2011

To do a little plagiarizing, it was the best of times, it was the worst of times (skating wise, that is.  In general, my life is great and I really have very little to complain about.  I only wish for better health for my parents.  Other than that...life is great).

But back to skating--this is, after all, The Long Track Life.  And skating in 2011 went from horribly discouraging--in the spring and summer, when my thyroid levels dipped again and it took a bit of work to get the meds adjusted properly--to fantastic, in the fall when I went to Milwaukee to skate and discovered that some technique improvements had resulted in significantly faster times.  2011 was truly a year of dreams coming true--when I started this blog I had several posts, including this one, in which I lamented my unorthodox skating style.  It wasn't that I didn't want to skate more conventionally, and it wasn't that Coach TieGuy hadn't moved heaven and earth to try to teach me to skate more conventionally; it's just that we had come to the realization that the more conventionally I skated, the more slowly I skated.  So I did my Bunny on Crack "crazy tempo" skating, and was pretty fast (for my age), if I do say so myself.  But still, I was beginning to realize that, to get faster with my current technique, I'd need to get in even better shape--and I'm already frequently riding the ragged edge of overtraining/injury.  So I dreamed of someday, somehow, making that technical leap that would allow me to skate "properly," getting more power to the ice and going faster with less effort.

I dreamed of it, but honestly had pretty much given up hope of it happening.

I still truly don't know what led to the change in my skating.   This summer I started trying stuff that I'd tried before; only, when I'd tried it before, I'd gotten slower.  This time I got faster.

Whatever the reason, I'll take it!

Not that there isn't still some work left for 2012.  This video, of a 500 meter and 1500 meter time trial from this morning, amply demonstrates that.  A strong wind caused a bit of regression in my technique, and I seem to have developed a funky new armswing that looks like a cross between swimming and imitating windshield wipers.  My starts, particularly the 1500, are truly horrific.  And I see that the Chicken Wing is back.  So yeah, 2012 will be busy on the ice!

2011...yeah, it was a good year.  And 2012 will start off with my big meet of the year, the Masters Single Distance in Milwaukee, next weekend.

I can't wait.

Happy New Year!

H-E-Double-Hockey-Sticks

I have nothing against hockey players.  In fact, I married one (sort of--The Hubster grew up playing hockey in Canada, but has since switched to broomball).

Two of them, however, made my workout very interesting last night.

On paper, it should have been a great workout.  Just two tempos--500 and 1500 meters.  Perfect weather--35 degrees and calm (where is our Minnesota winter!?). And, best of all, Coach TieGuy was in town.

Unfortunately it became quite clear, as I got into the workout, that I was not living up to these auspicious portents.  Warmup was OK; Coach TieGuy was able to point out a couple of things that I had become sloppy with in the past few months, but in general was pleased with my NIT (New Improved Technique).  The 500 tempo was lackluster, though; partly, no doubt, because I hate 500 tempos.  The 500 meter start line is right after a corner, so when you need to stand on the line to do a start you need to make darn sure that no skaters are coming down the backstretch--if they come around the corner to find you standing there, really bad stuff will happen.  (Take note of that--that right there is what we in the literary world call "foreshadowing.")  So to minimize the possibility of disaster I basically skated to the start line, paused briefly to assume the "ready" position, and then took off.  Clumsily.

So the 500 was "meh."  Still, it was nice to have Coach TieGuy back on the other end of the FRS radio, even though--due to my less-than-thorough inspection of the remaining battery life in our radios--his comments sounded something like "....ccccckkkkk....entry...ccck...good exit...cccckkkk...knees...."  After the 500, he told me that I was forgetting to do the extra crossover when coming out of a corner, which, upon reflection, I decided was probably due to forgetting to "drift out" when exiting the corner.  So I resolved to do better in the 1500.

The 1500 shares the starting-line-after-a-corner problem with the 500, but it seemed that a few skaters had gone in for their mid-workout warmup so the track was less crowded.  So my start was better, and as I approached the first corner I focused on attacking the corner, drifting out slightly on the exit, and getting that extra crossover to help carry my cornering speed into the straightaway.

I exited the corner, extra crossover, good, look down the track...

...and see an 8-year-old hockey player, stick and all, skating slowly across the ice from her practice in the oval infield to the exit on the outside of the track.

Given the fact that she was skating to the outside, and I was drifting to the outside, we were both heading for the same patch of oval real estate.  Collision was imminent.

