After I posted last night I tried again to mold out the bad spot in my skate--this involves heating the offending portion of the skate with a hair dryer or, if you're brave, a heat gun (I, of course, use a hair dryer), and then trying to push out the spot with thumbs or, more effectively, some sort of tool. To mark the spot in the skate, you put lipstick on the part of your foot that hurts, then carefully put your skate on so the lipstick transfers to the inside of the skate. (This is really the only time in my life I use either lipstick or a hairdryer...). Anyway, it's a fussy, time-consuming procedure that I suck at. Coach TieGuy has a special clamp-type tool that works quite well and he's very skilled at the procedure; he heats the skate the right amount, applies sufficient but not too much pressure, and gets the job done. I typically try several times in rather half-assed and ineffectual fashion and then give up, and Saturday night was no different.
So when I got to the oval Sunday morning, I wasn't sure I'd actually be able to tolerate wearing my skates. But I really wanted to--here's the oval Sunday morning (with the aforementioned Screaming Yellow warmup lane), and note that there is only one person getting ready to get on the ice. Unlike Saturday, no Olympians, no what I later discovered was the entire National Sprint team--who are awesomely fun to watch, but a bit intimidating to skate with...
And a very painful left skate.
After a couple of hesitant warmup laps I realized that I was simply not going to be able to skate without some sort of hair-dryer-and-lipstick intervention (anyone who is familiar with my usual lack of fashion and girly-ness will realize that I've left myself wide open for smart comments with that statement). So I headed upstairs to the oval skate shop, where fortunately Renee was working.
Renee is a goddess of skate molding (or, as skaters in Milwaukee apparently says, "Where there's a will, there's Renee"). 10 minutes and $5 later, my skate was comfortable and I was on the ice ready to start my workout. (After I skated and was still riding the endorphin high, I went back to the skate shop to tell Renee that the intervention had been successful and had allowed me to have a fantastic workout. Actually, what I said was "would it be inappropriate to say that I think I love you?" which Renee found quite funny but which I later regretted as it left me with a horrible Partridge Family earworm for most of the drive home...)
I had decided to do a 4x 400/400 rest, 600/400 rest, 600/600 rest, 400/400 rest interval workout. I was going to try to do it at 80%, which (at this point, early in the season) would usually be about 40 to 41 second laps, maybe a 39 in there somewhere if I was lucky. I told myself I was shooting for 41's and 42's, though, since my lap times have not been stellar lately and I didn't want to be disappointed with my performance on the first workout of the season.
So I set out on the first lap, trying to remember all the technical things I was working on in an attempt to see if I was finally ready to graduate from my bunny on crack skating style: bigger, more relaxed recovery, drive the knees, try for more weight shift and more lean in the corners. It felt pretty good, if somewhat relaxed. Then I looked at my watch.
39.3
Nice! And it didn't feel like 80% effort...let's see if I can do another one.
And I did. All of the first four 400's were 39's. I had my heart rate monitor on just for giggles, and I took a look at my max after the first set (I typically don't have heart rate targets for my workouts). Hmm, 194...guess I was actually working hard. (Yes, despite the fact that I'll be 48 next month, my max heart rate is still 200; just a genetic oddity, I'm told).
And the rest of the sets went just as well--a lot of 39's, many 38's, even a 37! My last four 400's were all 40's, but I was OK with that--I was pretty tired by then, and I know my top-end fitness isn't where it should be because of the thyroid issues most of the spring and summer. The technique felt pretty good, too--unfortunately I can't see for myself because, although my friend Melissa taped some laps for me, I had put the camera in the wrong mode and nothing recorded. Maybe just as well...I'm sure I look much better in my head than I did in reality...But I didn't care. It was a fantastic workout, especially for the first ice of the season, and as I drove home I was already making plans for my next Milwaukee weekend.
And this time, I really didn't need any caffeine on the long drive home to Minnesota.
My smile did a great job of keeping me awake.
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