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).
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Thursday, February 3, 2011
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:
I'm ready for springtime and rain running. All that happens there is I get wet.
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.
Monday, January 24, 2011
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.
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.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
1979 Golden Mile
I was 14 years old and a huge track fan. Loved watching Steve Scott run: he ran against all comers, he ducked no one, and always competed with his guts on his sleeve.
Scottie was one of the favorites in this ridiculously fast field that included John Walker ('76 Gold Medalist, the WR holder, and only man under 3:50), Eamonn Coghlan of Ireland and Villanova and a monster last 200m, Thomas Wessinghage the fastest Doctor alive, et al.
The one who stayed home was Steve Ovett, who was in the middle of a multi-year undefeated streak in the 1500. The Brits instead sent youngster Sebastian Coe, an enormous lad at 119 pounds who recently broke the 800m world record.
This race was televised on NBC; I clearly remember watching.
Steve Lacy does the pace work for 2 laps, then drops out. He is timed in 1:54.5, perfect pace. My man Scottie bulls his way forward, running as fast as the future day when he completed an 18-hole round of golf in 29 minutes. I'm on the edge of my seat, urging him faster. He is on pace to hit 1200m in 2:52, even though the skinny kid comes by at the bell.
Huh? Coe is a lot of things: a future member of Parliment, a soon-to-be knighted Lord Coe, but he's no miler.
Someone forgot to tell him.
Around the 7th turn, he's gone. Scottie can't hold on, and the rest of the pack is far back. Coe keeps striding, not an ounce of pain or tightness in his face, and he rips a half second from Walker's world record.
I guess he is a miler after all. Oh yes, he also ended his career as the only 2-time Olympic 1500m Gold Medalist.
Scottie was one of the favorites in this ridiculously fast field that included John Walker ('76 Gold Medalist, the WR holder, and only man under 3:50), Eamonn Coghlan of Ireland and Villanova and a monster last 200m, Thomas Wessinghage the fastest Doctor alive, et al.
The one who stayed home was Steve Ovett, who was in the middle of a multi-year undefeated streak in the 1500. The Brits instead sent youngster Sebastian Coe, an enormous lad at 119 pounds who recently broke the 800m world record.
This race was televised on NBC; I clearly remember watching.
Steve Lacy does the pace work for 2 laps, then drops out. He is timed in 1:54.5, perfect pace. My man Scottie bulls his way forward, running as fast as the future day when he completed an 18-hole round of golf in 29 minutes. I'm on the edge of my seat, urging him faster. He is on pace to hit 1200m in 2:52, even though the skinny kid comes by at the bell.
Huh? Coe is a lot of things: a future member of Parliment, a soon-to-be knighted Lord Coe, but he's no miler.
Someone forgot to tell him.
Around the 7th turn, he's gone. Scottie can't hold on, and the rest of the pack is far back. Coe keeps striding, not an ounce of pain or tightness in his face, and he rips a half second from Walker's world record.
I guess he is a miler after all. Oh yes, he also ended his career as the only 2-time Olympic 1500m Gold Medalist.
Monday, January 3, 2011
2011 Goals
Might as well write them down and make it official.
Athletics:
1:45 half marathon (Eugene): an 11 minute PR
4:00 marathon (Portland): a 30 minute PR (seized up last time)
6:10 Half Ironman (Lake Stevens): an 80 minute PR (last one was first tri of any length, so I throttled way back, just wanting to finish in one piece)
Survive Hood to Coast Relay
Things I'm doing now to make these happen:
Twice a week core/lower body strength classes
More stretching and yoga
Monthly massage (and not just when I'm hurting)
Cycling on rollers
More intensity, less often
Modifying diet to drop 10-15 pounds
XC skiing
I'll do several sprint/Olympic distance triathlons in early summer for fine tuning.
