45 minutes or so before the start, you’re not thinking about how to ski fast, or what it takes to execute the perfect biathlon shot, or how much a biathlon race hurts. I tell, myself it’s just skiing, and it’s just shooting. I know how to do both of those things well. And I ski through it in my mind, and I try to visualize what type of emotions I’m going to feel, what type of pressure I’m going to feel, before it actually happens. I’m thinking about the race, and thinking about where I’m going to change my technique, if it’s slow snow, if it’s fast snow, if it’s windy, if it’s not windy. In my mind, I can see the changing of the digital numbers. And for a moment, I think, can I do this? Am I capable of putting myself through this again? Usually the crowd is screaming. It’s pandemonium. But for me, that’s the point where the audio and visual come in and become sort of a tunnel, where the only thing that I’m focusing on is my own race. And in that moment, I have to repeat to myself, do what you can, with what you have, where you are. That’s a Teddy Roosevelt quote: do what you can, with what you have, where you are. A song comes on that distracts you for a second. And it’s all about getting back into your own zone. And for me, that reset button is just repeating that quote. I look at the snow. I look at where I am. I’ve got skis on my feet. I’ve got a rifle on my back. I know how to start the race. I just need to let my body do it. I know that, at 10 seconds, I’ll hear the audible beeps, and that’s the trigger. I’m the bow with the arrow drawn, waiting. And when that beep changes, that’s the release, and that’s the acceleration, and I’m the arrow, and I’m accelerating down the track. Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.