I stood up out of my skating stance, swerved (as much as I could) to my right to pass her on the outside--there was no way I could swerve back to the inside, behind her, at that speed--and yelled "YOU HAVE TO LOOK!!! GEEZ!!!"  Except that there was an "us" on the end of my "geez."  Hope I didn't offend anyone.

And then I got back down into skating position and resumed my tempo.  About five seconds later, a rink attendant came on the loudspeaker to remind hockey players that they must not cross the track unattended, and that coaches must not let their players cross without adult supervision.

The rest of the tempo was not pretty; by the last lap, I was really struggling.  When I finished, I coasted over to TieGuy for the lap times.

"Opener was...let me see...34.  Then a 39.5, then a 41.8"

"And?"  I said.  "What was the last lap?"  A 1500 is the opener plus 3 laps.

Coach TieGuy gave me a strange look.

"That's all," he said.

Turns out I had been so flustered by the near-collision that I lost my ability to count to 3, and quit a lap early.

Oh, well...given how I felt, the last lap would have been spectacularly bad, anyway.

So, after my cooldown, we headed back to the locker room.  (The skating center building has a large warming-house room as well as several locker rooms for the hockey arena, and the oval staff are nice enough to let the speedskaters use a locker room whenever there isn't a varsity hockey game going on.)  As TieGuy and I discussed my skating while I took off my skates, the door opened and a 20-something hockey player, complete with goalie gear, stuck his head in the room and asked if he could share our locker room.  Seems there was an alumni hockey game coming up and all the other rooms were taken.

"Sure," I said, "as long as you don't smell too bad."  Sometimes our locker room reeks of unwashed hockey gear.

"Um...I don't think so..." he said, as he came into the room.

Somehow, though, within 5 minutes one fairly-unstinky-goalie had morphed into 10 large hockey players stuffing themselves into gear that had obviously never been introduced to Febreeze.

10 large hockey players, moreover, who had obviously never been introduced to the concept of "there's a woman in the locker room."

Yes, I looked up from stuffing my skates into my bag just in time to be mooned by one of the players.

In future, I'd appreciate it if all hockey players at the oval--whether little girls or young men--would keep their asses out of my way.

A Cabin Christmas--Day 2

Day 2 of our cabin Christmas.  My sister Energizer Bunny and her husband Sherpa Boy (and their two cats) arrived last night, and things have settled into a nice routine: Stoke the wood stove.  Eat.  Read.  Eat.  Stoke the wood stove (when heating with wood, it's advantageous to be staying with a couple of middle-aged women who have to get up multiple times during the night to go to the bathroom--no need for the menfolk to bestir themselves to stoke the fire in the middle of the night!).  Eat.  Talk. Eat. Wash dishes from eating.  Eat.  Cook.  Eat.

We broke the routine a couple of times to check out the wave action:

And to go for a walk, down the beach, up the Superior Hiking Trail, and back down the highway to the cabin:

The four-mile walk served the dual purpose of burning off the breakfast French Toast casserole...

That's a lot of food for 4 medium-sized people! 

And not to worry; that's a Caffeine Free Diet Dew I've got there.

Yes, for breakfast.  Be quiet.

...as well as making room for lunch--which in my case was leftover Little Smokies from breakfast and leftover apple crisp from last night's dessert.

So clearly, it's time to head home tomorrow--and not only because a couple more days of eating like this would probably necessitate a skinsuit upsize.  In addition to that, the Death Valley bed we're sleeping on is starting to affect my back, and the cats are starting to affect my asthma--particularly this black-and-white fellow, affectionately known as "DanderBomb."

Yes, "DanderBomb" only has three legs. He's a stray that Energizer Bunny and Sherpa Boy rescued when he showed up at their door injured many winters ago.  He was so charmingly friendly and playfully, even when horribly hurt, that the vet agreed to operate on him at a greatly reduced rate.  Unfortunately, "charmingly friendly and playful when horribly hurt" segued into "feisty little rabble-rouser when healthy," and so DanderBomb's real name is Sh*t Head," or "Shi Thead" when he's in polite company.  So "DanderBomb" is actually an upgrade.

Anyway, tomorrow it's the drive home, followed by a workout at the Oval.  It's the first night of two weeks of  tapering to get ready for my big meet.

