WILDFLOWER

In the past, I have showed up to races exhausted, sick, hungry, and/or hungover (in my much younger, less mature days, of course) and, every once in a while, my performace far exceeds what I deserve. I spent the week of the 2006 Ironman 70.3 world championships very sick, exhausted, and mad at my poor little sister for passing her bug onto me. I ended up feeling fantastic on raceday (crash included). Likewise, I remember a particular half marathon in college in which the first several miles were tainted by Long Island Iced Tea burps from beverages consumed mere hours prior to the gun . . . PR. The point of this blog entry isn't to corrupt my underaged readers nor to convince all of you who know me better that I really am wild and hip (it is Saturday night and I'm blogging after all), but really to affirm my long-held belief that some days my body is up for racing and sometimes it isn't. I don't know that I necessarily have a whole lot of control over it. I know many triathletes who would insist that this isn't the case, and that optimal performances are always possible with proper training, rest, tapering, nutrition, supplementation, weather, etc, but having "failed" at several races for which I was, in my opinion, properly prepared, I really do think that in some races, I just don't have "it." IM Coeur d'Alene 2006 and the Grand Columbian half come to mind. I know this isn't a very proactive approach to a race, but it doesn't mean that I don't attempt to learn something from every failure, nor that and "it"less race much end in disaster.

Wildflower was one such race. Last year I made the 17 hour road trip to Lake San Antonio, California in Conrad's Xterra with Troy, Dan Schrempp, Conrad, 4 bikes, 3 tents, lots of smelly shoes and a canoe-sized cooler. It was epically fun. We scored a killer camp site with a picnic table, my college roommate Rachael came up from LA, and I laughed for all but the 5 hours I was actually racing. As an amateur, I had a breakthrough race at Lake San Antonio last year, winning the amateur race by over 11 minutes. I remember reflecting on the bike course thinking that its difficulty was seriously over-rated and that the run course was under-rated. I also remember watching the pro women start over 1 hour before me last year and thinking "I sure am glad I don't have to start yet." Fast forward 1 year . . .

It turns out that starting in the pro wave is a bit of mixed blessing. Brilliant because there aren't heaps of slow swimmers from previous waves to swim through and there is plenty of clean water to be had. However, most of you know that swimming is not my strong suit and I have an unfortunate tendency to get dropped by the rest of the pro women in the first 50 meters. Too much clean water for me really. It is going to be a lonely IM Coeur d'Alene this year if I have to do the whole 4 km by myself. I honestly haven't even been able to see the rest of the pack in my past two races. Oi Vey. My swim still ended up being 3 minutes faster than last year (mostly due to the lack of 2007's wind and chop) and 2 minutes faster than the California 70.3, so I didn't much mind heading out onto the bike by myself (as fast male age-groupers streamed by, that is).

After all the pre-race nerves before Oceanside, I was strangely calm before this swim start. Too calm perhaps. I suppose I experience the worst in Oceanside (a completely solo swim), so there wasn't anything to fear.

The second I got out of the water, however, I felt horrible. T1 went smoothly enough, but as soon as I mounted my bike, the hurt began. This sensation usually happens when I'm tired and training hard and my thighs feel "burny," but despite several days of reduced training, there wasn't an ounce of freshness in my muscles. I don't imagine that 2 days in the car is the best pre-race regime, but it's enforced rest, and it worked for me in 2007. The first big climb out of the lake basin had me wheezing like a shameless asthmatic, which is a very unusual occurence for me.

After 20 miles or so, I was able to settle into a so-so pace. It's a bit demoralizing being steadily passed by top age-group men, as opposed to steadily passing slow age-group men as I had the year before, but I know I have no control over the people around me and I can only focus on my race. I didn't do that terribly well, especially after the brutal climb at mile 40 when I caught myself repeatedly flaking out. Remember when I said that last year I thought the bike course was over-rated? I changed my mind. All said, I biked about 20 seconds faster than last year, though I was convinced that I was riding about 10 minutes slower. I don't race with a speedo or heart-rate monitor, so it's often anyone's guess.

The run stunk. I never ever felt good. I spent the first few lightly rolling miles just trying to get my heart, stomach, and breathing under control in preparation for the ruthless hills that I knew were to come. Just as I seemed to do that, the hills indeed began. So did the heat. It was probably only in the low 80s, but to us northerners, we may as well have been vortexed to Death Valley. We had a weekend once when it got above 60 and have otherwise not been able to train in anything with short sleeves. Booties remain the standard on the bike.

