R and R

I just got home from a couple days of R and R with the family (well, most of the family--end-of-year is a busy time for the Hubster's business, so he couldn't go) at my parents' place.  There was a lot of looking at this...

Looks like the ghost of the Edmund Fitzgerald, doesn't it?

There was quite a bit of looking at this...

These are just three of my parents' four dogs.

Keira did a lot of this...

Small dogs, small beds...

I did a lot of sitting, and walking, and watching football, and eating.  Lots of eating.

I did have one workout--sister Energizer Bunny and Brother in law Sherpa Boy and I went cross country skiing.  It was a lot of fun, although honesty compels me to say that part of the fun was skiing faster than EB (who routinely beats me in inline marathons.). EB was not happy with this, of course.  At one point, while skiing down a long gradual hill, I succumbed to my usual lack of coordination and crashed.  EB caught up to me while I was still upside down in the snow bank.

Did she stop and inquire, with sisterly solicitude, whether I was all right?

She did not.

Did she pause, in her descent, to see whether I was injured?

She did not.

Did she even yell "are you OK?" as she skiied by? 

She did not.

No, as she passed she yelled, with great satisfaction, "good, now I'm ahead of you!"

And then, with a little kick-and-double-pole maneuver designed to increase her speed, she cruised away down the hill.

I'm happy to say that I caught her again within a mile or so.

Anyway, it was a fun vacation, and a nice rest before I start my taper workouts for the upcoming Masters Single Distance Championships this weekend.

Next up--goals for the masters race.

Merry Christmas, Times Two

I got two of my Christmas presents early this year.

The first one came yesterday: my last-ever skate at the RollerDome.  The dome will be torn down soon to make way for the new football stadium, so I wanted one last inline there for nostalgia's sake.  So last night, despite having done a squat-heavy CrossFit workout in the morning (that is quite different, by the way, from a "heavy squat" workout; I don't think doing squats with the 15-pound bar--no weights--counts as "heavy"), I decided to go to the Dome for my last hurrah.  And then Sprinter Boy emailed me a workout and Mel said she'd be there later in the evening, and suddenly my token "final Dome skate" turned into three hours of fun.

The RollerDome on a rainy spring day last year.

Several people have told me, recently, that I should focus more on technique this year, and I agree; so when Sprinter Boy explained that his "sets of three laps at negative splits" workout was to be completed as low as possible, with the best technique I was capable of, I was on board.  What I didn't realize was that I had just signed myself up for over 10 kilometers of super-low skating.  On legs that had just finished a squat workout four hours earlier.

Surprisingly, it was a blast. See? (no we were not skating "super-low" at this point).

I asked Sprinter Boy to take a picture because I'd forgotten my camera.  Shh, don't tell the Skate Police that he's using his cell phone while skating...

After four fun sets, Sprinter Boy asked a seemingly random question: "How many Christmas cookies do you plan to eat?"

I was pretty sure I knew where he was going with this as I answered "well, if you add how many I plan to eat to how many I've already eaten, I'd say it's somewhere in the range of a Metric Crap-Ton."

My suspicion about the reason for the question was confirmed when he answered "then we better do two more sets."

So we did, for a total of 6 sets, or the equivalent of 27 laps on the oval, as low as possible.  The middle sets of laps were enhanced by the person-in-charge-of-Dome-music switching from "pop" to what can only be described as "metal Christmas carols."  Personally, I thought the half-hour of "carols" made the evening. That, and the guy skating who was wrapped in tinsel like a Christmas tree.

Then Sprinter and Mrs. Sprinter left, and I wandered around for a bit waiting for Mel.  When she and Inliner Boy arrived, I joined them for four laps or so, then wandered off on my own when I realized that I couldn't keep up any more.  At one point, as I cruised along, my current favorite "play it on the iPod right before you get to the oval" song came on (OK, if you must know, it's "Timber" by Pitbull and Ke$ha.  Don't judge me.)  After all those slow laps I just had to do one fast, and it felt awesome, especially the one corner where, for a change, there was no one I had to dodge.  And since I had forgotten my stopwatch and so didn't time the lap, I'm quite convinced that it was blazingly fast.  After the fast lap I cruised along slowly again, remembering all the fun times at the Dome--the inline marathons, the workouts with sister Energizer Bunny, the winter when my thyroid first started tanking and I simply could not complete endurance workouts outdoors and Coach TieGuy and I came to the Dome every Monday night for some epic sets of laps.  Although the Dome was not a major part of my life the way it was for many inliners, I had a lot of fun there and I'll miss it.  So I felt that last night was a good ending.

