photo by Steve Penland

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Unsucking Myself

CrossFit SISU, where I go twice a week or so to do all the athletic-type things that I'm really bad at, has a slogan:

Unsuck Yourself.

See?



Over the course of the almost six months I've been going to CrossFit SISU, I've been gradually "unsucking" myself.  First there was the "real" pushup, then the handstand against the wall and the "skin the cat", not to mention lifting weights in too many new and strange ways to even keep track of.  The two things I really wanted to do, though, remained elusive: a "real" pullup, and a dub.

Now, let me explain those two.  CrossFit uses the overhand grip for pullups, but then has two different variations: "strict" pullups, which are just the regular "pull yourself up from a hanging position using only your arms," and "kipping pullups," in which you use a swing of your upper body to gain momentum to help get your chin up over the bar.  My goal was a strict pullup, partly because I consider them the "real" pullups, and partly because I suck at kipping.  As for the "dubs," that's short for "double unders," where you're jumping rope and you jump once but pass the rope under your feet twice.  Let's just say I have trouble successfully getting the rope under my feet once, so dubs have seemed pretty far out of reach.

Still, I knew I was getting closer with the pullups.  I've never done a pullup in my life, not even when I was a kid and my strength-to-weight ratio was undoubtedly more favorable.  Add to that my two shoulder injuries in the last five years--one for each shoulder--and I was pretty much starting from zero.  In six months I'd gone from moving myself upward a half inch, to moving myself upward maybe 5-6 inches (I use a big rubber band to support part of my weight during pullups in actual workouts, so I can do the whole pullup and not just hang there).  As incentive, I decided I'd get myself one of the "unsuck yourself" T-shirts when I did my first pullup.

I made no such promises to myself for when I achieved a dub, because I had no expectation of that ever happening.  Every time we practiced dubs I ended up doing no more than repeatedly whipping myself in the butt with my rope every time I failed (and I still can't figure out how you can whip yourself in the butt when you trip over the rope and it never gets behind you).  Fortunately I was (eventually) smart enough to get myself my own rope, a slightly thicker and softer version than the wire-like speedropes that the CrossFit place has, but still fairly painful nonetheless.  Still, I wanted to master the "dub," for one very good reason: when a CrossFit workout contains movements that some people may not be able to do, they allow you to "scale" or modify the movements, as when I do pullups with a big rubber band.  Well, the scale for not being able to do dubs is typically to do three times as many singles...and given the fact that I am often capable of executing only one or two jumps before tripping, 90 or 120 or 150 single jumps can take a very long time.

So I wanted to do a pullup, and I wanted to do a dub.

Today, I did both of them.

I've been doing a trial pullup pretty much every time I go to CrossFit and the last time I did it I was pretty close so I figured today might be the day.  When I walked in and saw CoachBoy 3 (as distinct from CoachBoys 1 and 2 and  CoachGirl) unloading and folding an entire shipment of new "unsuck yourself" T-shirts I figured it was fate.

So I approached the bar, jumped up and grabbed it, and started pulling myself up.  And I just kept going, closer and closer to the bar until...

"Hey CoachBoy 3," I yelled, wanting someone other than myself to be the one to determine the success or failure of my pullup...but by the time he turned from his shirts I was already in the descent phase of the pullup.

"I think I did it!" I said.  "I mean, my chin was above the bar...right?"

"Here, do it again and I'll tape it," he said, and stuck his phone to the rig with a neat little magnet clamp, right at bar height.

So I did another pullup, and this time the video clearly showed my chin above the bar.

Success--and time for a T-shirt!

So then we started practicing dubs for the WOD (Workout Of the Day), which would consist entirely of wall balls (throwing, in my case, a 10 pound ball nine feet up a wall, starting in a squat position) and dubs.  Basically, we'd do 12 wall balls and then 13 dubs and just keep repeating that until we passed out, puked, hit the 20 minute time limit, or actually completed the prescribed 11 rounds.