Disheartened from the omission of the naked aid station at mile 4 (it cracked me up last year) I inched up the mile long, cambered dirt hill thinking "after this, everything else will feel easy." Wrong again. Somehow, in the midst of feeling awesome last year, I neglected to notice how tough all of the subsequent rollers are. I fell off the pace pretty substantially from miles 6 - 10. I actually swore off the race ever again at that point, but I reserve the right to retract that swearing off. A couple of gels at mile 10 restored a bit of wind to my sails (glycogen to my muscles?) and I pushed through to the end. I didn't realize it until after I got home, but I actually ran almost 2 minutes faster than last year, so I am retrospectively pleased with that fact. It just felt so slow.
Pushing down the finish chute my lips and fingers went numb and began to tingle. That's usually the sign that I've reached my limit. 12th place finish. Same as I would have been last year had I been racing pro. I'm really excited to do Boise so I can stop comparing all of my performances to last year!

Now the ode to my peeps. It turns out that the Spokane contingent pretty much rocked Wildflower! Jeff Blackwell, Sam Piccici, and Molly Obetz were all 5th in their age-groups, Ben Greenfield was 4th in his, Phaedra and Sean Linder were 8th in their age groups (Sean hadn't run in weeks due to a hip injury and still had a great race with painful aftermath, and Phaedra had a stomach bug), and Troy was 9th in his. These are huge age-groups, by the way, so everyone from our community was in the top 10% of their respective divisions. That is especially phenomenal given our cold spring and the difficult, hot conditions in California!

My carpool and camping mates, Sean, Troy, and Molly deserve special credit for being phenomenal company. They were even courteous enough to eat their post-race double doubles outside the car. Our campsite (above) wasn't exactly the paradise we scored last year, but it's amazing how a patch of grass can become home. Sean even sacrificed his tent fly so we had something to sit on. Unfortunately, this didn't provide much in the way of shade or peace from the early morning parking directors with megaphones. "Why did Ken send those guys down the hill?!!" When there are 30-something hours of driving, several nights of camping, and a mere 5 hours of racing, the race itself is almost seems like an afterthought. I cannot believe how well the trip has gone both years. I do not like sitting in cars, and the hours on the road flew by (perhaps that's easy for me to say since Troy did all of the driving). It may have been our reminicing about Conrad and his love for horses, the sagacious advice of Dr. Laura, or Molly's constant narrative (I can clearly see yr nuts!), but regardless, it was so fun I think I might just have to do it again.
Many thanks to Laura D. and Troy for the pictures!

Spring Thaw Duathlon / Spokane River Run

Can you find Phaedra?

Those pictures at the top of my last blog remain appropriate. I know I'm just singing to the choir if I berate the spring weather (and the forecast!), but holy gosh darn heck I'm sick of cold, snowy, windy, icky, non-bicycle friendly weather. Okay, that's out of my system now. It's time for belated race reports. Despite my whinging session, 2 weekends ago we had brilliant weather. Stunning amazing glorious 60+ degree sunshine. Even though I had to work all day Saturday, the enthusiasm of everyone who came into work from the Centennial trail was contagious, and it was a great day. My hot new Scott

Sunday was the 1st spring thaw duathlon and the temps topped 70 degrees! The race itself was really fun. I got a bit nervous during the first run because of the stellar female runners out there. After the 2-lap, 2.2 mile trail run, I came into T1 just behind Janet Collar and had a relatively smooth transition with my Zoot shoes. I decided, due to the longer, rough nature of the transition zone to wear my bike shoes through transition. Just as I mounted my bike, I saw Annie sail by with a flying mount. I had no idea she was so close behind. Luckily, she still had to get her feet into her shoes, and I was able to establish the lead at the start of the bike. Because it usually takes me a while to warm upon the bike, I felt pretty rotten hammering from the start. With only 10 miles to ride, there was no time to ease into the ride, but I was able to focus for such a short period of time. I expected the last run to feel horrible, but it was quite the opposite. I felt way better than I had the first time around (maybe I need to warm up more before these things?), my stride felt more relaxed, and I didn't run any slower. In the end, it was a fun, productive race, and I took a bit of time off of my course record from the year before. Final Run

Afterwards, a rather large group of us went for a 45 mile ride around Long Lake. I remember being killed by Conrad, Troy, and Pete the year before on a brutal 60 miler to Wellpinit, but the pace this year was MUCH better. Still challenging, but not completely daunting. It was wonderfully novel to wear shorts, a short-sleeved jersey, and no booties, hats, jackets, etc. At this rate, it's something we're not likely to experience again until July, but it was sure nice.

