Methow Madness

Winter fun for me includes cross country skiing, and recently includes Sarah as well. She's a medical practitioner who skis me into the ground every time we head out.  

Except once. I was on turbo demo skis a day that she was sick. I actually kept up with her somehow. 

Maybe she'll keep me around awhile. Maybe she'll be tired of waiting for me!

(oh, btw....she's from MN and has a 300 page family genealogy going back to the early 1600s...the name on the book is the same as my former Navy roommate from northern Iowa...yep, they are very distant cousins! He has the same book....such a small world sometimes)

People in our area take their skinny skis up to the Methow Valley in North Central Washington, a magnificent network with 120 miles of groomed trails connecting the towns of Winthrop and Mazama. A few hours north of Lake Chelan, it's a place I've wanted to visit for years. 

Back story; I noticed (friend of a friend) Jim online and saw that he was all over the athletic world as well as the military, so I reached out and started a dialog 4 years ago. In 2021, I took a Seattle consulting job and had an awesome meetup with Jim, not far from the first house I ever owned near the Bremerton shipyard. 

Turns out, Jim and his lovely wife Janet are huge nordic skiers, and they own a house in Winthrop. 

As Sarah and I tentatively planned on a 50k ski race, we figured a training camp would be helpful. I reached out to Jim for advice on the area, and he graciously offered housing. Game on!

About an 8 hour drive north. We stopped in the German hamlet of Leavenworth. Ribs, braut, slaw...

And a monster pretzel...

Onward. Jim was nursing a cold, so we brought some medicine in the form of Pendleton Whiskey (Janet fired up the old fashioneds shortly after this picture). 

I have NEVER seen a private setup like this madness; a garage worthy of the (Nordic) Smithsonian...I'm going to invest in ski wax futures, because Jim is driving the prices way up. 

Mama, I'm home...

 

Not sure if this is Mt Bachelor in Bend, or Methow Valley. Just a pretty shot regardless...

First day was a warmup loop with our hosts on Sun Mountain, one of several major areas in the Valley. Then we ventured out on our own. My initial goal was to do 4 hrs a day at a slow pace. 

Anyone ever bit off more than they could chew? 

We somehow did 4.5 hours, albeit with plenty of stops, and somehow limped home. Jim and Janet's neighborhood has ski in, ski out capability, so we slid into the driveway hooting and hollering (and coughing up a lung or two). 

Dinner was incredible pizza at Rolling Huts. Jim noted that I nearly did a face-plant in the marinara, eyes drooping. 

Second day was for demo skis. We stopped at Winthrop Mountain Sports where Jim introduced us to his good friend Erik Bjornsen, 2-time Olympian, brother of another Olympian, and husband to yet another world class skier. 

The store is decked out with photos. Can't remember if this is Erik, or Gus K (another world class beast). The form looks a bit better than mine. 

This is Marine, aka Mrs Erik

This is what a gold medal looks like....HERE COMES DIGGINS!!

Pretty sure Nordic skiers are among the most fit. Below is Jessie's Olympic relay teammate Kikkan, her good friend Kris Freeman, and all of their abs. 

Tuesday was two easy hours to recover. Sarah's demo skis made her even faster, so I might have to hide her poles or something

Tried to have lunch at the Four Seasons below, but they lost our reservation. 

Dinner was a bison beef Bolognese that I whipped up. Bear approved...

Day 3 was Thompson Ridge, a 3-4 mile uphill grind with 1400' of climbing. I needed a gurney and an IV bag while Sarah just kept yawning thru the climbs. At least the return trip was easier, though some of the trails hadn't been groomed for a few days. 

Day 4 was a one way, $1 bus ride to Mazama. A quick run through the Country Store, where I saw this good looking beast that I was hungry enough to eat raw...

Now it was a 30k, 19 mile trip home down the Methow Community Trail (MCT). The first third was a gorgeous, slight downhill, including the Suspension Bridge. 

The middle section of the MCT is in the woods and the foothills. Meaning, uphills. Ugh. Speedy Gonzalez took off, and I slogged my way up in her wake. Brown's Farm to Wolf Ridge (lower blue section) was a bit of nastiness....

Then the last third was in the open valley, also gorgeous. 

Bear and Sarah are around the same weight, but his ski form isn't quite as good. 

Loading up and heading out after a fantastic week. 

On the trip up thru Leavenworth, we stumbled across a few amazing looking restaurants after lunch. So we made a note and went back to try Ludwig's. 