Then, this morning, I got my second present.  

It looked like this:

Yes, after yesterday's "two a day" I decided to go to CrossFit today.  And I'm so glad I did--it was one of the funnest workouts I've done there.  And it took me 56 minutes to complete, so I had plenty of time to savor the enjoyment. Again, the music was a big part of the fun--nothing like doing Burpees to a backdrop of Heavy Metal "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer."  (We also got to enjoy Springsteen's classic "Santa Claus is Comin' to Town" and Wham!'s "Last Christmas," the latter of which caused simultaneous groans of dismay from pretty much every male in the gym.)  Despite the workout being particularly long and difficult, I enjoyed every minute of it and often found myself grinning like an idiot at my fellow sweat-dripping CrossFitters as we went from exercise to exercise.  One of the best Christmas Eve mornings I've had in a long time!

So after yesterday's skate and today's CrossFit, I really don't need anything else for Christmas.

Oh, I do know one other thing I'll be getting, though.

A nice whole-body case of Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness.

Ass to Grass

My skating learning curve goes something like this:
1.  People tell me about an aspect of technique that I'm lacking
2.  I stare blankly at them because I have no idea what they're talking about and I nod and say "uh huh" because I don't want them to stop giving me technique tips just because I'm clueless
3.  Repeat steps 1 and 2 for up to two years for each technical point
4. Eventually, some of what they are saying filters through my brain
5.  I begin working on the aspect of technique
6. Repeat steps 4 and 5 for up to two years
7.  If I'm lucky, there will be an epiphany and I will suddenly be able to execute the aspect of techchnique--once
8.  I will then be unable to replicate the epiphany and will subsequently spend an indefinite period of time trying to recapture the technique epiphany

For the past couple months I've been on Step 8 with my cornering.  I had the epiphany in Milwaukee back in August, and I've been vainly trying to replicate it ever since.  Every so often--maybe once per workout, if I'm lucky--a corner will "click" and I'll feel the smooth power that was so thrilling in Milwaukee...but most of the time, the corners are just...there.

I've spent a lot of time trying to figure out what I'm doing wrong.  I had thought that it was the "right side pinch" that had enabled me to get my left hip into the corner and properly execute the cornering technique.  But "pinch" though I might, the corners were just not clicking.  I finally concluded that perhaps the Roseville corners, with their wider radius, just didn't lend themselves to proper technique the way the Milwaukee corners did (What?  It couldn't possibly be me, could it? Must be the corner radius that's the problem.)

But then I went to Milwaukee last weekend, and the corners were still not feeling right.

Until, that is, I remembered something fellow masters skater Aussie Boy had said during practice the previous week (you have to imagine this being said with a faint Australian accent; Aussie Boy has been in the States for many years):

"Yeah, I finally figured out that I need to get my butt down before I enter a corner, and then everything is fine."

Unfortunately I didn't have this thought until after my two races; "unfortunately" because it turned out that the missing link to recreating my cornering epiphany was, indeed, getting my butt down.

In CrossFit, this is referred to as "Ass to Grass."

(Technically this refers to going below parallel when doing a squat, and yes, I did run this phrase by Urban Dictionary to make sure it didn't have any other, um, connotations that I was unaware of, and it seems to be clean).

It turns out that if I get my butt down and tuck my hips under just before my corner entry, then I can successfully execute the "pinch," get my left hip into the corner, get a full left leg underpush, and just generally rock the corner.

Yay.

Of course, I couldn't do it in my time trials this morning, but the corners in the warm up and cool down laps felt good, and hopefully it's only a matter of time until I can execute the technique at race speed.

Henceforth, I shall be chanting "ass to grass" just prior to every corner entry.

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."

Decembrrrrrrr

It's cold here.

Really cold.

"Get out the clunkiest Sorel boots and the snowpants and the Mad Bomber hat just to walk down the driveway to get the mail" cold.

"Put booties on the unimpressed dog" cold.

Yes, she's unimpressed...but at least her feet are warm.

