Fighting the Feng Shui

My little house is just too darn comfortable.  It's warm and cozy and happy, and once I'm in it, I'm not leaving.  Whether I bike or bus to work, I never get home before 7:00, and once I walk in the door, the odds that I will change clothes and get in my car and head out for a workout are ... zero.

So this week I managed a couple of two-fers that allowed me to get in some good workouts before I even went home.  I biked to work almost every day, and one day I did the park-at-Fremont-Bridge-and-roller-ski combo, which is both super fun and a great workout, before heading home.  Another day I threw my running shoes into my bike pack and detoured to Discovery Park on my way home, where I locked up my bike, changed shoes, and headed into the cool green delicious forest for 45 minutes of hiking and jogging, a riot of birds singing and the setting sun slanting through the green branches at that impossibly gorgeous angle we get this time of the year, so far north.  Afterward, I biked down the long hill and through the locks and up the long hill to home and shower and dinner and the sleep of the exhausted.  Friday was Norwegian Independence Day, and the first time in the history of Kongsbergers that no one roller skied in the parade.  So sad, but I biked to the parade anyway and found a bunch of my friends to spectate with.  After the parade, we headed to Mike's Chili Parlor for chili and hamburgers and beers and conversation and loud riotous singing of Norwegian songs.  Then, very late, Kare and Aase squeezed my great big bike and my long-legged self into their car and kindly gave me a ride home.

On Saturday I needed waffles, so I biked early to the Honey Bear Bakery at Third Place Books in Lake Forest Park and met my friend for pumpkin waffles and chai and catching up.  When I headed back out onto the Burke Gilman toward home a couple of hours later, I was amazed, AMAZED! at the quantity of packs of cyclists heading north, not all of them being generous about sharing the trail with a lone biker heading south.  I salmoned against the flow until I reached the road that turns off toward 65th, then decided to take my chances with car traffic instead of the crazy throng of bikes.  I roller coasted 65th to Green Lake, then roller coasted 83rd to Ballard and home, just before a misty light rain started falling.

Today I had time for another two-fer.  First I drove to the locks and roller skied up to Discovery Park, where I did four seven-minute-ish repeats on the medium-sized hill.  Nothing too vigorous, but it hasn't been that long since Brad gave me some excellent striding pointers at a Wednesday night headlamp race and my legs and arms remembered, pulling me up the hill in happy synchronicity.  And before heading back to the locks, I checked out another gentle double-poling hill that I will be making good use of this summer.

Then I drove to Cougar Mountain for an hour and a half of hiking and jogging on the trails, drinking in the bird song and blooming flowers and fresh green air.  Sultry days are coming, but at least this week, the weather was deliciously gray and cool and perfect for squeezing in as many workouts as possible before the siren call of my home pulls me in!

Finding a Way

Martin was in Santa Fe for a conference last week, so being only one hour away instead of nine, we actually had time to connect with a long phone call.  We talked about many things; I told him about my new job (challenging, exciting, frustrating, inspiring, all in the same day, sometimes in the same hour) and my more time-consuming, car-free commuting situation, and he said my work life is not conducive to good training.

He's right, but it's okay. I’m not a great ski racer, like he is; I’m not even a very good one.  But I love to ski because, among many other things, it connects me to people I like and admire.  I like signing up for races because training for them adds focus and structure to my outside-of-work life and keeps me from turning into someone who just reads books all weekend.  This year I'm aging up to a new age group, so being the youngster in my group adds a little impetus to the year's training plan and, work constraints be damned, inspires me to find a way to squeeze it all in.

And this weekend, that meant tugboat races!   First I rode my bike downtown to the free gym in my office building (because, yeah, I don't get enough of riding downtown during the work week), and moved some heavy metal up and down and back and forth.  Then I headed to the waterfront for the Seattle Maritime Festival and the tugboat races.  I am crazy for tugboats, so to see a pack of them churning down Elliott Bay at full speed was a deep visceral thrill.

After the races, I took a longer way home and ended up going through the locks, and then pedaling up the steep Golden Gardens hill toward home.  There have been times when that hill seems a little too daunting, but this wasn't one of them.  Yay, muscles!