And I've already got the carbo-loading done, so I'm one step ahead!

A Cabin Christmas--Day 1

The Hubster, the Hound and I are at the family cabin on Lake Superior for Christmas.  My sister Energizer Bunny and her husband Sherpa Boy (and their two cats) will join us this afternoon.  Random thoughts from the trip thus far:

• It's best not to be smug because you have water at your cabin and your cousins, in another cabin, couldn't get theirs working. After assuring them that they could visit us anytime for showers, a flush toilet, and unlimited "fill-the-bucket" trips last night, we awoke to no water this morning.  Or rather, I awoke.  Hubster is still sleeping, but on a brief foray out of the bedroom to the bathroom earlier this morning, he said that there must be a leak in the system or a tap open somewhere, so all he'll need to do is pump up water again to refill the tank. In the meantime, I'm typing this with rather dirty hands.
• On a related note, there are advantages and disadvantages to outhouses in the winter (our summer-only cabin, 20 yards away, has no indoor plumbing so we're all borrowing its outhouse).  The upside?  The outhouse never smells better than it does in the winter, when everything is frozen. The downside?  Updraft.
• Still, cold breezes nothwithstanding, we have a pretty neat outhouse.  Here's the view from the window (don't ask why our outhouse has a window)

• Keira, who sometimes looks a bit goofy in her usual urban setting, looks very dignified in a wild, primitive sort of way when she's romping in the woods up here.  This is what we call her "Noble Staghound" pose 

• Don't argue with the Hubster when he says that the oven, pre-heating for the baking of the traditional Christmas Eve frozen pizza, smells like "burning mouse." Apparently he's smelled many a burning mouse (you know, on exhaust manifolds and snowmobile exhaust pipes and such).
• Remember that Keira, despite her almost complete lack of hunting abilities, is quite capable of tracking down and attempting to eat a dead, frozen eelpout (or, as my family calls them, "lawyer") on the lakeshore.  She will be most un-amused when I drag the disgusting trophy from her mouth and, to prevent her from "hunting it up" again, chuck it down the outhouse.  This will be the closest I come to Christmas Eve Lutefisk this year.
• Smother a laugh when I relay the story of tossing the lawyer in the outhouse to Energizer Bunny and she says "Eww, gross, you shouldn't have done that...now it's gonna stink!"  She does know what's in the outhouse, right?
• And now...the Hubster is up, the water is fixed, the cabin is warm, there's a beautiful view out the window, nostalgic "cabin music" on the iPod, and it's time to make cookies.

Merry Christmas!

Playin' With the Boys

First off, I will apologize to anyone who now has a "Top Gun" volleyball scene flashback/earworm. Those of you who have no idea what I mean are obviously not old enough to be masters skaters.

Anyway, last night's workout was fun.  It was a Hellishly long interval workout--2x (5x3 laps) at 70% effort, with 600 meters rest between the 3-lappers.  Yes, 30 laps--12k--of intervals.  Fortunately only at 70%, though--most interval workouts are 80 or 90%--so it seemed doable.  And the weather was perfect: 25 degrees and no wind.  The "no wind" part is a rare and beautiful thing here on Frozen Tundra Oval.

So I thought it would probably go OK.  The only thing that I thought might be a fly in the ointment was my Experiment.  In my coursework to become a Board Certified Behavior Analyst, I did quite a bit of studying of Single Subject Research Design.  So, drawing on my knowledge of ABAB designs (baseline/treatment/reversal to baseline/reapply treatment), I figured that the last day of school before break might be a good time to reverse my "severe caffeine reduction to gauge effect of caffeine on PVC's" treatment to a nice baseline level.

In other words, I had a 20 ounce Diet Dew before skating.

So I thought that there might be some PVC action tonight.  Since I started the caffeine reduction they've been remarkably infrequent (although not totally absent), but in the interest of being a good researcher I figured I should reverse to that happy, fully-caffeinated baseline state for a bit to be sure that the PVC reduction was not merely a coincidence.

My first set of 3 laps went well. I figured 43-44 second laps would be an appropriate pace, but my first set were 41's and 42's but still felt like 70%.  I approved. Then, as I coasted my all-too-short 600 meter rest, I spotted fellow masters skater Aussie Boy skating vaguely about, apparently without a workout plan.

"Hey Aussie Boy," I yelled, "wanna join me for some laps?"