The spaetzle was ok but needing something....maybe some healthy vegetables. Or lots of bacon gravy. 

Pretzels always work!

As do pork chops, schnitzel, braut, red cabbage, potato salad. 

As a young-un, I remember driving cross country for hours without stopping. At my current, uh, ADVANCED age with three lumbar surgeries on my CV, it's much better to switch drivers every hour and stretch for 5 minutes! The trip went very smoothly. 

Many thanks to Jim and Janet for an amazing week and incredible hospitality. 

If you like that kind of skiing, you can't do much better than Methow Valley. 

Back on the skinny skis...

What a winter....

Record snowfalls. Roofs collapsing. Lots of snow days: my daughter actually starting wishing her school would re-open.

Just a mess. 

What kind of idiot tries to train for a marathon in these conditions?

Guilty as charged, Your Honor.

I had planned on running the Eugene Marathon in May. Indeed, my fall fitness was improving nicely, and my metrics were looking very good. This was the first time in awhile that I spent a couple of months doing little except long, slow distance. And most of that was on dirt trails. Huge difference.

Then a local pro runner fell on black ice and fractured her shinbone in several places.

Yeah, let's rethink this running through the winter thing. I don't want to do 30+ hours a week on a treadmill again.

Hmmmm...there's these long skinny things in my garage that haven't gotten much use in the last 3-4 years. Nordic skis.

Why fight the conditions? I don't mind running in the cold, but I do mind slipping and falling and breaking parts of my body. Take what I'm given, right?

Right.

A few years ago, I skied all winter and didn't run more than a few times. Then I ran a 5k and smoked it, on nothing but Nordic legs.

Ok, FINE.

I  bought my skis at a swap meet. Not ideal for me, they are sized for someone smaller, and ski flex is a very critical issue. Time to get real gear.

The local guru told me to visit Webskis: they will fit me in a suitable pair and won't sell me anything that won't work. They sized me up and gave me a test pair to try, saying these will be the difference between a Chevy and a BMW.

And they were right! Wow, big difference. I could notice the change, even though it was a few years since my last workout like this.

Then I made a calculated decision: if I could ski much better on these skis after virtually no skiing in 4 years, then I want to buy skis another step up in performance so I'd had something to grow into. They warned me about the trade-off: faster skis are looser, more unstable. You need to be a better skier to make them work well, so it's critical to have better form.

Fischer RCR Skate Skis...awfully purdy. And fast. 

I started doing running-type workouts; mostly 350m intervals to work on form. Very quickly, my speed jumped while effort level became manageable. Meaning, less like an all-out exercise in trying not to red line with every stride.

The best Nordic skiers have better physiology markers than Steve Prefontaine. It's a hard, hard sport. More so when your technique is lacking.

Anyhow, my form quickly returned. Felt really good to glide, as always. Ten minutes faster on a hilly five mile loop. And it's fun, too.

And fresh air, besides.

Of course, I need to try things I haven't tried before. Like the Great Nordeen: 18k or 30k, with some screaming downhill from Mt Bachelor Resort. Hmmmm....30k? That's about 19 miles. My previous long was a 10k. And that was a few years ago.

But I was still thinking about it. Until I looked at a topographical map and saw long gradual climbs after 14 miles. Maybe next year.

In the meantime....race day morning had an amazing sunrise. 

I felt a little tired early, like I was missing some zip. Did a full warmup with dynamic stretching, so I don't know...

The downhills were pretty crazy, max speed 28mph. I need to work on my footwork; at one point, I lost control and 'fell' into a snowbank. More like I simply leaned over and the snow kept me from falling. 

Best mile: 3:42....that's pretty quick for me. 

The long gradual uphills weren't very steep, but I was short on power. And part of the course didn't get groomed due to mechanical breakdowns. Made for slow going at times. 

The last 5k was nice. Gradual downhill, hard snow, and I simply worked on form while going pretty fast. I keep adding to the distance where I can cruise at that speed. The skis felt a lot more stable than the last two times, and I'm not sure why. Growing into them, I guess. And I'm not arguing. 

I think the course was around 1k short, my watch showed 10.2 miles. 1:08 overall, pleased with that. The 30k course joined up with the 18k course near the end, and a small number of the longer racer went past. Those guys are very fit. 

VERY glad I didn't attempt the longer version. I would have been toast. 

Two weeks later, my company entered a team in a benefit ski/snowshoe event. Ski as much or as little as you want, for a nominal $10 fee. 