It was 14 below when I got up this morning, and that was without the windchill.  American Cup racing started at 9 am, by which time the temperature had risen to a balmy minus 12.  As I may have mentioned once or twice, though, I wasn't skating the Am Cup.  Instead, I was standing on the sidelines, nicely bundled up, barely feeling the cold, and holding a stopwatch (I was timing the skater who starts in the second pair outer in quads, and was backup to the primary timer, who is backup to the electronic timing system--hey, someone's got to be bottom of the food chain).  It's always fun to time, and the cold really wasn't a problem for those of us who weren't wearing skinsuits and thin speedskates with no socks...but I would still much rather have been freezing my butt off out on the ice than standing on the sidelines in comfort.

So I guess I need to get faster so I can qualify to skate the Am Cup in Milwaukee at the end of the season.

I'll get right on that.

I Have Met the Enemy--and It Is ME

Or at least, it is my brain.

My brother-in-law likes to say "if you don't use your brain, your whole body suffers."  I've always thought this was mildly funny, and definitely true...but perhaps I've taken it too much to heart.

Back when TieGuy was coaching me, he often said "your main problem is between your ears."  Or sometimes he'd just look at me and tap his head.  What he meant was, your brain is getting in the way of what your body can do; your mental toughness is giving out before you're at your physical limit.  And I believed TieGuy, I just didn't (often) seem to be able to do much about it.  I had ample evidence of my "brain failure," especially in 3K races where my last lap would be a second or more faster than my next-to-last lap. Two laps to go?  My brain says "I can't."  One lap to go?  Brain says "oh, yeah, no problem...I can do that for one more lap."  When I only have one more lap to go I discover that I can, indeed, go faster.

In my brother-in-law's terms, I use my brain too much and my body doesn't suffer enough.

I re-discovered this fact a couple weeks ago, when my first 3K of the season featured a fourth and fifth lap that were way slower than the sixth and seventh laps.  So last week I decided to work on my "mental toughness" by finishing my multiple 3K endurance workout by turning the fifth and final 3K into "as many laps as I can do before my back gives up."  Turns out I could do 9 laps, one-and-a-half more than the 3K I set out to do.  So yesterday I decided to try this tactic in my 2x5K endurance workout.

As it turned out, I probably could have picked better weather conditions for a 2x5K (if I had a say in the weather, which of course I don't).  It was warm, windy, and snowing/raining, which led to extremely slow ice.  But still, it was endurance night, so 2x5K it was!   I picked what I thought would be a reasonable lap time for the ultra-slow ice--50 seconds--and decided that, rather than do 12.5 laps (a 5K), I'd just keep going until I couldn't keep my laps under 50 any more.  Usually I count down the laps in an endurance workout and feel like I'm just trying to hang on until the final lap.  By continuing on until I actually couldn't make the lap times any more, I hoped to prove to myself that I had a lot more "in the tank" than I thought.

Which, it turned out, was correct.  I didn't do 12.5 laps at the sub-50 pace.

I did 18.

And then, after a rest break, I did another 14.

So I think I'll be doing quite a bit more work on the "mental toughness" thing.  Because if I can do 18 laps at a pace I thought would be decent for 12.5...maybe I can do 12.5 laps at a faster pace than I think. And, since I haven't improved my 3K or 5K Personal Bests in almost 2 years, a faster 12.5 laps, or a faster 7.5 laps, sounds pretty good right now,

Thanksgiving 2013

In a nutshell:  went to the cabin.  Big Thanksgiving dinner with family.  Awesome food.  Ate too much.  Hung out with parents and their four small dogs.  Walked, ate, watched football, stared at Lake Superior.  Didn't take pictures because I forgot my camera.  Came home.  Went to work.  Came down with the Hubster's cold.  Skipped CrossFit today.  Ate some more.  Hoping to recover from the illness in time for 5K endurance sets tomorrow night at the oval.

All in all, a very successful and enjoyable Thanksgiving (except the getting sick part today).

(On the American Cup racing front, still no reply from US Speedskating to my questions about when/why the qualifying standards were applied to Roseville.  On the plus side, I'm sick and it's going to be about five below zero this weekend--conditions that make standing on the sidelines covered in down and polar fleece and holding a stopwatch a much more attractive option than skating one's lungs out in, essentially, one's underwear.  So at least I have that consolation).