Oh, and there would be no scaling if you couldn't do dubs.  No, you just had to do one attempt for each dub, which meant that, if I completed the workout, I was looking at whipping myself in the ass 143 times.

Yay.

So I practiced my dubs, but without much hope.  My strategy was to do one single-under to get my feet moving, and then jump higher and try to spin the rope faster to achieve the dub.  Time after time I tripped over the rope, or whipped myself with it.

Until I didn't.

Suddenly I ended up with the rope in front of me, but I hadn't tripped over it or whipped myself with it, and the rope had passed under me twice ...I think.  It had all happened so fast I really had no idea if I'd done a dub, so I tried another one.  Same result, and same inability to figure out if I'd actually gotten the rope under me twice.  So I grabbed CoachBoy 3 again and asked him to confirm whether the rope was actually passing under me two times.

"Yup," he said, "that's one dub."

Cool!  Two firsts in one day!  It almost made up for the fact that the oval was closed due to the cold and I would miss a skating workout today (but I can't complain too much since the cold also closed school again and I never complain about a day off).

Of course, after "mastering" the dub, I was informed by CoachBoy 3 that I would now have to complete the WOD with dubs rather than attempts--unsuccessful attempts would no longer count.  And since my dubs followed the pattern of "one single, one dub, stop and reset"--unless the pattern was interrupted with a trip, which happened at least 50% of the time--I knew I was looking at the likelihood of DNF'ing the WOD.

I was still so euphoric about my newfound skills that I didn't care.

And, indeed, that's the way it went.  I finished 7 rounds of 12 wall balls and 13 dubs and the wall balls and 6 of the dubs in the eighth round, before I hit the 20 minute cap.  And that was just fine by me.

I'm two steps closer to being "unsucked," and I've got a new T-shirt to boot.

Friday, January 24, 2014

Channeling My Inner Data Geek

Yesterday was our third "it's too cold and we've closed school" day this year--a record in my 25 years of teaching.  Canadian-born-and-mostly-raised Hubster lamented the sad state of wimpy children in the Twenty-First Century, but I enjoyed the unexpected day off.

It gave me a great chance to unleash my inner Data Geek.

OK, maybe it's not so "inner"--I get grief from my skating buddies on a regular basis about my unnatural affair with my stopwatch and my little data notebook.  But yesterday was extreme even for me.

I knew that, since I began CrossFit in early July of this year, I have done more workouts than I did during the same time period last year...the problem is, I didn't know how many more.  This was a state of affairs that I simply could not allow to continue.

So I spent much of the day yesterday staring at this:

That's some of my data notebooks from 2006 to the present (some had already disgorged their information and had been re-stacked in the family room to make space on the table), along with a chart I made, a pen and correction tape, and some of the massive amount of caffeine required to complete the task.  Oh, and my glasses.  After being rather smug about the fact that, at 50, I didn't yet need reading glasses, I suddenly found myself, a month ago, needing to take off my "regular" glasses for reading and closeup work.  "Cheaters" can't be far behind...

Anyway, what I did was simply count the number of workouts each month from January of 2006 through December 2013, and then add up the yearly totals.  I know this is a rough measure of "amount I worked out in a given year" because I didn't add up the actual time of the workouts, but in general they're between one and two hours so the total number of workouts per month and year are still, I would think, fairly relevant.

What I found was interesting.  In 2006, when I had an online coach, I did 179 workouts.  2007 was when I started getting coached by TieGuy, and my workouts jumped to 216--a 20% increase, if I'm doing the math correctly.  2007 was a very successful year for my skating.  2008 and 2009 were both 208 workouts, and then 2010, the year I was diagnosed hypothyroid and Coach TieGuy moved out of state, I dropped to 186. Probably not coincidentally, 2010 was not a very good year for my skating.  2011 Dropped lower, to 179 hours (although I did have a pretty successful season), and then 2012 was the winner for low volume and bad skating at 151 hours (I partly blame a bad summer of adjusting thyroid meds, which led to lots of skipped workouts, which led to a bad winter).  2013 started off on the same foot, with only a modest increase (80 versus 73) in workouts through the end of June.