Great! Except I was sick for the better part of the previous week. No workouts for 8 days, lousy sleep, lots of congestion and fatigue. I was finally able to get back on the skis the day before the event, just to start getting my legs back. 

Race morning, and I'm feeling yesterday's work in my legs. No expectations: just stay smooth. 

It went better than expected. 20k covered, about 12 miles, and some really nice high speed cruising at times. An hour and 43 minutes, 35 minutes farther than my previous long workout, and that one was half downhill with lots of coasting. Today was flat, which meant consistent effort. And all this only one day removed from an extended hiatus. 

Oh, and then there's this....

Four years ago, I remember skiing on a day when a social service organization had an outing with their menntally challenged clientele. This group was routinely showcased in the newspaper for their efforts. 

One of the guys was around 35. He and his brother both seem to enjoy skiing, and are pretty sunny and cheerful out there. Back when I saw them last, the one guy was hootin' and hollerin' as I skied past. I think I stopped to watch....at one point, the guy changed his focus, looked directly at me, and yelled, "YOU'RE FIRED!" Then he howled with laughter. 

Cracked me up. 

Today, I saw the same guy, skiing the oval. And I smiled. 

It was a good day. 

Wrap-Up to the Winter Season

I actually started to get sick of cross country skiing.

Twice a week since December sure paid off. But too much of anything is sometimes not a good thing.

Until I got Spanky into it.

                                     

This was right before she let fly with that little thing in her hand.

And I even talked her into trying a race, the third time on skinny skis.

The good news is, she wasn't last. Not bad for a rookie. The better news is that she likes the sport. So we did a little 4 mile round trip from Mt Bachelor to Todd Lake.

On the way back, though, her blood sugar plummeted. Made for a long slog home.

If you're still debating the merits of Nordic skiing for fitness, consider this: I've run exactly 4 times since the Portland Marathon in October, yet two days ago I set a personal best for a 5k race at 22:09. That's 30 seconds faster than I did at the end of last summer, a full season of training. All I've done over the winter is two fitness classes and the cross country skiing each week. And a bit of cycling on the rollers.

True, the fitness classes are brutal; lots of lunges and plyometrics and core work. The skiing is harder. But it all helped get me ready for the running season.

Incidentally, that personal best goes back to pre-1990. I don't recommend taking 20 years off.

Par for the Course: XC Ski Race Part 2

It's nice to know people who are good teachers.

Before Par Part I, I had one day's experience on skate skis. A friend at work gave me a 30 second lesson and it helped me get through the toughest 10 kilometers of my life the next day. After the first lap, I told the organizers that I'd understand if they had to close down before I finished (about a  day and a half later...).

Anyhow, I took a lesson shortly after that, and vowed to get on the skis twice a week until the second part of the race. The appeal for this event was that the winner would be the one who improves the most.

Nowhere to go but up.

3 months later, it's show time. Again.

My daughter, as much a skate ski novice as I was, bravely took on the kids' 1k race and finished somewhere other than last. Great job, Spanky!

Skate skiing is brutal without solid technique, and the effort to learn scares a lot of people away. She did a super job, even though it was exhausting. Meanwhile, Kristen took her first lesson in classic technique and loved it.

Then I left the starter's gate. 15 degrees and snowy, but all I needed was a t-shirt, a long sleeve over that, and a headband. And pants, of course. Game plan for the two laps was to conserve for the first 3 miles, then double down and put the cards on the table.

And that is exactly what happened.

Last time, I was one of the last to start. This time, one of the first. I figured the ones behind would be blowing my doors in after a short while.

But they didn't. At least not too fast. The ones who passed me didn't have a huge speed advantage. Stay smooth. Glide, Clyde.

Second lap, feeling tired but ok. I look at my watch; if I keep this up, I'll be almost 30 minutes faster than last time.  Let's go. Time to empty the tank.

More of the same; stay focused, cut the tangents as much as possible, use the core. And keep relaxed.

A guy comes past with a quarter mile to go. I stick on him and we pick it up. Into the last straight and over the line, I'm right behind him.

When I was a kid, I would run 10k in 42 minutes without too much trouble. Today, I was going much faster, or thought I was. The clock said differently and showed the same time: age has the ability to distort reality.

Whatever. I ended up 27:30 quicker than last time. The next best improvement was 10 minutes. And my second lap was 10 seconds faster than the first. Happiness is a negative split.

Sweet. First race 'won' since third grade.

