exactly what you think you should be doing for each sport.”

Mentally, the contrast is just as stark. 

Every athlete, no matter the sport, likely battles pre-competition jitters at some point in their career. Learning to talk yourself into doing something completely unhuman, like flying, is a different skill altogether.

“Pretty much everything in your body naturally is telling you not to do it. You’re going down a massive ramp, and at the end of it, you’re going 60 mph, and then you fly 140 meters through the air. Most people's brains tell them not to do it,” Schumann said. “You’re trying to trick your brain and convince yourself that it’s okay and to continue to progress and jump better and jump farther.”

Cross-country skiing requires a different kind of convincing. Like marathoners, cross-country skiers have to ignore any pain or exhaustion that might persuade them to stop because it’s all about finding the finish line first.

“There’s the mental game of being able to handle the pressure and the nerve of doing a ski jump, but then you have to really go into yourself and dig deep for something that’s far more sustained in a 20-minute or 25-minute cross-country race where you’re really red-lining the whole way,” Couture said. “It's two different kinds of mental fortitude that you don’t necessarily see in other sports.”

For Schumann, managing his nerves before a jump simply has come down to practice. By jumping as much as he can and by simulating a competition environment during practice, he’s found he can keep himself calm most of the time. 

The way he manages the mental load during cross-country races, especially on bad days, is a little less orthodox.

“I’ll catch myself counting. I don’t know when I start counting, but I’ll catch myself at some random number, like 143,” Schumann said. “I’ll count every pole stroke or every stride basically the whole entirety of the race. It just takes my mind off the fact that things hurt.”

On his good days, he distracts himself in another way: by talking to the opponents racing around him. 

“I just kind of try to have fun with it and not take it too seriously. Most people don’t, but there’s no reason I can’t talk,” Schumann said. “I’ll say, ‘What’s up?’ or chit chat, or be like ‘Hey, get out of my way!’”

For Nordic combined athletes, learning to manage two polar-opposite disciplines requires extreme attention to detail and dedication to their craft. The sport in and of itself is an obstacle to overcome — but that’s part of the fun.

And according to Schumann, being forced to juggle his training rewards him in other areas of his life, too.

“Something funny about sports in general is that finding the balance is always hard —  whether you’re balancing two sports, or you’re balancing life and sports, or anything like that, it’s this constant tug of war. I think every athlete struggles with it, and I think every person struggles with it,” Schumann said. “Nordic combined is a cool [sport] to look at because you get to see that struggle within the sportscape and see that things kind of balance out eventually.”