Then I started CrossFit July 9.

By the end of 2013 I had done 195 workouts, an increase of around 30% for the year but actually 47% over the last 6 months.

That's a BIG increase for an old lady!

I know that CrossFit workouts don't directly target my skating muscles so I don't know how much they will impact skating results...I was more interested in what volume increase I had been able to handle, and how my volume compared to seven years ago.  I'm surprised--and impressed--that I've (knock on wood and cross your fingers) not yet gotten majorly sick or overtrained or sustained an overuse injury, given the pretty drastic increase in my workout volume.  I credit better recovery practices--foam rolling, chiropractic care, good supplements, and more mobility work and consistent warmups than I've done in the past.

Oh, yeah...and luck.

At any rate, I'm happy with the increased work, but I'm also happy that my racing schedule dictates that I start tapering now.  I'm starting to feel a bit sore and tired and beat up, which is definitely a good time to be cutting back on the volume.  When the racing season is done, though, I'm looking forward to being able to increase workout volume even more when (after a nice rest break in March) I start up the 2014 season in mid-April.

Gotta see if I can beat those 2007 numbers in 2014!





Sunday, January 19, 2014

10K Saturday, v. 2.0

Yesterday we did the second annual "10K Saturday."  Last year's version was a blast, and this year's followed suit.

For last year's inaugural 10K practice we only had four skaters: me, Mel, Inliner Boy, and Cross Boy.  This year we managed to recruit almost twice as many: me, Mel, Inliner Boy, Cross Boy, Sprinter Boy, Aussie Boy, and Hawkeye Boy.  I'm not sure how many of them we'll actually convince to race the 10K in Milwaukee in two weeks, but it was fun to have a big group for the training skate.

Fun, and extremely helpful.  As it was last year, the weather this year was cold and windy--except this time we had a full-on headwind instead of a crosswind.  In addition, we had slow ice--it had snowed several inches the night before and the maintenance crew had removed (most of) the snow but hadn't put any water down with the Zamboni.  Having seven skaters meant lots of good draft and a lot of people to share the pulls through the wind and slow ice.

I'm clearly the slow skater of the group.  I'd use "I'm a girl" as my excuse but Mel is a girl and could have pulled all 25 laps and still dropped the rest of us so there goes that excuse.  I'd use "I'm old" but Hawkeye Boy is older than I am and a sprinter to boot, and he still kicks my butt.  Hmm, I guess I am the only one who is both old and female, so I'll go with that to explain why the group decided (correctly) to have me do one, two-lap pull to start of the 25 laps and then draft the rest of the way, while the fast folks split up the lead duties into four-lap pulls.

So I set off on my two.  Naturally I had my stopwatch in hand, ready to record each and every lap time to the tenth.  This drives Hawkeye Boy batty; he's one of those skaters who goes by feel and doesn't believe in timing things.  He's extremely fast so I know it works for him, but me--I need my data.

So I led my two laps, and was happy to see that the times--44.1 and 43.3 seconds--we well within the range I wanted (I had been thinking around 45-46 would be good).  And then, as the others took over one by one and did their pulls, I was happy to see that the laps mostly remained in that range--and I remained in the draft.  Last year Mel had done a 44 and a 43 and I had been unable to keep up; Cross Boy had had to jump in front of me and slow down the pace a bit so I could hang on.  And Mel had actually given me a slight push--twice--to help me close the gap to the skater in front of me.  This time, I even weathered an over-enthusiastic Hawkeye Boy lap of 42.8 without an issue.

It's different skating with other people; you can't just focus on getting your technique and pace perfect every lap because you have to constantly adjust your position to close the gap or back off from the skater in front of you.  So I don't think I was able to execute my new technique quite as well as I do when I'm solo...but I still think it was a huge factor in my being able to hang on to the group for faster laps than we did last year.

