The Mind Game: How Athletes Like Mikaela Shiffrin Conquer Pre-Race Anxiety

Even for the world’s best athletes, nerves never completely go away. The flashing cameras, roaring crowds, and weight of expectations can shake even the most seasoned competitors. Olympic gold medalist and World Cup skiing champion Mikaela Shiffrin recently admitted that she “still feels jitters” before races, proving that anxiety isn’t a sign of weakness—it’s simply part of being human. Her confession offers an honest look into how even top performers face psychological battles and how they’ve learned to manage those moments of fear and doubt to stay at their best.

Shiffrin’s openness about her nerves comes as she prepares for the 2026 Winter Olympics in Milano-Cortina, a stage where pressure will reach unimaginable levels. With millions watching and an already decorated career, it might be easy to assume that she has long mastered the art of confidence. But her words suggest otherwise. “I still get anxious,” she said in a recent interview. “No matter how many races I’ve done, that feeling never really goes away. I’ve just learned how to work with it instead of against it.” Her statement resonates far beyond skiing—it’s a reminder that the fear of failure is universal, and learning to channel it can be the key to success.

Sports psychologists often describe this phenomenon as the “sweet spot” of performance anxiety. Too little, and an athlete can become complacent; too much, and performance collapses. The best athletes, like Shiffrin, find a balance where nervous energy fuels focus and adrenaline sharpens instincts. It’s a skill that requires years of experience, introspection, and sometimes, painful failures. For Shiffrin, the loss of her father in 2020, followed by an emotional return to competition, became a turning point in understanding her own mental landscape. She has spoken openly about grief, doubt, and rediscovering joy in skiing. Those emotional experiences have made her stronger, but also more aware that mental health in sports deserves just as much attention as physical training.

Pre-race anxiety isn’t unique to skiing. Across all sports, the best of the best have confessed to fighting internal battles before stepping into the spotlight. Tennis great Serena Williams once admitted that her hands shook before Grand Slam finals. Michael Phelps, the most decorated Olympian in history, has talked about how his pre-race routines were designed to calm his mind as much as to prepare his body. Even Tom Brady, the NFL legend, has said that the “butterflies” before big games never disappear—they just mean he still cares. These athletes all demonstrate one crucial truth: feeling anxious doesn’t make you unprepared; it means you’re invested.

What separates elite performers from the rest is how they handle those nerves. Shiffrin’s approach is deeply psychological and grounded in routine. She focuses on visualization—mentally skiing through the course, turn by turn—until her body feels the run before it begins. “If I can picture it clearly, I can control my response,” she explained in an interview. This form of mental rehearsal is common in high-performance sports. It reduces uncertainty and allows athletes to enter a state known as “flow,” where focus, confidence, and performance align almost effortlessly.

Still, Shiffrin’s candor about fear challenges an old myth in sports: that confidence must be absolute and emotions should be hidden. For decades, athletes were told to “tough it out,” burying anxiety under stoicism. That mindset is changing, and Shiffrin has become part of a new generation of champions normalizing vulnerability. Her relationship with fellow skier Aleksander Aamodt Kilde, who has also been open about injuries and emotional struggles, further reflects a culture shift in elite sports. Together, they’ve shown that strength isn’t the absence of fear—it’s the courage to keep going despite it.

Experts say this honesty can have a powerful ripple effect. “When someone like Shiffrin speaks about anxiety, it helps remove the stigma for younger athletes,” said Dr. Emily Carter, a sports psychologist who works with Olympic hopefuls. “They realize that even their heroes deal with the same emotions. It makes performance pressure feel more manageable and human.” According to Carter, anxiety can actually enhance performance when channeled effectively—it sharpens alertness, boosts energy, and keeps athletes mentally engaged. The key is reframing it as excitement instead of fear.

Shiffrin’s reduced World Cup schedule ahead of Milano-Cortina also reflects this new mindset. By prioritizing rest, balance, and mental space, she’s signaling that recovery is not a weakness but a strategic choice. “You can’t give 100% every day without burning out,” she said. “Sometimes you need to step back to keep loving what you do.” This philosophy mirrors a growing trend among elite athletes who are learning that sustainable success requires more than physical conditioning—it demands mental care, boundaries, and emotional intelligence.

Her honesty about pre-race jitters might also serve as quiet encouragement to everyday people who face their own “performance moments”—whether that’s giving a presentation, taking an exam, or chasing a personal dream. Anxiety, in any context, can feel paralyzing. But Shiffrin’s story reminds us that it doesn’t have to define us. Instead, it can become a signal that we’re stretching beyond our comfort zone, that something meaningful is at stake.

It’s this balance of vulnerability and control that makes Shiffrin such a compelling figure in sports today. Fans admire her for her dominance on the slopes, but it’s her humanity that truly resonates. She may win races by fractions of a second, but her real victory lies in how she continues to evolve—mentally, emotionally, and personally. Whether she stands on the Olympic podium again in 2026 or not, her legacy is already clear: she’s redefining what it means to be a champion.

As she continues to prepare for the next Winter Olympics, Mikaela Shiffrin’s reflections on anxiety show that greatness isn’t about being fearless—it’s about embracing the nerves, learning from them, and performing anyway. Her journey captures the essence of what athletes—and all of us—must eventually realize: confidence isn’t the absence of fear, it’s the mastery of it.

And perhaps that’s why so many people relate to her story. Beneath the medals, records, and fame, Shiffrin remains someone who still gets butterflies, still questions herself, and still finds the courage to step forward every time the start gate opens. It’s not perfection that makes her inspiring—it’s her willingness to admit that she’s still human.