An Exclamation of Green

This is what happens in Seattle when we have sunshine and mild temperatures for a whole week: the world explodes in an ecstasy of bird song and blooming flowers and soft sweet air and a million shades of green, more than the eye can count.  I wanted to be outside every minute, but of course, I have this job thing.  So I made the best of my time: I headed out early every morning for a brisk half-hour walk, down a long hill and up a long hill, to get my winter-lazy joints ready for the rigors of trail running to come.  Then I biked to work, my face turned to the sunshine, my nose searching out the trail-side lilacs, my ears listening for birds (and cars).

One day I even managed a three-fer; after my walk, I put my bike on my car, parked near the Fremont Bridge, biked to work, biked back, put my bike back on my car, and then did a good solid 45 minutes of double poling on my roller skis on the ship canal trail, then drove home.  I was a little worried that my car wouldn't be there when I got back, but it turned out to be  an okay parking space, and I thought I might forget about it and ride all the way home, but I was so excited to see if this three-fer would work that I didn't forget at all, and it worked great: a full day of work, plus more than two hours of training, four different activities, none of them longer than 45 minutes, and a nice mix of muscle use.  Perfect for the first week of May!

And then, the weekend, two full days to myself.  On Saturday I headed to Tiger Mountain for the first time this year, and found a green explosion of springness and beauty.  I headed up the main trail, then veered off onto the Nook trail to make a nice hour-plus loop.  I wanted to run and run forever and lose myself in the forest, but I knew that would be foolish; there is a lot of summer still to come for longer and longer trail runs.

Today I had plans to meet Glenn and Anna Louise at the Centennial Trail for a bike ride, so I went early and squeezed in a roller ski strength workout first.  The beginning of the trail is a long gentle downhill, or, depending on your perspective, of course, a long gentle uphill.  I had time for three four-minute uphill double poling pieces, pleased that my theory of not letting my winter-earned strength disappear over the summer seems to be holding true.  By the time I got back to my car, Glenn and AL had arrived, and we headed out on the trail.  It was super crowded, but why not?  Everyone else in the whole world wanted to be out in the sunshine as much as I did!

After our ride, we sat out on the patio at their favorite new pub and drank beers and ate salads, then spent an hour wandering through a gorgeous lush nursery, Al picking out more plants for their yard and I just drinking in the flowers.

What a fabulous week to welcome May and the new training year!

Early Start

Hello, ship canal trail, my old friend.  It's been a while.

I really like to roller ski, but usually I don't start until later in the summer.  This year, I'm trying an experiment.  Since I'm not a big fan of going to the gym, double poling and single sticking are pretty much my only strength workout, and when I don't start roller skiing until August, I've lost the strength I built up over the ski season and have to start from scratch.

Hence, my experiment: to start roller skiing now, hopefully preserving any muscle power left over from the winter and building on it for next winter.  So I headed to the ship canal trail on a blustery gray morning, with no company but a solitary jogger and a friendly couple bundled up in warm jackets.  Usually my first roller ski of the season is painful and heavy, and I'm convinced there is something wrong with my wheels because it's so hard to get them turning.  But I think my hypothesis is correct, because I double poled for 45 minutes on Saturday and it was easier this year!  Hooray - there are still a few muscles in my back and shoulders!

Now the challenge will be to find a way to keep this interesting and fun from now until November.

Mt Washington Loppet

If you're like me, you're sad to see the ski season winding down for another year.  So, if you're like me, you're going to put the Mt Washington 30k on your to-do list for next year.  Great skiing in mid-April, just a ways up the road on Vancouver Island.  Kent, in the 50-59 age group, won this year's race going away in 1:27, beating the second-place finisher, a young 30-39 whippersnapper, by almost three minutes.  Kent doesn't need any age/gender handicapping; he is a rocket who just wins races outright!  Here is his race report:

For anyone who hasn’t done it yet, consider it for next year. It’s a little further away than most but well worth it. They’ve got a great course with lots of transitions and climbing. Always good conditions. It’s put on by a small community ski club that does a great job. Tony often brings his kids, who seem to enjoy the downhill skiing there. Next time I’ll probably bring my dh gear.