Or, hang on until lap 19, anyway. This is when Aussie Boy took the lead and the little bugger threw down a 42.2.  At this point in the skate that was definitely out of my league, and the pack dropped me.  I was on my own for the last six laps.  (And Aussie Boy's back cramped up a lap later and he had to drop out and couldn't finish the 10K).

So my last laps, solo, crept from 47 to 50 and then to 51 seconds...and then I managed to pull the times back down to 49, 48, and a fairly satisfying final lap of 46 seconds.  The total time, 19:06, was almost 30 seconds faster than last year's 19:35.

This is why I love my data.

So after that we did some accels until the ice time ended, and then Sprinter and Hawkeye convinced me to do some turncable work (off-ice turn skating practice) and then to run--2 miles for them, 1.5 for me because my left Achilles started hurting. And I couldn't resist timing a couple of my running laps, just to see what pace I was doing (9.5-10 minute miles).  And also to taunt Hawkeye a bit.

So 10K Saturday was a lot of work, a lot of fun, and a lot encouraging in terms of my upcoming 10K race.  Who could ask for more?

Thursday, January 16, 2014

Just In Case You Need A Visual...

For those of you who might be wondering "just what does her skating look like now?  And just how bad was it before?," I offer the following video.  The "comparison video" from 2011 was actually from after my first major technical improvement, so the contrast is not as dramatic as it could have been had I been willing to use been able to find good comparison video from 2010 or before.  (Oh, and at the end there are some accels with Mel and Sprinter boy and a couple others, just to show how it ought to look).  Enjoy.

Follow this link to YouTube, which I'm using rather than posting the video because we still have that pesky data limit on our home computer.

Anyway, the technique is still feeling great, although I think I've been a bit overenthusiastic about skating the past week and it's time for some rest.  Up next: prep for the 10K in Milwaukee Feb. 1.  Should be interesting to see how many laps I can keep the new technique going for...

Sunday, January 12, 2014

Breakthrough!!!

I wish I could have blogged about my breakthrough sooner after it happened but I've been too tired, and also too busy getting to the oval any chance I get to practice the new technique.  I wish I could have blogged sooner because I haven't been that excited about my skating in living memory and it would have been fun to capture that fresh "oh my gosh" feeling.  On the other hand, a blog post written immediately after the breakthrough likely would have consisted of incoherent excited babbling--and exclamation points.  Lots and lots of exclamation points.  Anyway, on to the breakthrough!

On Wednesday, I had a straightaway technique breakthrough that dwarfs my "cornering epiphany" from earlier in the season.  I've always, even after my technique improved pretty dramatically in the late summer of 2011, felt like my straights were missing something.  I was trying hard, but still never really felt like I was putting much power to the ice; I always felt stiff and awkward and, well, "all force, no grace."  After I improved my corners it was pretty apparent to me that I wasn't skating at the same level in my straightaways as I was in the corners...but I had no idea what was missing.

Then came last week.

After my lackluster races in Milwaukee I took Monday off from working out.  Sprinter Boy (somewhat of a student of the art of speedskating) knew that between my "the Governor closed all the schools in the state because of cold" day off work and my day off from working out, I'd have a bit of time to kill, so he sent me a link to some articles on skating technique.  He particularly recommended this article, so I dutifully read it.  And, of course, didn't understand a word of it.

So when my school was closed again on Tuesday because of the cold, Sprinter Boy and I decided to try the afternoon speedskating session on the oval.  (Yes, a typical Minnesotan response to "it's so cold we've closed most of the schools" is "let's go outside and go skating.")  Since we were both coming off a weekend of racing and I had just finished a CrossFit squat workout three hours before we skated, we decided to do drills rather than a workout.  Specifically, we decided to focus on the technical tip from the article.

The next paragraphs will be a (likely boring and somewhat incomprehensible) description of the technique I was working on.  Feel free to skip them.