Fast forward one week to the Spokane River Run. I happily discovered this race a year ago, and it's one of my favorites now. It's a fundraiser for the Garfield Elementary APPLE program, and there are 5km, 10km, 25km, and 50 km options. I chose the 25 km option. All of the courses are completely on trails in Riverside State Park. In fact, during the 25km race, we only touched pavement once wjen we crossed the centennial trail just before the finish. It's not an easy course, with interesting footing in areas and lots of climing and descending, but I think it's a really good warm-up for Wildflower. Last year I had ridden 90 miles the day before (back when we actually had nice springs), and was predictably slow on the climbs. This year, I was just slow on the climbs.

The first 3 miles of the race are relatively flat, and I kept my heart rate about 6 beats below my typical 1/2 marathon race effort, figuring I would save a bit for the hills and the extra 3 miles. I owe a huge thanks to the guy who chased me down at the very start when I ran the wrong way. According to my Garmin, it was only about a .1 mile detour, so no big deal in the end, but I did have to endure ample chiding from everyone who saw me completely ignore the giant yellow arrows and run the wrong way. It was not the first time I have run off course in a trail run. I managed to do it 2 years in a row at the Tiger Tri in Colville.

After the first major climb and a 1 mile section on huge chunks of rock along an abandoned rail bed, the 2 guys I had been running with pulled away, and I completely bonked. I'm a bit upset with myself for not bringing some GU along, because sports drink wasn't available at the aid stations until about the 10 mile marker. Normally, I would just stick with water for a race of this distance, but it fell at the end of a particularly tough 3 week training block, and I don't think I had much in the way of glycogen reserves. The last 7 miles or so were really tough, but I managed to stick with it and held off a fast closing Martin Scates, who, incidentally, nearly caught me at the finish last year. He seems to be much better at pacing himself in this race than I. Regardless, I secured the top female spot, and learned a bit about using perceived effort rather than heart rate when my body is tired. The river is so full right now, it's spectacular. This is a picture of the race from a different year, but as you can see, it's not a bad place to run.

California!!!

The past week was my 2nd best spring break ever. The 10 days in the Bahamas in college will forever remain atop the list, but I probably laughed more during my week in SoCal than I have in the past year. Shelby, Steven, and Phaedra absolutely kept me rolling. I would love to throw out random quotes from the trip, but they would be irrelevant to the majority of my blog readers - all ten of them. Anyway, the break couldn't have been more timely. As I packed up my bike it was blizzarding outside.
These pictures don't really capture the giant horizontal snowflakes, but I assure you, it was a treat to leave. I'm told that it continued to snow the entire week that I was gone and admittedly, it was a bit disconcerting to fly back to a completely white landscape when I returned. It's supposed to be spring!

I was given a hint of things to come when Shelby and Steven came to pick me up at the airport along with Steven's Buddha, which was secured in the backseat (seatbelt and all) due to lack of space in his bedroom.
I'm trying to remember how exactly we stayed occupied during our pre-race week, and I pretty much just recall laughing a lot. We swam in her parents' retirement community pool, which was lovely despite it being a bit like a game of frogger with lots of people meandering around with their noodles. There were some mean ping pong games and I was slaughtered in my first ever game of Wii Tennis (and still have a nagging shoulder injury as a result). I also met my first ever hairless cats, which were at once scary-looking and surprisingly affectionate. I was lucky enough to run into the runwithryan.com crew, who appeared to know where they were going as I ran aimlessly around the Balboa Park trails. Thanks for letting me tag along guys. I'll find you again the next time I'm in San Diego.

We visted the velodrome hoping to hop into one of their "come try it out" sessions and also managed to leave the car unlocked and running (with radio blasting) in downtown La Jolla for the better part of the evening. Who does that?! Things got even better when Phaedra showed up, with more hilarity and, unfortunately, less sleep. I forgot, during the off-season, how annoying pre-race anxiety can be. I'm not a particularly nervous person, but this was my first ever race as a pro, and the field was stacked. It sounds negative, but I was really scared that I would come in last.

Four-o-clock am wake up calls are never welcome, but when I woke up Saturday morning, I knew that the only way to calm my nerves was to actually get the race done, so I slipped into my new ZOOT Ultra Team race kit and headed to Oceanside with Phaedra. Shelby had left the house at 3 a.m. because she foolishly volunteered to work the transition area. It turned out to be a great for me - she was my body-marker and she put the first ever "P" on the back of my leg. Phaedra caught my attention just as I was about to walk down the swim ramp for some last minute encouragement. The terror almost felt like Kona all over again, except that the water was about a million times colder this time around.