Tony was second in the 40-49 age group, and had his own exciting race and fun story to tell.  This photo is from last year's loppet, when he led the pack at the start.  How did he do this year?  Read on!

Photo: Brent Reid

Indeed…great weather and conditions again this year.  Excellent “end of season” race…for sure!  Those who haven’t done this will be “regulars” year after year, once they’ve finally done it the first time.  Debbie, I do think some people ski it Classic, too….! The ski area remains open through the weekend, and this weekend was the final weekend of grooming before the “Snow to Surf” race in two weeks (the “Snow to Surf” is Mt. Washington’s version of the Ski to Sea).  The XC skiing all weekend was almost like mid-winter conditions – incredible for mid-April.  Everyone was talking about it, and the parking lot at the XC area was jammed every day.  And that lot is HUGE.  

The race was drama-free with the exception of a nasty fall around a relatively slick turn that left me with a bloody nose…but I figure I deserved that (my brothers would definitely agree)…. I didn’t give the corner, or the fast conditions, the respect they deserved at that point on the course.  That cost some critical time and I lost contact with the group I was with, but it was fun trying to catch up again. Just a fabulous weekend all around.

Thanks for the reports, guys -- I'm definitely heading up there next year, just to stretch out the ski season a little longer.

But, in fact, there is still skiing to be had here.  Ozzie got out the snowmobile yesterday and groomed the course at Cabin Creek!

Photo: Frank Harris

A Cautionary Tale

The ski season is almost winding down (except for a couple fun-sounding races in Canada in the next couple of weeks), and it's a good time to look back on the season and reflect on what went well, and what you might do differently next time.  Mighty Inge, for example, might choose to skip a race when she is sick, after the experience she had last month.  Here is her story (and a picture from a healthier day); thanks for sharing with us, Inge!  (and more here:  http://ingescheve.wordpress.com)

Why You Shouldn’t Race When You’re Sick 

Aside from the obvious health implications, such as getting sicker from trying to push yourself when your body is battling fever, chest congestion and coughing, racing when you are sick can take a long time to recover from. 

What am I talking about? Bruised egos are very slow to heal. 

Point in case: After a good race week at World Masters in Asiago, I got back with the standard souvenir: a nasty cold. Unlike many on the US team, I escaped catching it before the racing was over. However, traveling back with a cold through airline disaster that involved being stuck at the Venice airport for 12 hours and then booked into an airport hotel for a new attempt to fly out the next day was not a great prep for racing the following weekend. 

Still, although I had a fever and chest congestion, I signed up for the local 30K classic race thinking I could at least “tour it:” move my sorry self on skis from A to B. The maneuver was mostly a gesture to the local race organizers. The last five years I’ve been unable to participate because the event generally conflicts with World Masters. So finally, I’m in town and figured if I didn’t show up, I would be kicked out of the village. 

Once I get to the race office, I get talked into entering the race rather than the tour. Racers go at 11am, as a mass start. Tourers can mosey along at their leisure, but need to be gone from the start area by 10:30. 

I go to the start line, and figure I will go to the back of the field, given that I don’t plan to “race” it. But when the gun goes off, my brain goes into race mode, and now I also had to climb over a pretty big group of people that I generally ski circles around. That, by the way, takes a lot of energy. 

Then I started the race, although I never managed to get very far ahead in the field. 12K uphill from the start, usually a good setup for me. After about 8K I felt drained. Coughing and congested, my body felt cold despite climbing uphill as fast as I could handle. After the first aid station, the course flattens and the head wind picks up, gusting at gale force. I’m stiff as a board, cold to the bone, clumsy and uncoordinated, and my body feels depleted of energy and stamina. I was caught by all kinds of racers left and right, and there was nothing I could do about it. 

Toward the end of the race, when the course dives down to the finish for the last 7-8K, the humiliation was complete: Even fat guys who never exercise except for this event, young children and people in warmups passed me and finished ahead of me. I was a back-of-the-packer. The cold has cleared up and the fever has since left, but my ego has not recovered. Will I ever ski fast again? Do I have any business wearing a bib? Am I a disgrace to the family name and the village?