In 20011 I had a significant technical improvement in my skating when I learned (thanks to my friend Mel) to do a proper (more or less) recovery stroke.  What that means is, after you push with, say, your right foot, and are gliding on your left foot, you have to get your right foot back into position to be set on the ice.  This getting back into position is called the "recovery."  In the past, my recovery had consisted of bringing my foot more or less back in from the side; what you're supposed to do is swing it around in an arc and have it end up with the thigh vertical and the shin horizontal.  From there, as you begin to push with the foot you are gliding on, you drive your knee forward and set your foot down to become the gliding foot.  Clear?

Now, it's this "knee drive" that turned out to be the breakthrough.  I've heard people say "drive your knees" for years, and I always wondered "where?"  It just didn't make sense to me.  Once I figured out the recovery stroke in 2011, though, I thought I had also figured out the knee drive.  Not so, it turns out.  What Sprinter Boy showed me was that the knee drive continues on from simply driving the knee forward to set the foot down, and actually becomes a "drive the knee up under your chest" before setting the foot down.

Well.  I had never heard about nor noticed that before.

This concludes our technical discussion.  We now resume our regularly scheduled excited babbling.

So we got out on the ice and I tried the "drive the knees up under the chest."  It felt pretty good; at the very least, it felt like I understood the concept and could successfully execute it, both of which are rare for me when I get a new technical skill to try.  But I was sore from the squats and it was cold (about 0 degrees at that point), and we were just doing slow 100 meter drills of the technique.  I left the practice feeling moderately optimistic about my ability to execute the technique in actual skating, and feeling hopeful that it would have a beneficial effect on my skating.

Then came Wednesday night.

Wednesday night was cold...like -7 degrees.  Still, I didn't want to miss my endurance workout (we have a 10K planned for Feb. 1 so I need to get the laps in), and I was anxious to try the new technique in some nice relaxed laps.

I started with a slow warmup, focusing on the "knees under the chest" technique.  It was feeling pretty good, so I started my first of 4 sets of 5 laps.

HOLY MOTHER OF SPEEDSKATING, BATMAN!!

Suddenly I felt like, for the first time ever, I was skating a straightaway like a "real" speedskater.  I felt like, by executing that one aspect of technique, several other "problem areas" suddenly fell into place with no effort.

I was lower, both the shoulders and the butt.

My hips were tucked under.

I had more "carve" to my glide, which helps build pressure into the ice.

And, best of all...I had power in my push that came from pressure into the ice and weight transfer, not from pushing hard.

Well.  I was elated.  (And cold and covered with frozen snot, but who cares?).  I don't think I've grinned that much while skating since...well, actually, ever.  Suddenly I felt like "hey, I can SKATE!"

And as I continued skating, I continued feeling great.  I also discovered that skating the straightaways correctly leads to an easier time entering the corners correctly, which was another nice bonus.

Then Hawkeye Boy (an excellent technical skater) came by and asked if I wanted to join him for a few laps, and I had an idea.  I wanted him to skate behind me, but without knowing that I thought I'd improved my technique.  I wanted to see if he noticed anything.

So after I followed Hawkeye Boy around for 5 laps (and I was delighted to see that my technique breakthrough allowed me to now match his stride, which I had struggled mightily to do before), I casually said "hey, how about if I lead a couple now?"

Hawkeye said sure, so off we went.  I tried very hard to execute the knee drive, and when I pulled up after two laps I held my breath (figuratively, of course...after two laps I need oxygen!) and waited.

"Wow," said Hawkeye, "I've never seen you skate that well.  You've really improved."

I exhaled.  Awesome--it wasn't all in my head!

"So you noticed?"  I asked.  "Sprinter Boy showed me some stuff about the knee drive and I think it's made a big difference."

"Oh, yeah,"  he said.  "You look very different, and it's not a subtle change.  It's dramatic."

He then went on to tell me that I need to execute a similar drive with my right knee when cornering--a comment which I dimly heard through my happy daze of "I think I can maybe, actually, skate properly now!"

I owe Sprinter Boy huge for giving me that tip and for being able to explain it to me in a way that I understood.  I have some great skating friends who have been extremely helpful to me...between Sprinter, Mel, and Hawkeye's advice I think my skating has improved 100% in the past couple years.

