photo by Steve Penland

Sunday, April 28, 2013

Well. I Guess They Learned a Lesson Today.

"They" would be my sister Energizer Bunny, her husband Sherpa Boy, and my husband The Hubster.  We all went to a trail near The Hubster's and my house today to bike (the boys) and skate (the girls).  The lesson they learned was this:

Never drop the slow, fat chick...when she's the only one who knows where you are.

And yes, I'm the slow fat chick.

It was the second skate of the year for me (the first, earlier in April, having involved trudging through snow drifts in my skates) and the first skate/bike of the year for the others.  So we were all at least moderately out of shape...but it soon became apparent that I was the most out of shape (apparently dryland does nothing for my trail skating).   EB and I led through the first section of trail, then we trailed the guys for the second section but they waited for us at a road crossing so we could all check the map.  Then, after confirming the turns to complete the rest of the circle route back to the trucks, we all took off.  The boys went first, and EB, displaying much more energy and enthusiasm than I could muster, immediately went haring off after them.  I trudged sweatily along in the rear, and after no more than 30 seconds I had completely lost sight of the others.

I was "skating naked"--no stop watch, no idea how long the route was, no heart rate monitor--but I was working hard and I'm quite sure I was going slow.  I was also putting some significant wear on the wheels on my right skate because I had to T-stop--which I can only do with my right skate--a lot to slow down when heading down hills that I couldn't quite remember the bottom of.  All of this combined to ensure that I had no hope of catching the others--unless, of course, they decided to do the smart thing and stop at the intersections to make sure they made the correct turn.

Which, clearly, they hadn't.

The route back to the truck required us to make two left turns.  The first was an actual T, so when I got to the turn and there was no one waiting there, I was still pretty sure that the fleet-of-foot folks in front of me would have realized that they needed to turn there.  The next turn, though, was a left off of the trail we were on.  I recognized the turn because I've skated that trail many more times than the others have, but I had a sneaking suspicion that the rest of them might have blown right by it.  Still, there was nothing I could do but keep going, so that's what I did.

And I was not at all surprised when, despite being by far the slowest, I arrived back at the trucks first.  Fortunately The Hubster was only 10 minutes or so behind me, but he related a sad tale of being out of sight of the others when he rode past the turn, coming to another turn and realizing that he'd missed the turn, then turning around and heading back the right way--only to have EB and Sherpa Boy whiz past him, going the wrong way and shouting "I think we missed a turn."  But they had kept on going the wrong way, and now we were sitting on the picnic table by the trucks, sharing a Cliff Bar and wondering whether to send out a search party.

Fortunately it was a nice day, so the 45 minute wait really didn't seem so bad.  And EB and Sherpa, when the finally rolled into sight, were none the worse for wear (although perhaps a bit cranky).

But I bet next time they stop and wait for me.

Sunday, April 21, 2013

I Live in Minnesota...

...so it's time for the obligatory "Minnesota sucks when will spring get here" post.  If you have any Facebook friends who are Minnesotan, you'll know what I mean.  And truthfully, as much as I love winter--this is getting ridiculous.

I mean, it's April 21, and this is what my back yard looked like on Friday morning, two days ago:

This would be breathtakingly lovely in, say, December.  
On the plus side, I had the time to take the pictures because we had a two-hour late start at school.

So how much snow did we actually get?  Well, you know the saying "knee high to a grasshopper?" This was elbow high on a Staghound.
Anyone who owns a dog knows that everything smells better when it's covered in snow.
Except, of course, the dog.

And these guys, on our pond, were clearly regretting their decision to come north so soon.

But the saddest sight post-snowfall is this:

Yes, that's the oval.  

The oval is scheduled to open May 6 for inlining.  The aggressive skate park features are partly put together so once the snow melts they'll probably get the place ready pretty quickly...but right now it looks very January-ish.

Emphasis on the "ish."

Sunday, April 14, 2013

Turns Out I'm Not Just a Data Geek...

...I'm a cutting edge data geek.

Ever since I started skating I've been somewhat obsessive thorough about collecting data on my workouts. I keep track of the usual data, of course--lap times, race results, what distances I did in inline workouts or what exercises I did in dryland workouts.  (I don't keep track of heart rate at every workout, just do the occasional check; the heart rate monitor is kind of a pain to use).  But  I also  keep track of a lot of other stuff, including climate conditions, my weight (lately not a very entertaining thing to keep track of), my subjective opinion of the workout on a 1-10 scale.  These random bits of data have proved helpful; for example, I discovered, during my "I'm becoming hypothyroid but don't know it and my workouts are suffering" phase, that the colder the weather the worse my workout, which was a surprise because I love cold weather but which totally fit with hypothyroidism's "cold intolerance."  Thus I frequently find myself digging out my 2-inch binders with data from Workouts Past and comparing the information to data from Workouts Present.