Non-fitness goals:
Finish tricking out the garage
Find a publisher for novel
Take an occasional nap
Don't think so much
Don't be so hard on myself or on others
Athletics:
1:45 half marathon (Eugene): an 11 minute PR
4:00 marathon (Portland): a 30 minute PR (seized up last time)
6:10 Half Ironman (Lake Stevens): an 80 minute PR (last one was first tri of any length, so I throttled way back, just wanting to finish in one piece)
Survive Hood to Coast Relay
Things I'm doing now to make these happen:
Twice a week core/lower body strength classes
More stretching and yoga
Monthly massage (and not just when I'm hurting)
Cycling on rollers
More intensity, less often
Modifying diet to drop 10-15 pounds
XC skiing
I'll do several sprint/Olympic distance triathlons in early summer for fine tuning.
Non-fitness goals:
Finish tricking out the garage
Find a publisher for novel
Take an occasional nap
Don't think so much
Don't be so hard on myself or on others
Runner's Burnout
I mentioned to a friend Chris Solinsky's ridiculous 26:59 10,000m, not to mention the last 800m in 1:56. My friend asked if high schoolers would be inspired or discouraged upon hearing of a pro runner’s extraordinary times?
Speaking from experience, I became very discouraged at that age when my progress wasn’t as rapid as I felt it should be, especially given the strenuous workouts and intervals upon intervals. So I burned out and didn’t run competitively for 20+ yrs.
However (Key point), NO ONE told me that the best runners hit their peaks in their late 20’s, or that many, many top runners don’t show much promise until college or even later. Kenny Moore never won a race in HS, Frank Shorter didn’t become a top American runner until late in college when he started doing twice-a-days, etc…
The Rupps and Prefontaines and Adam Gouchers of the world are the exception rather than the rule.
Maybe advise the young runners to enjoy the sport for its own sake and not worry/obsess about results. If it’s meant to happen, it’ll happen, but only with the right amount of easy workouts and adequate recovery. It’s not always a linear progression, so you can’t gauge progress based on how quickly or regularly the improvement comes. And for God’s sake, don’t measure yourself against anyone else; it’s not fair to you, and it doesn’t help. If you can only do 6 repeat quarters at 70 and someone else does a dozen at 62, it’s better to gradually build over time rather than try to get it done in one season.
I always thought 3 mile easy runs were for the birds. Now I know better, 30 years later.
To wit: last yr I ran up to 12 miles at a shot in training for the Eugene Half Marathon, with a base period of 3 months, before I got injured (too much too soon). I seized up in the race and struggled mightily in the last 4 miles. This year, I did 3 months of 3 runs per wk, none more than 3 miles until late Feb. Then I built up SLOWLY to a whopping 6 miles. I think I did 10 miles total in my biggest week.
I was very apprehensive at my relative lack of fitness on race day. So I started slow, picked up at 9 miles, and tore up the track in the sprint to the tune of a final 200m in 32 seconds. Ended with the same overall time as last year, but in a MUCH better physical/mental state.
Oh yeah, I was sick for the two weeks prior to the race and ran maybe twice. Tapering is not a myth.
Oh yeah, I was sick for the two weeks prior to the race and ran maybe twice. Tapering is not a myth.
Lesson learned: the build phase must be gradual, low stress, and it cannot be rushed. Extrapolate over several years, and great things can happen. If it works for a 45-year old, then a high schooler has very few limits.
Meanwhile, I’m starting my 7 yr old daughter on a steady diet of squat thrusts and mountain climbers. If she builds up the locomotive muscle groups now a la Sebastian Coe, it can only help later. J
Friday, December 31, 2010
Best Athletics Books (Ever?)
Here's what is on my shelves:
The Perfect Mile, by Neal Bascomb. Fantastically written, it does a phenomenal job of documenting the lives of Santee, Landy, and that British guy, Dr. What's his Name.
The Four Minute Mile, by the aforementioned Doctor. Plain spoken, less technical, more nuts and bolts. This man did it with 30-45 minutes of running on his lunch hour while finishing medical school. Today's so-called 'multi-taskers' are mere posers in comparison.
Running with the Buffaloes, by Chris Lear. Follow the Colorado XC team through a trying season, while their leader, Adam Goucher, brings it home with an NCAA win. I saw Mr. Goucher run at the 2008 Trials; the man is iron.