So it was a great night.  I ended up frostbiting both feet under my heels, where the bolt head that hold the blade on is (Hawkeye frostbit his ankles), but so what?

I consider a little frostbite a very small price to pay for finally learning how to skate.

Monday, January 6, 2014

Well. That Made "Blah" Look Like "Whee."

So Saturday's races were "blah."  I chalked it up to "one of those things" and decided that Sunday would be better.  It was bound to be, right?  Better nights' sleep, one day of racing under my belt, and my favorite distance--the 5K--on tap.  What could go wrong?

As is turned out...everything.

Just as the weekend started well with Friday's pre-race skate and then took a nosedive Saturday, so Sunday started out well and then soon jumped into the toilet (which may be a perfect analogy, and a little foreshadowing there for you literary types).

Anyway, Sunday started out good. Good sleep, good strong coffee, good warmup laps to...good?...music (Sunday morning featured the "House of Hair.")  True, I did have to abort my pre-race warmup for a quick run to the bathroom, but, you know, pre-race nerves and all that.

Which didn't explain why I'd had to do the same thing on the trip down on Friday, but oh well.  And so what if I'd felt mildly queasy off and on throughout the weekend?  It hadn't affected my ability to put away all that pizza and ice cream Saturday, had it?

So I approached my first race, the 1000 meter, with at least marginal enthusiasm.  On days when I do the 1000 and the 5000, I pretty much consider the 1000 to be merely the final stage of my warmup.  So I wasn't too stressed about it as I toed the line.  I was a little more stressed when I felt the "nothing there" feeling when I tried to skate the opener hard...and more stressed when I heard the first full lap at 36-something...and even more stressed when I heard the final time of 1:37.09.

Well.  That was quite a bit slower than I'd hoped to skate.  Slower than any Milwaukee 1000's since October of 2011.  Almost as slow as a couple Roseville times.

Not good.

So I prepared for the 5K.  Tried not to think about the four slow races I'd skated thus far.  Replenished the now-depleted caffeine stores (coffee only lasts so long) with some "go fast juice."  Skated some warmup laps.

Oh, and I prepped my new toy.  Sprinter Boy had told me that Viking (skate and skate equipment manufacturer) has an app that turns your iPad into a lap board.  Since I had the iPad along, I decided to download the app and give it a try.
(Yes, that's an iPad displaying a lap time.  No, I don't know why it's upside down...but it does show that when the coach holds it so the athlete sees the large numbers right-side-up, the coach also sees the smaller numbers that he selects from right-side up.  Pretty cool.)

And then I went out to skate the 5000.  And I knew, from lap one (all 39.18 seconds of it) that a sub-8:38 was not happening.  A good race was not happening.  Maybe a MAT I time was not even happening.

But I skated.  Sprinter Boy diligently gave me my lap times with the iPad and yelled encouraging thoughts ("don't forget to breathe!").  I focused on recovery strokes and corner entries and not letting my lap times--by lap five, hovering in the unheard-of territory of the mid-43 seconds--creep into the 44's.  For perspective, in my first and only 10K last year it took until lap 12 before my lap times left the 43's.  Today, in the 5K, I kept them in the 43's--but just barely.  Lap five featured a 43.93, but fortunately that was my slowest one.  Six of my final seven laps had negative splits; I'm not sure what that means, but I sure was happy to hear them.

I was not, however, happy to hear my final time of 8:57.15.  It was my slowest 5K since my very first one back in November of 2007 and that one, at 9:04, had featured back cramps that had me standing up multiple times.  Epic fail.  Oh, I did make the MAT I time, but just barely.

It sucks to suck, but it sucks more to not know why you suck.  I'm a very logical person and I need reasons.  If I know my thyroid was undermedicated or I had PVC's or I was overtrained or undertrained or whatever, then I'm more OK with sucking...because I know what I have to change (even if, as with the PVC's, I have no control over it and can only hope that it changes on its own.)  This time...I got nothing.  Thyroid seems fine, I didn't feel any PVC's, and my training seemed pretty spot-on.