After ascertaining that by "some laps" I meant "sets of 3 laps" and not "sets of 12 laps"--Aussie Boy is not a fan of endurance skating--he agreed to join me.  And since he knows of my anal-retentive obsessive-compulsive control-freak need to know my un-draft-assisted lap times he agreed (even though he's faster than I am) to skate behind me.

The next 4 sets of 3 laps went great--40-42 second laps.  Well, except for the last lap of the last set.  As I headed into the first turn I felt the familiar "flippy floppy", "hollow" feeling in my chest that signals PVC's, followed by the "I've suddenly become an 80-year-old chronic smoker with COPD" feeling in my legs and lungs.  Consequently the last lap was  a 45, and it's unfortunately clear that I must return to my "severely reduced/hopefully soon completely eliminated caffeine" treatment phase of my experiment. Dang.  I really love my caffeine.

Oh, well. I love skating more.

I went in for my customary "I now skate sockless because my new skates fit best that way" warm-up-the-toes break after my first 5 sets.  Aussie Boy said he'd stay outside skating but would watch for me to come back out so he could do the remaining 5 sets with me.

When I came back outside after a leisurely toe-warming, I was greeted by the sight of Aussie Boy and two other masters skaters, 50's Boy and 60's Boy, anxiously awaiting my return.

Cool.  I got me a posse of skaters!

It probably looked pretty funny--me, in black tights and a bright green jacket, leading my three Johnny-Cash-Black clad disciples through the laps.  All we needed was a nice red caboose.

It was a lot of fun, though.  Lap times remained good, although I got pretty tired; the last set was all 42's. It was fun to skate with people for a change, even though I wasn't drafting off of them (I think there's a slight draft advantage to leading a group of people, though, if I remember right...).  All in all, a great last workout before a holiday break.  Now I can spend the next 4 workout-less days enjoying family and fun, and trying not to eat so many Christmas cookies that my skinsuit won't fit come next Tuesday.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

Awesomeness--with a side of facepalm

Because I'm a geek, I rate every workout on a 1-10 scale.  After I became hypothyroid but before I was diagnosed, there were a lot of twos and even some ones.  A one is a No Good, Very Bad, Horrible Workout.

Tonight's workout was a nine.

On tap for tonight were 5x2k, at a nice comfortable 50% pace.  I figured I'd work on relaxing, getting more out of my straightaway strokes, and trying to figure out my corner entries.  Somewhere in the second set I was cruising along, working moderately hard but not so hard that I couldn't focus on technique, when it happened.

I felt the skate I was gliding on begin to "carve" at the end of each stroke, as I drove my opposite knee forward.

It took me a couple laps to realize what was happening. I had heard skaters speak of this "carving" before, most recently fellow masters skater Sprinter Boy on the drive down to Milwaukee a couple of weeks ago.  I had responded to his discussion of carving the way I had to many a similar discussion about some of the finer technical points of skating--with a verbal "oh, yeah, uh huh" and a mental "which leg?  Huh?  What? When?  I have no conception of this thing of which you speak."

But today I felt the carving.  And it was cool.   It felt like I was skating (finally!) the way I see other people skate.  People who go a lot faster than I do.

So I had to share the joy.  When I clapped my way into the locker room for my "warming of the feet" mid-workout break, the rest of the masters skaters were already assembled there.

"Hey," I said to Sprinter Boy as I plopped down happily on the bench and started untying my skates, "I'm about to give you a glimpse of what Coach TieGuy had to put up with for the past five years when he'd try to explain things to me.  You know that carving thing you were telling me about?  I had no idea what you were talking about...but I think I just had a..."

"Facepalm moment?"  offered Sprinter Boy.

"Uh, I was gonna say epiphany, but yeah..."  And I explained that I had suddenly gone from "Huh?  What?" to "Oh, yeah...that.  I know exactly what you mean."

So it was good.  Really good.  Much awesomeness, in fact. I felt like tonight's workout was as much of an improvement over the first part of the season, technique-wise, as the first part of this season has been over the previous seasons.  So yeah, a nine.

Maybe even a ten.

I'll Take PB's over PVC's Any Day

So here's how today's races went:
No caffeine for 48 hours.
2 races.
PVC's in warmup and at the end of the 1000 meter; none in the 3k.
2 PB's.

I'll take it.