The swim was rough. Something funky has been going on for the past several weeks in the pool (not to mention that I was really struggling to fit swim sessions into my schedule at all), and it showed in the race. It's amazing how lonely a race can be when you're in the first wave and the entire swim pack drops you in the first minute. I never even saw them again. I didn't come out of the water dead last though - just 4th to last. The best part of the swim was my new ZOOT Zenith wetsuit, which was awesomely flexible. For the first time ever, my shoulders didn't feel at all fatigued at the end of the 2000 m wetsuit swim, even with my Wii injury. I didn't know that was possible. (34:00)

The first 25 miles of the bike were equally lonely and very interesting. I never saw anyone, with the exception of the odd male age-grouper who whizzed by. When you're a good 6-10 minutes behind the majority of your competitors, it takes a while to catch back up to them. It did ultimately happen, however. I passed a pair of women at the 25 mile marker and then proceeded to tick off at least another dozen during the rest of the ride. My SCOTT plasma was absolutely dreamy and smooth. I've only had it a for a few weeks, but I'm getting dialed in fit wise, and am enjoying (most) every moment I spend with my new bike. I probably should have ridden a little harder, but the 25 mile solo time trial was a good experience (2:42).

The run was okay. I never felt like i was pushing terribly hard, but my pre-season fitness isn't yet high enough to allow me to run much faster. I did get passed by a small handful of women managed to pass one, but for me a 1:31 half marathon is decent for my first race of the season. I certainly felt like my legs wanted to run more quickly, and I'm confident that that will come as my training starts to include more speed and strength endurance. It was also my first time racing in the new ZOOT Ultra shoes, and T2 was awesomely quick and smooth as a result. It was fun to notice Shelby's (Charmin's) chalk art along the run course. She was the best course volunteer of the day for sure!.

Phaedra started the race almost an hour after I did, so I had plenty of time to take advantage of the post-race massage service while I waited for her to finish. The thing I didn't manage to do was eat very much (Katie at the Metabolic Institute will be so disappointed in me!). When we finally made it to a restaurant around 4:30 pm for my first solid food in 12 hours, the only thing they could bring out asap was french fries, and we absolutely devoured them. So much for trying to get in a 4:1 ratio of carbs:protein in post-race. How about fat? I don't even think there was much potato in the fries. They were really just the crispy outside part. Sorry Katie!

Then Shelby and Phaedra dropped me off at the new Sheraton in Carlsbad for the ZOOT Ultra Team Camp, which was probably the fanciest hotel I've ever stayed in. Unfortunately I didn't get to spend much time between the crisp, clean sheets, but the five hours that I did spend in bed were blissful. The reason for the lack of sleep was the ZOOT/Timex/Triathlete Magazine party which probably would have been mostly tame had Phaedra and Shelby not come to liven things up substantially.

Flattering, I know.

I give myself credit for outlasting the rest of the Zoot-ers, but those Timex athletes put me to shame. Granted, they didn't have to walk home in the rain or get up for a 6 am team run the following morning, but I nonetheless must credit their stamina. I was sad to have to leave camp early the next day, but I'm glad I got the brief opportunity to learn more about the products I'll be using this season (Zoot, Fuelbelt, GU, Scott, Zipp, Suunto). It was especially nice to meet my teammates, as we'll be surely seeing each other at races all over the country this summer. Until then I'll be cranking through my last quarter of organic and biochemistry and braving through the snow that continues to fall. Many thanks to those who made this week surpremely fun and memorable.

Lewiston Duathlon & St. Paddy's 5

My OChem final was yesterday, so my evenings have heretofore been devoted to less self-promotional activities. Okay, that only partially assuaged my blog-related guilt, so it's time for the weekend race wrap up. In a nutshell, 2 races, 2 wins, so no room for complaint. Unless, of course I was to complain about not having broken my Lewiston duathlon record from last year. In fact, I was 52 seconds slower, which is a bit concerning, since there wasn't any discernable difference in the weather. There were mumblings about the bike course being a hair longer this year, but I think my slower pace was likely due to my legs feeling horrible and dead on the bike. It happens sometimes. Regardless, it was a very fun day. Phaedra and Laura were my traveling buddies, and we shared a lot of laughs - initially at the weather (serious snow storms on the drive down) and later at Hayden's (Phaedra's son) antics.