Or, well, I got almost nothing.  There's still that mild-and-transient stomach/intestinal thing.  I'm still not feeling 100% today, Monday (thanks again, Governor Dayton, for the day off!).  So maybe I was a little sick.  But if I was, it was a very little.  I don't see how it could have had that much effect on my skating; I skated three personal bests, including an 8:16 5K, in December of 2007 in Salt Lake with bronchitis that had me on two different antibiotics in the two weeks prior to the meet.  So what's a little queasiness?

But what's done is done, and it's time to look forward.  When we finally get out of the deep freeze there will be skating workouts; there will be CrossFit and dryland and watching Olympic Trials on the DVR to see how "real skaters" do it.  We've set up another 10K time trial in Milwaukee this year, for Feb. 1, so there will be training and planning for that.

Plenty of time to leave "Blah" behind and get (relatively) fast again.

Saturday, January 4, 2014

Blah

Today's races were, well, blah.  Which was a shame, because things went so well last night that I was sure I'd race well today.

Thanks to two full weeks of Christmas vacation (for the first time in, oh, ever), I didn't have to work Friday and thus was happily driving towards Milwaukee by noon.  My happy got even happier when the DJ on the radio announced that the governor of Minnesota had just closed all public schools for Monday due to the extreme cold forecasted.  Sweet...I get Monday off to recover from the races!

When I got to the oval for my day-before-the-races workout, I decided to mix up some of the caffeine-enriched "go fast juice" that my sister Energizer Bunny (who manages a nutrition store and is intimately familiar with all the energy products) had sold me the day before.  Gotta try these things out in a workout before you use them in a race, right?  And within ten minutes, the combination of smooth indoor ice, a couple fast laps with Sprinter Boy and Hawkeye Boy, and some good music on the oval sound system had me zipping along in a caffeine-enhanced haze of enthusiasm and positive thinking.  PB's in the upcoming races seemed like a definite possibility.

Unfortunately, the caffeine lingered long after the skating was done, and Friday night ended with me still wide awake at midnight, searching for something moderately entertaining on the hotel TV and calculating the hours until I needed to get up.

Saturday, as I expected after my short night, dawned early and sleepy.  The weak hotel coffee didn't perk me up, nor did my traditional pre-race McDonald's breakfast, my warm up laps, or my attempt at visualizing my race.  I stepped to the line for my first 500 meter race feeling decidedly...blah.

Oh, and fat, too. After skating my warmup in my MAT I suit, I decided that it was too tight ( being able to breathe while skating is a nice option) and I switched to my looser suit.  On the plus side, I was able to lend my MAT I suit to Mel ( who qualified for MAT I in a year they didn't give us skinsuits) and she skated to two PB's in it, so at least there's that.

Anyway, not surprisingly, the race WAS blah.  Slow, slipping opener; hacky, rough first corner; lackluster straightaway; panicky shuffle-step corner entry.  The corner exit felt OK, as did the final straightaway, but it was too little, too late.  My final time, 48.73, was not horrible and indeed it tied my third fastest Milwaukee 500 time...but it was far from what I wanted.  Oh, well...on to 500 meter race #2.   I had a faint hope that things might improve; sometimes, when a skating day starts off poorly, I feel better once I've gotten off the ice and then back on.  

That did not happen this time. Despite the application of Energizer Bunny's "go fast juice" between the two 500 meter races, my second 500 was worse than my first, featuring a startlingly thoroughly blown entry into the second corner that resulted in a time of 49-something.  Ugh.

That left the 1500.  I rarely do 1500's at Milwaukee, so I was hoping I might have gotten faster since
 my last 1500 there a year ago.  Sadly, my improved cornering skills failed to show up for the 1500
just as they had in the 500's, and my time ended up a fairly-forgettable 2:27.02.  Not a PB, and not
MAT I time.  Damn.  It was, however, my third fastest Milwaukee 1500, so I guess that's something.