Neither race was great from a technical standpoint.  I blew every corner entry in the 1000, so that plus the PVC's at 800 meters undoubtedly made it a bit slower than it could have been.  Still, my old Personal Best was 1:38; today's race was 1:37.78.  Since the old PB was from January 2008, I was quite happy with today's time. The 3k went better, technically, for the most part--except an "almost fall" at 400 meters.  So I know I could have gone faster in that, too.  Old PB (also from January 2008) was 5:13.24; today was 5:13.18.  Again, happy.

I'm not entirely convinced that the caffeine-free status accounted for the PVC-free status in the 3k (or maybe I just don't want to believe it...I miss my caffeine!  When will this dang headache go away?).  Anyway, I did have some PVC's in warmup and at the end of the 1k, so I wasn't completely free of them.  And I've noticed that, in practice, it seems like I get less of them later in the workout (after I've skated a few hard laps) than at the beginning. We had an unusually short amount of time between the 1k and the 3k today--20 minutes, versus the usual hour or more. Maybe I need to experiment with doing some hard laps relatively shortly before my races (if I can; I have a really hard time skating hard in the warmup lane during races).

Or maybe I just need to suck it up and accept the fact that, at least until my big race January 7 and 8, I'll be caffeine-free.

Caffeine-free and Cranky

This is gonna be a short post because I like to keep this blog profanity-free and, given my current level of crankiness, I'm not sure how long I'll be able to sustain that.

Going caffeine-free sucks.

Notice I didn't say being caffeine free.  That's because, despite trying for over a week, I'm not yet.  Well, I haven't had any caffeine today but I've only been up for two hours, so the day is young.

I tried to go completely caffeine free twice in the past week, when I figured I'd tapered enough to be able to stop  altogether.  Both times I ended up with an emergency application of caffeine before lunchtime.  Both those days were workdays, though, which not only meant that I was less tolerant of feeling lousy, but also that I didn't think it fair to inflict my crankiness on students and co-workers.

Today it's just me and the Hubster and the dog.

I hope they both survive.

On the PVC front, I'm still getting them when skating, even though I'm down to about a half cup of coffee a day (and I drink it more than 12 hours before skating).  I have noticed a big reduction in PVC's when inactive or only doing light activity like walking the dog, though.  Tomorrow I'll race completely caffeine-free (assuming I don't cave today, that is), so we'll see what happens.

Keep your fingers crossed.

Darn...my bad habits are turning on me

It started with the Splenda.

Having been sugarfree for over 10 years, I was a big fan of Splenda.  Until I discovered that it has been implicated in thyroid dysfunction.

So the Splenda had to go.

Of course, life without sweets is unthinkable, so with Splenda off the table (literally as well as figuratively), I reverted back to sugar.  And for a time, it was good.  But then, I started noticing that some stuff was too sweet.


"Too sweet" is a concept that previously did not exist in my vocabulary.  I was always the one who wanted the piece of cake with the most frosting; the third marshmallow in my s'more; the extra scoop of sugar on my Cheerios.  So when I ate (for the first time in 11 years) peanut M&M's...and Reese's pieces...and Kit Kat bars, and found them "too sweet," it was a bit of a surreal experience.

Don't get me wrong; I'd much rather find candy and such things to be too sweet and thus unappealing.  After all, there's a reason I quit eating them 11 years ago--a complete lack of ability to control my intake.  Still, it's a bit disquieting to discover that there is such a thing as "too sweet," and to discover that many former favorites are now falling into this category. Even my beloved PopTarts seem to have now--after a couple of weeks of wild overindulgence--crossed the line into "too sweet" territory...the frosted ones, anyway.  I'm still working my way through a box of unfrosted strawberry...

And now, caffeine seems to have joined the list of Bad Habits of Mine That No Longer Work For Me.  As I mentioned in my last post, I've been having some trouble with PVC's--Premature Ventricular Contractions, a type of heart arrhythmia--when I skate.  I've had them off and on for over 20 years, and sometimes when I skate, but they've never been as clearly exercise-triggered before as they are right now.

And they seem to happen a lot more after I drink caffeine.

I've always known that caffeine can be linked to PVC's, but I've never noticed a connection personally.  They've just had their own random patterns.  But now, it seems that every time I have caffeine (which is at least three times a day), PVC's follow shortly.