On the drive home, all I could think of was, "how come I didn't get past that guy at the end? I could have pushed a little more." Words of the truly committed (or at least one who should be).

I figured out what I like about swimming and nordic skiing; they are so utterly dependent on good technique. When you get older and the wheels aren't quite as fast, you look for anything to improve upon. And since my brain works better than body at this point, it's easier to learn the right way.

So why the big difference between first and second in improved time? Easy. It wasn't the better wax, the improved form, the snow conditions.

No, it's simpler than that. No one else 45 yrs old is stupid enough to start trying brutal and unfamiliar endurance sports. And improving is easy when you start at the bottom.

If that's all it takes, count me in. I have no pride (anymore).

Houston, we have a problem...

Getting pretty disciplined with the nordic skiing, and I'm nervously psyched to get through Part II of the race.

But today was a little ridiculous.

Got ahead of my work schedule a bit so I could leave at 2pm and get some work done on the snow. FWIW, I'm starting to get sick of the drive up the mountain. 23 miles or so, and the asphalt is horrendous. Hey ODOT, can you put Century Drive on the repaving schedule, pretty please?

I usually keep all seasonal gear including boots and skis in the car at all times; helpful for when I get a wild hair. Works great for swimming and running, too; always have clothes and such on hand, and it will cut down on excuses. Harder to keep a bike on the rack around the clock, especially with a garage. But you get the point.

Anyhoo, I arrive at the Nordic Lodge only to remember that I had taken my gloves out of the car. Crap. But every Lodge is going to have a huge box of stuff that others have left behind. So I ask to borrow a pair. Decent thickness, good dexterity, and cool-looking. Very important when it's mid-afternoon and there's about three people scattered among 56k of trails.

Feeling not so good as I move out. Kind of sluggish and heavy. Might be the snow conditions in combination with the wrong ski wax; that's a topic I need to learn about. For now, though, let's get some work done.

About 3k out from base camp, my hands begin to get numb. Fought it off as long as I could until the fun factor disappeared. I can handle muscle/lung pain better than the average bear, but cold extremities make a boy miserable. Fast.

Trying to get back as quickly as possible, I had to stop multiple times and shove my hands under my arms, between my legs, anyplace warm. Note: hands down pants is a hard way to ski uphill.

Yeah, the downhill plunge away from the lodge didn't help the windchill factor. Now I have to slog against gravity. And remember, I'm a lousy (ie slow) skier to begin with. The extra exertion keeps my torso warm but does nothing for my fingers.

Finally back in the lodge and damn near hugging the enormous wood stove. Carol at the desk tells me the temperature has dropped to 10 degrees. Meanwhile, I'm sweating and freezing at the same time.

Then it gets worse.

I doubt that I've entered the frostbite zone, since I wasn't outside for very long. But man o man, now my hands hurt.

Bad.

Thawing out all right, and too fast. Hard to describe the sensation; aching, compression, just a worse than  lousy feeling. Like having a really bad flu. And a bit scary since I've never been sick from cold before: I don't know what's going to happen next. This is bizarre.

Including the nausea. That's the part that got me concerned. I figured my hands would eventually come around, but now I literally feel sick. Carol kept an eye on me until the color returned to normal (incidentally, thanks for the coffee, CM). Then I shuffled off to the car and the coast downhill.

Probably a close call, and it could have been much worse.

Mistakes:

• Forgetting the gloves at home. Not really a big deal; if I would have skied without any gloves at all, that would have been really stupid. I knew I could get a loaner pair
• Not checking the weather forecast right before I hit the trails. Things can change quickly at elevation.
• Taking a 5-fingered set of racing gloves instead of industrial strength one or even mittens
• Maybe a bad idea skiing alone at my skill level on a very cold day with few others around.

I'm ready for springtime and rain running. All that happens there is I get wet.

XC Skiing (continued)

Been getting up to Mt Bachelor or the nearby snow park twice a week so I can get this damned sport down.

As a runner, I always knew that running was the hardest sport there was.

Until I decided on triathlons. Swimming is just nasty.

I would never drown, but also would never get anywhere quickly or in a hurry. Triathlons force you to become efficient in the water. But, it's sooo hard. Must be the hardest sport out there, even harder than running.

Until I found cross country skiing. Specifically, skate skiing.

For the Pole Pedal Paddle, my third time on Nordic skis, many who know better suggested I stick to classic style, staying in the tracks. It's slower, but easier. And I have less chance of blowing up.