So now I'm back in the motel room, after some excellent pizza and ice cream with Sprinter Boy and Mrs.  Sprinter.  I've sharpened and foam rolled and prepped the pre-race "go fast juice" and the post-race protein shake.  Time to get a good night's sleep and prepare to conquer the "blah" and have some good races tomorrow.


Thursday, January 2, 2014

Race Goals

Happy 2014!  Although the new year is typically a time for looking back over the past year's successes and failures, I can't yet review the goals I wrote back in March because the skating season isn't done yet.  However, upon looking at those goals I see that most of them need to be re-written anyway, because they're based on my "fast ice" (Calgary or Salt Lake) Personal Bests and I don't plan on going to the fast ice this year.  So, with the US Masters Single Distance Championships coming up this weekend in Milwaukee, now seems like a good time to figure out some new goals.

At the Masters event I will be skating two 500 meter races, a 1000, a 1500, and a 5000.  Here are my thoughts on each distance:

500:  This is historically my worst distance, and one where I can easily surprise myself with either a much better or a much worse time than I expect (as in the last time I went to Milwaukee and had total brain freeze and coasted an entire corner).  The 500 is also, unfortunately, the distance with the most riding on my time: if I can skate a sub-48 second 500 I can then compete in the final American Cup race of the season, in Milwaukee.  No sub-48, no Am Cup.  Since my PB from Milwaukee is 48.2, this presents a fairly large challenge.  Still, my goal for the 500 pretty much has to be that sub-48.  At least I get two shots at it.

1000:  My Milwaukee PB for the 1000 is 1:32.62.  While I'd love a PB in the 1000 (of course), I'd be happy with anything under 1:34.01.  This is the Masters Category I time (108% of the world record in my age group; MAT I is the elite masters designation.)  I've made MAT I every year since it began, but last year I only made it (barely) in the 5K. This year I'd like to make it in all distances above the 500 (the 500 time is 47.43, so that's not happening).

1500:  My Milwuakee PB in the 1500 is 2:24.62, from way back in 2008.  I consider this a fairly "soft" PB; I don't skate many 1500's in Milwaukee because usually when I go there for time trials I do a 500 and a long race (3 or 5K).  My "fast ice" 1500 PB is 2:17.57; typically I'd expect it to be one second per lap, or 3-4 seconds, faster than Milwaukee, so the seven second gap between fast ice and Milwaukee PB's should mean that there's some room for improvement there.  MAT I for the 1500 is 2:25, so a PB would also mean I achieved MAT I at that distance.

5000:  This is my big event, the one I like the most and the one I typically do the best at.  Last year's 5000 was quite forgettable, at 8:48.63.  Usually my 5K's at Milwaukee are in the 8:30-8:38 range; my PB there is 8:26.87, from back in 2008 when the "constant tailwind" fans were turned on.  My "non-fan-aided" PB is 8:30.43.  Now, the interesting thing is that the current Masters World Record in the 50-54 age group is 8:38.57, which is certainly within range for me.  However...my competitor in the 50 age group, Jackie Munzel, is a phenomenal skater.  She just finished competing in the Olympic Trials in Salt Lake City in all five distances, and skated a 7:36 5K there.  Clearly she is way out of my league and will break the masters record convincingly in the 5K (and likely all the other distances as well.).  However, if they skate us slowest to fastest and she and I are not in the same quartet, I could conceivably break the record and hold it for the 7-plus minutes it will take her to skate.  That happened to me back in 2011 at the Masters World Allrounds in Calgary; I broke the 3K record and held it for all of five minutes until the next quartet finished.   It was a fun five minutes.  So I'd love to break the record, for however short of a time. MAT I in the 5K is 9:00.05, so unless I DNF that shouldn't be a problem.

So there you have it.  Pretty aggressive goals, I guess, but my skating has been going well, the thyroid and PVC's have been behaving themselves, and my corners have improved.

Time to see what I can do as a 50-year-old!