Matt Weston's Artistic Approach to Skeleton Racing at 90mph
Britain's latest Winter Olympics gold medal hero, Matt Weston, is engaging in a fascinating discussion about the eternal conflict between art and science while hurtling head-first down an ice chute at speeds exceeding 90 miles per hour. In Weston's perspective, there is only one clear victor in this philosophical battle.
'Art,' he declares emphatically. 'Definitely art.'
Before long, the conversation shifts to his teammate who represents the opposing viewpoint in skeleton racing—the scientific approach. This happens to be Marcus Wyatt, the athlete who was widely predicted to pose the greatest challenge to Weston in Cortina, northern Italy.
The Poetic Experience of Speed
'I stand on that start line and it's both exhilarating and terrifying,' Weston reveals. 'I've been competing in this sport for nine years and have worked extensively with psychologists to prepare mentally, because you absolutely must get your brain ready for what comes next.'
He recounts a recent crash in St Moritz: 'There's a famous corner called Horseshoe where I flew out, landed on my side with such force that it actually bent the steel components of my sled. I'm still experiencing some hip pain from that incident.'
'But when everything aligns perfectly,' he continues, 'it becomes something truly beautiful. How can I possibly describe it? It feels almost like you're flying, floating on air. We talk about being on the very edge of grip—just enough to maintain speed without becoming sluggish. When you find that sweet spot, everything feels completely natural.'
The Rare Feeling of Perfection
'That's the sensation you live for as an athlete,' Weston explains. 'I estimate I experience it maybe once or twice per season. You're moving so rapidly that it feels effortless, with adrenaline coursing through your body. My heart rate can reach the high 180s while I'm trying to remain calm, simply feeling the ice beneath me.'
'That's the artistic element—the vibes,' he emphasizes. 'There are precise lines to follow on any track, and if you deviate even slightly, you're constantly correcting through subsequent turns. Ice conditions change throughout the day, and the optimal line changes with them. You can approach this methodically through scientific analysis, or you can rely on feeling the rhythms and bumps, understanding what feels right intuitively. That's the artistry I truly love.'
Britain's Skeleton Success Story
It's remarkably uncommon to hear an athlete discuss their craft with such poetic sensibility. Even rarer is encountering a British Winter Olympian with such substantial prospects for success just days before his triumph in Milan. Skeleton racing has consistently provided Britain with opportunities to compete against nations blessed with natural winter sports advantages.
In many respects, Britain has effectively appropriated this discipline—Team GB has secured at least one medal in seven of the eight Olympic editions featuring skeleton. Strategic investment has been directed toward finding technical advantages, creating a golden lineage that includes champions like Amy Williams and Lizzy Yarnold.
Now the torch has passed to Weston and Wyatt. At 28 years old, Weston has achieved two world titles within three years, two European gold medals in the same timeframe, and recently claimed his third World Cup series with five victories from seven races. Wyatt won the remaining two races and earned the overall bronze medal.
Olympic Ambitions and Team Dynamics
'I haven't considered anything except Olympic gold, to be completely honest,' Weston states. 'The possibility of silver hasn't even entered my mind. Everything I've worked toward over the past four years has been focused on gold. All the world championships, European championships, and Crystal Globes have been stepping stones leading to this moment.'
It presents a fascinating dynamic that Weston's closest competitor happens to be his own teammate, with Wyatt being six years his senior. Aspects of their relationship might appear unconventional compared to other sports, particularly regarding their sleeping arrangements.
'We end up sharing a bed quite frequently,' Weston admits. 'The most recent instance was in Sigulda, Latvia, just before Christmas. We don't have unlimited resources, so we often share twin bedrooms, which in Europe typically means two single beds pushed together that are difficult to separate.'
'We're quite accustomed to each other by now,' he continues. 'We understand each other's routines—he has his side, I have mine, and we've established this entire arrangement. We sometimes resemble an old married couple, honestly, but we maintain an unwritten agreement that racing competition stays strictly on the track.'
Training Challenges and Funding Realities
'We get along exceptionally well,' Weston emphasizes. 'If Marcus beats me, I'll be the first to congratulate him, and he would do the same for me.'
It might seem extraordinary that these two athletes have reached such heights considering they spend substantial portions of summer and autumn training on a dry push-track in Bath. 'I believe athletes from other nations who grew up with ice and snow are somewhat envious of our results,' Weston observes. 'We rather enjoy that.'
However, it would be misleading to frame this as an underdog narrative. While shared beds indicate certain limitations in their accommodations, UK Sport has invested £5.7 million in lottery funding into skeleton racing during this Olympic cycle. This substantial financial support goes a considerable distance toward acquiring the best available technology for sleds, skinsuits, and wind-tunnel testing.
Learning from Beijing Disappointment
Typically, these technological advantages prove significant. Yet at Beijing 2022, this approach backfired dramatically. Weston and Wyatt introduced sleds designed to revolutionize the sport but proved unexpectedly slow—they finished 15th and 16th respectively.
Having discovered the sport by chance in 2017 during a UK Sport 'talent identification' day where he was informed he possessed ideal physical characteristics, Weston suddenly contemplated quitting after the Beijing disappointment. He nearly did.
'That's absolutely correct, 100 percent,' he confirms. 'The Olympics took a substantial emotional toll, being such a disappointment. It was difficult to accept, but then I shifted my mentality. I simply thought, "Enough wallowing—2026, let's make this right."'
Current results suggest this artist has indeed discovered how to correct course. Results indicate he's flying down the track with precisely enough grip to maintain control without sacrificing any speed during his exhilarating descent in Italy. If all proceeds according to plan, the only individual with any realistic chance of catching him happens to be the person sleeping on the opposite side of his bed.