Hey, baby...wanna check out my 2-inch binders? 
(and this isn't even all of them)

I keep data on a lot of non-skating stuff, too.  I make data sheets for exercises assigned by my chiropractor or physical therapist; I track diet data when trying to lose weight; I'm currently considering making a data sheet to record the effects of my new supplements on mood swings.  I've tracked headaches and medication doses and carb counts and calorie levels.  So yeah, I'm pretty much a data geek.

Now, I've certainly gotten my fair share of good-natured ribbing about my obsession.  And I always figured that I was, indeed, on the far end of the data-collection spectrum.  But it turns out that I'm not alone...and maybe I'm not as close to the end of the spectrum as I'd imagined.

This morning, while perusing the online version of the local paper, I came upon this article about the "quantified self" movement.  Its followers take data on all sorts of physical parameters including diet, blood sugar, exercise level...there was even one fellow who took daily "poop data" (while his poo chart was vindicated by eventually leading to his diagnosis of Crohn's disease, I still think he was perhaps taking the "movement" a bit too far...).  Anyway, reading about these "quantified self" folks has reassured me that I'm not only not that weird, but that I'm actually at the forefront of a new trend.

Of course, I may have to take more data to confirm that...

Saturday, April 13, 2013

My Doctor Called Me Fat

Well, technically speaking he didn't call me fat; it's not like he walked into the exam room and said "so how's it going, Lardass?"  No, it was his office, with their automated "here's what we learned at your latest visit" message to me, that imparted the news.  Turns out that the two tidbits of information that they learned when I popped in to discuss my vertigo were: My blood pressure is good.  My BMI is not.

Now, I know BMI is worthless for athletes.  It's just a height/weight formula that doesn't take muscle mass into account; my old coach TieGuy said that when he gained 50 pounds of muscle during his skating career, his BMI placed him in the obese category while his body fat was actually 5%.  So I know to take BMI with a grain of salt (or, more likely in my case, a half-cup or so of sugar).

Still, pants and the scale don't lie, and I know I can't claim that the 20 pounds I've put on in the last 6 years are all muscle.  And it's not like I haven't noticed the added weight (it's kind of hard not to notice when none of your pants button) or haven't tried to do anything about it.  I have.

I just haven't been successful.

But now it's time to try again.  Especially since I seem to gain weight rather than lose when doing dryland (even when I'm not eating donuts after the workout).  There's something about a max-effort cardio--in my case, skating--that can't be replicated by dryland.  Dryland makes me hungry; skating takes away my appetite (and sometimes threatens to take away my previously-eaten lunch).  Dryland makes my glutes hurt; skating makes my glutes smaller.  Dryland makes me gain weight; skating makes me lose.  Unfortunately, dryland is currently possible; skating is not.  And from the looks of things, skating won't be possible for quite some time (I forgot my camera at today's dryland workout at the oval or I could have included a stunning, if tragic, photo of the oval all covered with chunks of plowed-up snow, disassembled bits of skate park ramps, and huge pools of water.  Sad, really).

So anyway, the diet effort starts again.  I'll spare you the details of my plan, but with any luck the next time I go to see my doctor, his office won't be compelled to send me a message telling me I'm fat.

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

I'm a Bad Influence

Today was our first official, full-length dryland workout--25 minutes of "down time" and two sets of ab exercises.  The Boys (Sprinter and Inliner) had other things to do so it was up to the four of us women to get the job done.  And we did, and it was fun.  Hard work, but fun.

And then we went out to the parking lot and I gave everyone donuts.

Well, almost everyone.  New Girl, who, now that I know her a bit better, shall be Coe Girl, resisted the temptation.  But Mel, RollerDome Girl and I dove into the donuts like a pack of starving hyenas.  And they were particularly good donuts, too--chunky, frosted, old-fashioned ones.  ("Chunky."  "Old Fashioned."  Hmm, it's true--I am what I eat!).

I didn't intend to dispense sugar and trans fats to my workout buddies; it just kind of happened.  I had stopped at the grocery store on the way to the oval in search of more of the new supplement I'm taking--the one that seems to be effecting a nice reduction in the perimenopausal "I want to rip someone's head off" mood swings.  Sadly, the supplement was nowhere to be found...but there were the donuts, all white-frosting-with-chocolate-drizzles-covered, sitting forlornly on the sale table.  "The Hubster likes donuts," I thought, and so six of them found their way into my cart.  And then, well, we were halfway through the workout and I started saying I was hungry and everyone else agreed and Mel needed sustenance after the workout for her bike ride home and, well, one thing led to another...and now I'm officially a bad influence on the others.

I don't mind; it was a good workout--and they were really good donuts.


Saturday, April 6, 2013

Words With Friends?

Nope...give me "Dryland with Friends" any day!

