Can I Blame the Cold for My Latest Brain Freeze?

My closest co-workers at school are the lovely ladies who are the paraprofessionals in my classroom.  They are awesome at what they do, and in fact just awesome in general--for proof of their awesomeness, go here. They are also all over 50, and they were delighted when I joined their ranks in October.

"Now," they said smugly, "you'll know what we're dealing with."

Well, I had already experienced the hot flashes, the weight gain, and the irritability that are reputed to come with 50 years of female living, so I wasn't sure what they were referring to.  Apparently, though, there is also a certain untrustworthiness of mental function that comes with the menopausal brain--as I discovered each time I forgot something, screwed something up, or just generally experienced a momentary lapse of cognitive function...and saw my co-workers chuckle with glee.

I'd like to think that it's this "menopause brain" that is responsible for my epic fail in Milwaukee yesterday.

I went down to Milwaukee this weekend for a couple of time trials.  My big meet of the season, the US Masters Single Distance Championships, will be in Milwaukee on Jan. 4 and 5, so it seemed like a good idea to get some racing on the indoor ice before that.

Turns out it was a very good idea.

The drive to Milwaukee Friday after work went surprisingly well. Due to illness, concussions, and general lack of skating, none of my friends were able to join me for the Milwaukee adventure, and a solo six-hour drive immediately after work is always interesting.  This one was actually fun, though, due to junk food, lots of diet pop, and some very loud and off-key singing along with my iPod.   So the weekend was off to a good start.

The "good" didn't continue when I stepped on the ice Saturday morning, though.  Maybe it was because, in my haste to get in a good on-ice warm up, I completely skipped any off-ice prep; whatever the reason, my first laps felt slow, clumsy, and stiff.  I couldn't at all recapture my cornering epiphany from my trip to Milwaukee in August, and in general I felt like my technique had taken a huge step backwards.  Oh, well...I had the 500 to skate before I did the real event of the day, the 3K.  I typically consider the 500 to be the final part of my warmup; true, this time I was thinking that it would be nice to achieve the American Cup qualifying time so I could stop worrying about whether I'd be able to skate the final Am Cup of the season, but in general I just wanted a decent 500, to set me up for the 3K.

I didn't get one.

My start was slow and clumsy; I got back on my heels and had a hard time getting going.  The first corner was OK, and then I crossed over to the outer lane on the backstretch and began counting my strokes to help set up the upcoming corner.  The final corner of the 500 is where you reach pretty much your fastest speed on skates, and therefore, of course, it freaks me out.  I had the last outer, though, which means I would do this corner in the outer lane and thus have a slightly less-tight corner to navigate.  So I counted along, 1,2, 3, waiting for stroke 10 (or 12--my straightaway stroke count is still somewhat variable) so I could initiate my cross overs.

Stroke 12 came...and my untrustworthy brain immediately sounded an alarm (seriously--I think I even heard a siren).

"Cornering sequence failed to upload.  Crossovers not commencing.  Initiate emergency coasting procedure immediately or prepare for crash.  Mayday!  Mayday!  Mayday!"

So I coasted into the corner.  And around the corner.  And almost to the exit of the corner--once you start coasting a corner when you're going fast, it becomes remarkably difficult to pick up either foot.  Finally, as I began the corner exit, I managed to get my right foot off the ground and begin crossing over.  But the damage was done; instead of the high 48-to-low-49 second 500 that I might reasonably have expected, I ended up with a 51.3.  Nice.

Now, of course, the real work began.  As bad as the 500 had been, it would be worse if I let the disappointment from the complete failure of skating ability color my upcoming 3K.  It was imperative that I, somehow, find a metaphorical Jaws of Life to remove my head from my butt before I went to the line for the 3K.

I decided to start over; to simply act as though I had just arrived at the rink for the day's races.  500?  What 500?  I don't know what you're talking about--I just got here.

So I did the off-ice pre-race warmup that I had skipped pre-500. I hung out in the Bronze Room and visualized my 3K (including very detailed visualizing of entering corners and beginning crossovers).  Then I got on the ice and did as much of an on-ice warmup as I could while people were racing.

And I tried very hard not to think about my 500.

And it worked.  My 3K, while not the best I've done, was solidly in the normal "December in Milwuakee" range at 5:01 and change.  My technique felt OK; true, I didn't really recapture the cornering epiphany, but the corners felt decent, and at least I crossed over in all of them.  And I had a decent 3K behind me now, to set me up for the January masters meet.

And, for at least one race of the weekend, I had conquered the "menopause brain."