Yesterday was the last straw.  I'd gone down to Milwaukee again to do another 3k.  I was pretty confident that I could do a sub-5:00 (which I've only done twice in Milwaukee, once when the "constant tailwind" blowers were on), but I secretly was hoping for a PB.  After all, things have been going really well lately.  Why not?

So I did a 500, and it went well--second fastest time ever in Milwaukee.  Then I had a couple hour wait before my 3k.  Good, I thought, more time for the caffeine from my early-morning coffee to leave my system. (I had cut back on my coffee by about half, but hadn't thought it prudent to abandon it altogether).  But, shortly before my 3k, I started getting PVC's.   And I had them at the starting line.  And I had them throughout the first 600 meters of the race.

I had given a local Minnesota skater, Sprinter Boy, a ride down to Milwaukee.  Since his sprints were done long before my 3k, he was kind enough to offer to give me my splits on the backstretch.  We had discussed my projected times, and I had predicted a 37-second first lap, followed by a 38.  I wanted to hold the 39's at bay for as long as possible, and hopefully never hit 40.  When the PVC's got bad at around 400 meters into the race though, I figured 37 be damned, I have to back off a bit or I won't finish the race. So I eased up for the final 100 yards of the first lap, and figured I'd point meaningfully to my chest as, I struggled past Sprinter Boy on the backstretch, to explain my undoubtedly-sluggish first lap.

When I came out of the corner and saw the lap board, though, it read...6.7.  As in 36.7.

Geez, if I hadn't eased up I probably would have gotten a 35.

Shortly after that the PVC's stopped.  I struggled through the next few laps but felt better as the race went on, and actually felt the strongest in the two final laps.  Which was good, considering that I had a bigger audience for this race than I'm used to--I was the final skater in the meet, I had no pair and thus was the only one on the ice, and was actually skating after the time that the skate school classes were supposed to start.  So I had about 100 anxious little kids and their parents watching me skate and undoubtedly thinking "can't she go any faster?"  So it would have sucked to have had a bad race.

Anyway, the race turned out OK--4:56.91, my second fastest (un-blower-aided) Milwaukee time.  After the first lap, the splits were a 38, one 40, and the rest 39's.  So I was happy, but also a bit frustrated.  It was a very unpleasant race, and the uncertainty of not knowing when I'll get PVC's and how long into the race/practice they'll last is not something I want to have to deal with every time I skate.

So I'm quitting caffeine, at least long enough to see if it makes a difference (if it doesn't, you can bet I'll crack open a cold Diet Dew before you can say Premature Ventricular Contraction).  If the caffeine-ectomy doesn't work, I'll probably see my doctor (no sense seeing him before I quit the caffeine, since I'm pretty sure that's the first thing he'll recommend).  In the meantime I'll nurse my caffeine-withdrawal headache and think happy thoughts about how much fun it will be to skate hard without my heart beating funny...

American Cup, Day 2--You Make My Heart Beat Faster (or at least have PVC's)

Back for Day 2.

I always like to get to races early, because I find that it's in my best interest to get out on the warmup ice as soon as the Zamboni clears the track.  It worked out great yesterday; we had a full hour of warmup ice, and it turned out that the first half hour was populated by me and four other early-riser masters skaters, while the second half hour was occupied by the other 65 skaters.

Just the way I like it.

Today, though, we only had half an hour of warmup time, so even though I was the first one on the ice I was quickly joined by more skaters than I'd like.  Since my first race, the 1000 meter, wasn't for two hours after warmup was done, I figured it wouldn't matter the crowded ice made me a bit perfunctory in my warmup.

The day started with the Star Spangled Banner (although the Zamboni driver didn't stand at attention):

We did Oh Canada for the Canadian skaters, too.

Then I had two hours to hang around, watch races, talk to fellow skaters, do physical therapy exercises to keep my back happy, and obsess over the timing of my thyroid meds.  My 3000 meter race, which is simultaneously the one I'm most concerned about doing well in and the one that is most affected by thyroid med timing, was one of the last on the schedule and thus one of the hardest to accurately predict the time of.  I finally settled on a time to take the meds, but I still wasn't sure it would be optimal.  I was afraid that, if the race was later than I guessed it would be, I'd be low on meds by the time I skated.

