What do curlers do when they're not at the Olympics?

What do curlers do when they're not at the Olympics?

Would it surprise you to know that Team GB's curlers are full-time?

That they train 12 months a year, with only a couple of weeks holiday during the summer? That they are actually on the ice 44 weeks a year?

That they lift weights like sprinters, strategise like chess players, and fuel like Tour de France cyclists?

It's now 24 years since Rhona Martin delivered the 'Stone of Destiny' in Salt Lake City - watched by millions of rapt viewers in the early hours UK-time - to win Winter Olympic gold for Great Britain.

The nation's first Games gold in 18 years had been won by what was dismissively - and erroneously - described at the time as a group of Scottish housewives in an odd little sport.

It sparked a curiosity in curling that spikes for a couple of weeks every four years.

But aside from that little window into their world, little is known about what they do for the remaining three years and 11 months of an Olympic cycle.

What kind of training do curlers do?

The 10 Scottish curlers who are representing Team GB in Cortina right now are professional athletes.

From the start of July until the end of April - when they are not at a competition somewhere in the world - they will report to the National Curling Academy in Stirling every weekday morning to start training at 08:00.

Each day includes two two-hour ice sessions and one in the gym.

Across a week, three of those gym stints are strength-based and two conditioning. Most athletes will add another at the weekend, just to keep themselves right.

They are supervised - no sitting on a bench next to the weights while doomscrolling for this lot - and are specifically designed with curling in mind.

"It's Olympic lifts we're doing - clean and jerk, snatches, squats, the lot," says men's lead Hammy McMillan. "And we're using ski machines, rowers, and assault bikes to really condition our bodies."

"The numbers we put up, I don't think people would expect them," adds Bobby Lammie, who is credited alongside McMillan as having changed the physicality expected of sweepers.

"It's allowed us to separate ourselves slightly from the rest of the world."

Similar can be said of the women's game, where 2022 gold medallist Jen Dodds - one of the world's best with a brush - is lifting just as much as some of the men.

"More than me, to be fair," admits men's vice-skip Grant Hardie.

"Jen is incredible in the gym," adds Team GB women's skip Rebecca Morrison, who takes a slightly different view of the physical work.

"You need a lot of core strength to even stay upright on the ice," she says.

"Maybe we're not flinging ourselves off massive jumps or sliding down a track at 80 miles per hour, but it's a lot harder than people realise to even keep your balance."

Add in tactical and analysis sessions, meetings with sports psychologist and nutritionists, and physio, and the days quickly become filled.

In May and June, most of those demands disappear, but the strength and conditioning work continues every weekday morning.

At some point during that spell, a couple of weeks are permitted for a holiday, but then the curlers are back at it.

"It's a full-time, all-year round job," says BBC Sport pundit Vicky Wright, who won Olympic women's gold in Beijing four years ago and is married to head coach Greg Drummond.

"May and June are supposed to be your recovery time - and you get a break at some point during those months - but you never have an actual holiday from it. You're curling 44 weeks a year, easily."

How do curlers make a living?

The curlers will be given an annual Athlete Performance Award (APA) by UK Sport.

That will be in one of five tiers so the more pedigree you have, the more money you will be given.

Wright recalls that, when she was in the Olympic cycle for the Beijing Games, she still had to work one day a week as a nurse to supplement her APA enough to get a mortgage.

None of those in Italy this month are in that position, but some pick up some coaching on the side, while others such as Grant Hardie and Sophie Sinclair have an involvement in their family's engineering and farming businesses, respectively.

Add in prize money from the Grand Slam Tour, World Tour and assorted European events - which tends to be capped at around £40,000 - plus the odd little bit of sponsorship, and the income starts to go up.

But let's be clear - none of these curlers are living in luxury, never mind making life-changing money.

"It's fine if you're at the top and winning slams week in, week out," Wright adds. "But if you're not... I'm not saying it's not worth it. It's worth it, but it's difficult."

Bruce Mouat's British men's rink - who won silver at the Olympics four years ago and went into these Games as world champions and gold medal favourites - are in a better position than most.

Their success on the ice has bolstered their APAs, and they opted to employ a management company last year to enhance their prospects away form curling.

Now, they have some commercial partners, as well as doing appearances at events as diverse as the Royal Highland Show and corporate away days.

Mouat has been known to speak to companies about LGBT issues and inclusivity, while Hardie will soon do a talk about the importance of science, technology, engineering and maths in schools.

"But the boys are definitely not making a fortune," said someone close to the team.