That’s a Wrap.
91st place, three nights in Oslo, and everything that comes next.
Hello, and welcome to the final edition of the season.
It has been two weeks since I last raced. Two weeks since I crossed the finish line in Oslo, got on a bus straight from a party to the airport, did not sleep, and then proceeded to sleep for thirteen hours the moment I got home.
That about sums it up, really.
The Race
Sometimes things just do not go as planned.
When I left you last time, I was buzzing. Oslo. Holmenkollen. A childhood dream. And getting to that start line was everything I imagined it would be. The course, the crowd, the atmosphere. Truly special.
The result, though, was my worst of the season. 91st place. Four minutes back.
Honestly? I was not disappointed in myself. Not even slightly. Because I know exactly what happened: I was done. Completely and utterly drained. Mentally, physically, nothing left. I had given everything I had all winter, and my body had simply reached its limit.
I shot clean on the first prone. Exited the range and was already 58th, a full minute back from the leaders. Clean shooting, one minute down. That told me everything I needed to know about where my legs were. To make the pursuit I needed another clean stage. I missed two on the standing. Came out 88th. Finished 91st.
There is also something I should mention here. I have done some blood tests since getting home, and I now have an explanation for why I have been so tired all winter. I am not going to go into it today, but I will in a future newsletter. It is worth its own space.
The course itself was a factor too. The start list got switched at the last minute because of the snow conditions, which meant instead of an early bib number I ended up near the back of the field. And because the course had been closed all week to protect the snow, the first time I ever skied it was the morning of the race. Going around it in warm-up, I remember thinking, right, this is a lot. Steep, technical, and with snow that was in genuinely difficult condition. All World Cup courses are hard, but that one on that day was something else.
But here is what I am going to carry from that race.
A group of British fans came up to me afterwards. They said they had found my videos online, started following biathlon this year, and had decided to come to Oslo specifically to watch me race. I do not have words for how much that means. That is exactly why I do this. That is exactly why I write these newsletters. Knowing that somewhere out there, people are discovering this sport because of something I put out into the world. That is everything.
It was also the final race of Marcus Webb’s career. One of the people I genuinely looked up to coming into British biathlon, one of the senior figures who has been doing this for years. Watching him race for the last time was emotional. A hard moment, but an important one to be there for.
The Weekend, Oslo is for After Parties
I am not going to pretend the weekend was all quiet reflection.
Friday evening after the race, we went out. Saturday morning I went for a long run around Oslo with my coach and one of my closest friends, which maybe was not the most sensible recovery choice, but I needed it. Sightseeing, moving, fresh air, good company. Oslo is a brilliant city and I love being there.
Saturday evening is always a special one at the World Cup finale. The pursuit is done, the mass start is only open to the top 30 athletes in the world, which means the rest of us are suddenly free. Everyone tends to find the same bar. Athletes from different nations who have been racing against each other all winter, finally just being people. It is always a good night. Oslo is not cheap, a round of drinks can set you back quite a sum, but after a full season of being switched on and professional and focused, it is genuinely nice to just decompress a little.
Then on Sunday, the IBU organises its own private end of season party. Everyone looks forward to it. What happens at that party stays at that party.
What I can tell you is that at some point during Sunday night, I got on an bus to the airport, did not sleep, flew home, and slept for thirteen hours afterward.
That is the World Cup season finale. I would not change a thing.
What Comes Next
The racing is done. But Off the Range is not.
There are a few newsletters I have been thinking about for a while now, and I am genuinely excited to write them. Here is what is coming:
The full Olympic Games edition is the one I have been promising since the games finished. The pre-camp, the experience day by day, the honest debrief. That one needs the time and the space it deserves, and it is going to get it.
The season recap is coming too. The full picture of what this year actually was. The nationality switch, the qualification, the races, why I was so tired, everything. Start to finish.
Then there is the compartment syndrome piece. The operation, the recovery, what it actually involved, and what it means going forward. I have been asked about this a lot this season, and it deserves a proper answer.
And beyond those three, I want to start writing pieces that go a little deeper into the sport itself. What smaller nations have to do that bigger nations simply do not. Why summer biathlon needs to grow. What the Nations Cup actually means and why 24th place this season matters more than most people realise.
There is a lot to write. I am looking forward to all of it.
Thank you. Genuinely.
To everyone who has read these newsletters this season, who has sent messages, who has shared editions, who has subscribed. It has been one of the most challenging, exciting, draining, rewarding years of my life, and having people follow along through all of it has made it mean so much more.
I will be back soon.