Finally, at 11:00, it was time for my 1000 meter.  I view the 1000 as only a slight step up from the  500.  It's still short enough to both make me lose rational thought process and thus revert to a frantic scramble, and to require more fast-twitch muscles than I've ever possessed.  Still, the 1000 went well...well, except for the poor start, the slip in the first corner, and the PVC's (a harmless but performance-interfering heart arrhythmia) at 800 meters.  Despite all that my time, 1:40.13, was my fourth fastest outdoor 1k, and 4 seconds faster than I skated the distance in this meet a year ago.

Cool.

Another two hours of wandering around, PT exercises, catching Coach TieGuy--who was kept busy being one of the starters at the event--for a moment or two to discuss my skating, and visualizing my 3k.  Then it was time to skate.

I had asked one of the coaches from the local club if he could give me my lap times in the 3k, since Coach TieGuy was busy waving a gun around, and he was kind enough to oblige.  So I knew that my opener (the first 200 meters) was slower than usual, at 24.6 seconds.  I knew that my first lap was a 39.2, pretty much right where I wanted it to be.

And I knew that my second lap was a 42.5.

Yes, a 3.3 second die in the second lap.

Now, to put that in perspective, when I skated a 5k--12.5 laps--in Milwaukee in late October, it took me 7 laps to slow 3.3 seconds.  So doing it in one lap was kind of a shocker.

And then I slowed another 1.1 seconds in the next lap, to a 43.6.

At this point, I was figuring that this would be a "hypo skate," in which I slow by a second or more every lap, until I finally crawl across the finish line.  Damn, I thought, I knew I mistimed my thyroid meds... (when I told the Hubster about my race, and mentioned this concern, he said "Really?  You thought about that while you were racing?  What else did you think about?  What you need to put on the grocery list?  World Peace?"  What can I say...my mind wanders sometimes).

Anyway, lap four was no better, at 43.9.  But lap four had something else...more PVC's. At least those would explain the slow pace.  And their absence, in lap five, would explain why lap five was over a second faster at 42.8, lap six was a nice consistent 42.9, and the final lap, lap seven, was a 43.0.  My total time was 5:22.39--my second fastest outdoor 3k ever.

So, I don't know.  Usually I feel PVC's--they feel like a "thump," or a couple of faster beats followed by a slower one--but I know that it's quite possible to have them and not feel them.  Maybe that's what happened in laps two and three, but I guess I'll never know. All I know is that, at the end of the day, I had a couple of very good race times--and a nice earworm of Matt Nathanson's "You Make My Heart Beat Faster."

Oh, and a T-shirt.

Nothing beats a good race T-shirt...except a good race.  When you have them both, well, you've got yourself a darn good weekend.

American Cup Race Report, Day 1--Take That, 500 meter!

I have a love-hate relationship with the 500 meter.  I love to hate it.  Coach TieGuy (who is a firm believer in the power of the mental side of athletics) used to have me incorporate recitations of "I love the 500" into my mental race preparation, but it didn't do much good.  I stink at the 500, it always makes me feel like a total klutz, and so I hate it.

Today, I hated it a little less.

This weekend is the American Cup I Long Track Speedskating race, the first in the four-race American Cup series.  The other three races are held in Milwaukee, Salt Lake, and, strangely enough, Calgary (this one doubles as the North American Championships, which explains its Canadian locale).  American Cup races are "regular" races, as opposed to Masters-specific events, and are only divided into Junior (under 19) and Senior (19 to death) divisions.  Since I'm possibly closer to death than to 19, I never care much about how I stack up against other (younger) racers in these events; I just want to get good times for me.  Preferably Personal Bests (PB's), although that hasn't happened at an outdoor meet in a long time.

Today I was optimistic, though.  The conditions were good--30 degrees and only a light to moderate wind.  It's always funny to see the "indoor babies" who skate in Milwaukee come up to the Frozen Tundra of Minnesota to race.  You can always tell them from the "natives" during warmup; they're the ones sporting full-on neoprene face masks, neck warmers, and goggles.

Um, guys...it's 32 degrees out... (no, he didn't wear the hat during the races!)

Anyways, super cold ice is slow, as is ice with standing water on it or snow on it, or ice at any temperature during 40-mile-per-hour winds, or...you get the idea.  There are a lot of ways that a Minnesota winter can sabotage your race efforts...but today looked good.

Then, too, there was the optimism of my New Improved Technique (NIT).  I had hopes for NIT helping me get some decent times in the longer races, particularly tomorrow's 3k.  The 500, though, I figured was probably a lost cause.  Over the last couple years I've gone from typically doing 50-second 500's outdoors to typically doing 52's.  I figure my aging legs are losing their fast-twitch muscles.