Today was day two of the "workouts that precede the real workouts so I can still walk the day after the first real workout."  And I have to say--it was a blast.

It shouldn't have been, really.  My back is super sore from either the short track or the dryland that I did on Wednesday (so much for the "ease into it so I don't get sore" plan!).  Dryland is never all that fun even without anything being sore, and in addition to the pain, it was a cold, sometimes rainy morning.  But, as I say--it was a blast, because I had people to do it with.

Mel, Sprinter Boy, Inliner Boy, RollerDome Girl, and New Girl (who had never done dryland before) joined me at the oval for the workout, and their presence made the whole workout as fun as dryskating and one-legged squats and ab exercises could possibly be. High points included me realizing, after doing 10 V-ups, that I had just completed more core work than I did during the entire last season; and Inliner responding to my statement that I needed to do a recovery workout tomorrow with an honestly-puzzled "recover from what?"  (While the workout was, although abbreviated, truly a workout for me, I think it was more of a warmup for the young and insanely fit Inliner and Mel.)

Last year dryland barely happened and when it did, it was a chore.  In the years when I had Coach TieGuy at my dryland workouts, critiquing and improving my technique and telling me when to stop and start exercises, dryland was OK; not as fun as skating, but not horrible.  Every year that I've done it alone it's gotten worse, though, to the point of being something I dreaded and, as often as not, avoided.  So I'm really excited that this year I have people to do the workouts with and to have fun with.

So far, the new season is looking really good.

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

And So It Begins (sort of)...

I think the 2013-14 season started today.  It really isn't scheduled to start until Tuesday, when we launch into the first real dryland workout of the new season--but I think I'm declaring today as the official "back in the saddle" day.

When you have two workouts in one day, I think you can safely say you're back at it again.

I went to short track this morning (and by "morning," I mean 5:30 a.m.).  A local rink offers early open skating on Wednesdays, and will give speedskaters their own rink so they don't have to vie for space on the ice with hockey players or figure skaters.  Sprinter Boy has been attending these sessions frequently and since I'm in the middle of spring break and won't work again until next Monday, I figured I'd give it a try.  It's not an official short track practice so there are no pads, but this is pretty much offset by the fact that there are no other skaters, either (well, except Sprinter Boy, but he never gets in my way).

Here's the rink, looking just the way I like my short track ice: completely deserted.
And fortunately, it remained completely deserted for my first 10 minutes of skating, because I apparently forgot how to skate in the four weeks since long track ended.  Oh, I did skate last Friday--in hockey skates, at another one of The Hubster's beginner hockey games.  Here I am, displaying a certain lack of balance, grace, and any skating ability whatsoever--in fact, I'm managing to combine ankle skating with that fetching "I'm about to fall over backwards" look.  I'm in the dark jersey and black pants; that's Mel in the green.  Yes, we got Mel off the speedskates and into hockey skates.
 Once she got the helmet adjusted, she did great.

So anyway, the first few minutes on short tracks were ugly.  By the time Sprinter got there, though, I was at least making it around the rink without continuous horrible scratching noises emanating from my blades as I attempted vainly to find an edge, any edge.  We did some sets of 3 laps on/2 laps off, and they went fairly well.  By "on," of course, I simply mean "skating in some semblance of the correct posture;" the lack of pads on the boards joined forces with my usual wimpiness and I found myself having to coast many corners just to keep my speed down to where I felt comfortable.

This is more a statement about my fear threshold than my speed.

As we neared the end of the session I asked Sprinter to videotape me for a set of 3 laps.  And I was actually somewhat pleased with what I saw.  Sure, I have to coast a lot to keep my speed down, and there are a million things wrong with my technique--but overall it looked a lot better than I expected.  Here, see for yourself...
Sorry for the unfortunate camera angle. Just remember--we do, indeed, make the rockin' world go round.

So short track was fun.  So much fun that, after realizing that I won't be able to do it again until mid-June unless I try it on a school day...I decided to try it on a school day.  Maybe.  When I get closer to the end of the school year.

As for the second workout, well, short track isn't really a workout for me.  I simply can't skate hard enough to get tired--at least, not without risking hurting myself.  And I did crash at the end of the session (or, more accurately, I fell down.  It was pretty non-spectacular).  So I'm not at all tired from the short track, and since the first official dryland--all 25 minutes of "down time" of it--is scheduled for next week, I thought it would be prudent to do a couple very short dryland workouts first, to avoid that lovely "my glutes are on fire and I can barely walk" post-first-dryland experience.  So Sprinter Boy and I, and anyone else we can round up, will do a 5-minute dryland workout later today or tomorrow, and then a 10-minute dryland at the end of the week.  And I'm actually excited about it; I think I have a good plan for the season, and I'm anxious to get going on it and get back in shape.

And so the season begins.