Slower is right. I could have gone faster backwards.

So this year's goal was to really learn skate skiing so I can get fast. And it's coming along, especially after taking a lesson.

Last weekend, I hit the Nordic trails at Bachelor for a workout. Since the Par for the Course race trail wasn't marked, I did a couple of 4k repeats over the bulk of the trail. The goal was to stay a half-step below red-lining and see if I had improved at all.

Concentrate on the glide, glide, glide. Stay in low gear and keep going.

Lap 1: 18:03. Not bad, but really hard. Next rep, go a little easier and keep it together.
Lap 2: 18:20. I thought it was going to be a few minutes slower.

I took 4-5 minutes between reps to recover. On the second day of racing a month from now, if I can maintain this pace, I'll finish in about 45 minutes. Over the 10k course, that would be a cool 29 minute improvement!

And since the most improved skier takes home the bacon, I might have a shot.

More to come.

Par for the Course: XC Ski Race Part 1

Coming from the world of road racing, I always figured the winter was for watching the diet and recuperating.

Then I moved to Central Oregon.

If you don't get used to the cold, you're losing a couple of months each year. Not that I mind harsh weather; last year, I did a run at 0530 one morning with the mercury reading minus 20F. Had a great run except for a couple of problems:

1) My feet. Two pair of socks weren't enough.

2) My eyes: I forgot to wear my contacts that morning.

Was smart enough to wrap a scarf around my head, so all skin was covered. But every exhaled breath condensed on my glasses. Functionally blind! And since I'm beyond 20/400 on a normal day, I'm not exactly seeing the fine print. Or any print. But it was pretty cool to be running down the middle of Wall Street without any traffic to get in my way.

The Mount Bachelor Sports Education Foundation has a great menu of winter events, both Nordic and Downhill. And with my rapid advancement into GeezerHood, I'm thinking that Alpine is the quickest path to a shortened outdoor season (torn ligaments and the like).

Now, I've always read that cross country skiing is probably the hardest aerobic activity out there. Being a hard headed long distance runner/plodder, every other cardio sport has always been a second class sport. But then I began swimming. And then I tried XC skiing.

Classic technique is tough enough. Problem is, it's also slow if you're clueless like me. But it's not nearly as taxing as skate/freestyle. Back at the Pole Pedal Paddle, I went classic so I wouldn't crater too soon. Good advice, but man was I sloth-like. So this year, I committed to learning how to skate effectively.

Then my pal Scott tells me he can't ski with me on Dec. 11th because he's doing a race. "You should try it," he says. "It's only 10k. Piece of cake."

Scott's a guy who recently ran from Bend (elevation 3400') to the base of Mt Bachelor (elevation 6300'), 22 miles uphill. THEN he ran from the Sunrise Lodge to the Summit. Lunatic.

Anyhow, I looked into the race. It's a two-part event, with the second part in late February. And the overall winner is the person with the most improved time.

Now I'm interested.

So my second day on skate skis, I'm sliding up to the starting line. Just glad to be there; for the 20 mile drive, I left home 45 minutes before registration closed. And of course, the road uphill is clogged with people driving 20 mph. I finally make the parking lot and sprint into the Nordic Center with a cool 45 seconds to spare.

As a result, I'm the third-last skier to start. 6.2 miles over two laps, with racers starting every 30 seconds. And it's been raining 38F all morning. So I'm standing in soup on the starting line.

Skis are very slow in soup.

Good thing I work with some great skiers. The day before, friend Veronica gave me a 30 second crash course; glide on one ski with all weight on that ski, then push sideways with the abductors. And she showed my the timing for poling with V-1 technique, which she called 'the small ring.' As in a bicycle's small chainring, as in the fallback gear.

After 5k, I'm all alone. Heck, after 300 yards, I was all alone.

The last kilometer of the first lap was mostly uphill, just brutal. I got to the starting line, coughing up my toenails, and told the timers that I wouldn't be upset if they wanted to close it down. "No, you're doing great!" they said.

"Make you a deal," says I. "I'll keep going as long as you find someone to do a cool down lap. I might need a little help." They laughed.

But they also didn't send any help. I was serious, guys.

Oh well. I slogged through, got back to the line, and somehow it was still daylight. Dead last by a country mile or 3.

Turns out my poles were way short. Yeah, that was the problem, all right; bad equipment. The next week, I took a lesson.

I'm gonna win this sucker. The final segment is on 27 February.