All three or four of them.

So when I visualized my races this past week during my mental race prep, I didn't bother to worry about trying to figure out what time I was hoping for in the 500.  I just wanted to get it over with, practice my NIT during the race, and move on to the fun stuff.

So last night I finished all my race prep--visualized, sharpened skates, packed skinsuit and recovery drink and camera.  At 11:00, as I was getting ready for bed, the Hubster appeared at the bedroom door in his Carhartts.  11:00, it seems, is a good time to throw the snow tires on the wife's car.

Actually I was fine with that, since the Hubster is a bit of a night owl and often does his auto maintenance after midnight.  I was a little alarmed, though, when his Carhartt-clad self reappeared in the bedroom at 3:00 am to inquire as to my departure time in the morning.  Turns out one of the snow tires had a nail in it and couldn't be mounted until it was fixed.  So the Hubster--who hadn't planned on attending this weekend's races--hauled himself out of bed at the get-the-worm hour of 7 am, in order to drive me to the races so that he could then take the tire to be fixed and then come back and watch me skate.

It all went fine until after he dropped me off.  As I was wandering aimlessly about the almost-deserted warming house (I like to get places early), I suddenly realized that I had left my thyroid medication in the car--and I needed to take it!  So I sprinted back up the stairs, flew out the door, and fortunately saw the Hubster's Avalanche just starting to pull away from the curb.  My pre-race warmup suddenly expanded to include a desperate, arm-waving sprint in pursuit of the Hubster, who was looking determinedly in the other direction as he drove off.  Fortunately I managed to flag him down before he exceeded my top speed, but the frantic sprint pissed off my already-unhappy low back...and a happy low back is critical to an enjoyable--and fast--speedskating experience.  So my optimism wavered a bit there.

Still, warmup went well, and the application of a couple of physical therapy exercises seemed to calm my back down to normal semi-unhappy levels.  By the time the men started skating their 500's, I was feeling pretty good again.

Men's 500 meter...the scoreboard lists the skaters as "Blumel, M" and "Blumel, M"--two brothers were paired together.  I think M Blumel won.

And then it was my turn.  I had a lot of technical things I wanted to get right in the 500, but still didn't really have a time I was shooting for.  Oh, I did tell the Hubster that I'd be happy with a 50...considering that I got a 52 at this race last year, that seemed a bit far-fetched, but a girl can dream, right?  

My list of technical things to focus on during the 500--as written in my trusty notepad before the race--went something like this: right foot a bit further back on start.  Keep hips forward during first 50 meters.  Power strokes, don't scramble.  Left hip in on corner.  Stay low in corner.  Drive knees and focus on full recovery stroke on backstretch.  Big left recovery stroke before entering corner.  Final straight--keep the power, don't scramble.

My actual thought process during the 500 was a bit less helpful, and went something like this: "Go to the start"  Alright, right foot a little bit farther back..."Ready"  Hmm that doesn't feel quite right, oh well too late.  "BANG"  Aaaaaaaaaaaaaa....skate skate skate damn forgot to breathe skate skate corner! corner!  my pair is passing me who's going to switch lanes first she's slowing I'll go past her good into the other lane skate skate skate AAAAAAAAA last inner!  Last inner!  Sharp corner!  Hip in!  Whew, made it.  Skate skate skate skate skate finish line.

Look at scoreboard.

49.67

Cool.  A PB.

(Actually, I couldn't confirm that it was a PB until I got home and looked in my data notebook...I didn't bother to look up my outdoor 500 PB before the race because I figured it was irrelevant.)

So yeah...take that, 500.  I finally lowered my outdoor PB, for the first time since 2008.  So maybe I don't hate the 500, after all.

(Oh, yeah...my second race, the 1500, also went well.  No PB--my old PB was set on a day that had absolutely perfect conditions for outdoor racing, so that one might stand for a while.  But my time was 5 seconds faster than what I typically did in outdoor 1500's for the past two years.  So I'm happy. And now I have to go sharpen my skates, because tomorrow I have the 1000 and the 3k.)

Here's the only picture the Hubster got of me today, taken during my cooldown (I forgot the video camera so he tried to take video with our little still camera, with less than stunning results).

Back tomorrow with Day 2!