Better Runs, by Joe Henderson. Good advice for relics like me who think they can run again.
The Perfect Distance, by Pat Butcher. Breathtaking depiction of the rivalry between Steve Ovett and Sebastian Coe. For those who saw their races, we won't forgot the talent and power of these two men. I'd love to add these gents to my list of people to see at the 2012 Trials, but:
Bowerman and the Men of Oregon, by Kenny Moore. The book that prompted me back into running after 20 years. Not enough adjectives to describe the prose. Brilliant writing, just brilliant.
Out of Nowhere, by Geoff Hollister. While not a professional writer, he tells amazing stories of his days in field support of Coe, Ovett, Henry Rono, and (!) Elton John.
Run with the Champions, by Marc Bloom. Training secrets from the fast, faster, and fastest.
The Olympics' Most Wanted, by Floyd Conner. A compilation of Olympics trivia that only a track hack could love.
The Last Protest: Lee Evans in Mexico City, by Frank Murphy. A telling biography of a tough, tough man. He ran 6 races in 5 days, a brutal schedule for a 400m runner, and set two world records along the way. The running may have been easier than his desire to make a valid statement in the face of massive opposition.
Gold in the Water, by P.H. Mullen. Heart-wrenching true story of Olympic dreams tainted with chlorine.
My Losing Season, by Pat Conroy. The man can write, and the boy could dribble a basketball.
Dead Solid Perfect, by Dan Jenkins. While I'm not sure about golf being voted into the Olympics, this has got to be the funniest book I've ever seen.
Please give your recommendations. I always look for more quality reading.
The Perfect Mile, by Neal Bascomb. Fantastically written, it does a phenomenal job of documenting the lives of Santee, Landy, and that British guy, Dr. What's his Name.
The Four Minute Mile, by the aforementioned Doctor. Plain spoken, less technical, more nuts and bolts. This man did it with 30-45 minutes of running on his lunch hour while finishing medical school. Today's so-called 'multi-taskers' are mere posers in comparison.
Running with the Buffaloes, by Chris Lear. Follow the Colorado XC team through a trying season, while their leader, Adam Goucher, brings it home with an NCAA win. I saw Mr. Goucher run at the 2008 Trials; the man is iron.
Better Runs, by Joe Henderson. Good advice for relics like me who think they can run again.
The Perfect Distance, by Pat Butcher. Breathtaking depiction of the rivalry between Steve Ovett and Sebastian Coe. For those who saw their races, we won't forgot the talent and power of these two men. I'd love to add these gents to my list of people to see at the 2012 Trials, but:
- Coe is a bit busy planning the next Olympics
- Ovett lives Down Under somewhere (watch his kick in this race)
- Neither are American citizens.
Bowerman and the Men of Oregon, by Kenny Moore. The book that prompted me back into running after 20 years. Not enough adjectives to describe the prose. Brilliant writing, just brilliant.
Out of Nowhere, by Geoff Hollister. While not a professional writer, he tells amazing stories of his days in field support of Coe, Ovett, Henry Rono, and (!) Elton John.
Run with the Champions, by Marc Bloom. Training secrets from the fast, faster, and fastest.
The Olympics' Most Wanted, by Floyd Conner. A compilation of Olympics trivia that only a track hack could love.
The Last Protest: Lee Evans in Mexico City, by Frank Murphy. A telling biography of a tough, tough man. He ran 6 races in 5 days, a brutal schedule for a 400m runner, and set two world records along the way. The running may have been easier than his desire to make a valid statement in the face of massive opposition.
Gold in the Water, by P.H. Mullen. Heart-wrenching true story of Olympic dreams tainted with chlorine.
My Losing Season, by Pat Conroy. The man can write, and the boy could dribble a basketball.
Dead Solid Perfect, by Dan Jenkins. While I'm not sure about golf being voted into the Olympics, this has got to be the funniest book I've ever seen.
Please give your recommendations. I always look for more quality reading.
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