There was also a fun-loving Spokane-based crew down there and we had a hard time taking ourselves too seriously, as the following pictures might attest.

The next day was the St. Paddy's Five - a classic 5 mile road race on the Spokane running calendar. I hadn't planned to do it because of the duathlon the day before and because I needed to get in a long ride. I knew that this chem final was going to eat up a bit of time over the subsequent few days, so Sunday was my only real window. After my first good night's sleep in ages, I woke up feeling rested and the weather looked WAY too nasty for an early morning ride. My legs felt pretty fresh (thanks to Katie at the Metabolic Institute for helping me with a recovery regimen!), and I knew there was a (small) chance of winning the $1000 spot prize after the race, so I headed over to SCC, where I immediately ran into a lot of my favorite Spokanites. Conveniently, a lot of my favorite people are runners. My only regret was running across a completely water-logged stretch of sod during my warm-up which resulted in my having very wet and cold feet until the race began.

It turns out that 5 mile races are over very quickly. My heart rate reached zones it hasn't seen in years, and I got out-kicked by a fourteen year-old boy down the final stretch, but I did mangage to (barely) eek out sub-six minute miles and the women's win. I didn't win the $1000, but Conrad did, so that was pretty cool.

After heading home and scarfing down a giant bowl of pasta, Conrad swung by to pick me up for a ride. It didn't end up being as long as I had initially planned, but it was quality. An easy zone 2 ride for him and upper zone 3 for me, but really fun. My legs burned from the races, but they felt strong and we managed to ride during one of the few breaks in what has been a pretty icky weather system lingering around the area for the past couple of weeks. There were moments (when we had a tailwind, naturally) that I couldn't keep the grin off of my face. When it's good on the bike, it's phenomenal. When it's bad (today) . . . nevermind.

In other news, Aaron is in Minnesota for the national biathlon championships right now. His first race is tomorrow (March 20) so feel free to send along good luck wishes. I can't wait to have him home, but am excited to hear how it goes!

Snake River 1/2 Marathon

The first race of the season always gives me the jitters, even when it isn't a terribly important one. Luckily, this weekend I had Phaedra and Annie to take the edge off while we road-tripped down to Waiwai (?!) for the Snake River 1/2 marathon. I can't ever take myself too seriously when those two gals are around. If only Annie would learn that she can't sabotage my race by making me car sick with all of her sun visor shennanigans! Sheesh.

I love this picture of Tronrad

The purpose of the race for me was to set a pre-season benchmark and to see where my fitness is this year as compared to last. Last year, in what I learned were abnormally mild conditions, I raced tired and unintelligently and finished with a time of 1:26:05. I went into the race last weekend hoping to run somewhat faster (in the 1:25 range), but wasn't necessarily expecting to do so, as it is hard to adequately evaluate my fitness with all of my favorite training benchmarks perpetually covered in snow and ice (the track, etc.).

Descending into the canyon, it became evident that fitness was not to be the only factor in the race, as the winds had kicked up and had a hand to play. It was chilly too, and the stiff wind in my face at the start line had me at least pleased at the prospect of a negative split on the out-and-back course. Naturally, that formidable headwind only lasted about 600 meters, and then seemed to magically die out. Right. Like any running fool, I thought myself to be particularly fleet-footed on this morning, clocking 6:15 miles, without a great deal of effort. I was nagged by the fact that I had gone out too hard the year before and suffered the glycogen-deprived consequences, but became increasingly convinced of my winter base training and went with it. That is, until the turn around. It turns out that the wind had never died down at all - it was hurling me towards the turnaround the whole time. And then I had to fight it. In a pacing manouver, I had fallen off of the back of the small pack of guys that I had run out with, not realizing that I would desperately need them on the return. So I played a tactical card and slowed up to wait for someone to work with into the wind. I couldn't have been luckier in the next person to come by. He was a guy in yellow and he did an amazing job catching us back up to my original group. There were 4 of us for the most part, and I can't imagine having tried to do that alone. The times that I found myself out in front were unbelievably hard.

It was a tough 6.5 miles, but I think they were smartly executed, and I owe Peter and the guy in yellow a great deal for doing more than their fair share of the pulling. My finish time was 1:24:32, which was good enough for the women's win, but that is of little importance. (on a side note, 9 Garmins have confirmed that the course was 13.2 miles. yay technology.) What is important is that my fitness appears to be at least on par and probably a bit better than it was as this point last year. That makes me exceedingly happy, given that most of last season was spent convalescing, which doesn't typically result in great fitness gains.

Checking my time like a good little anal triathlete

Then I got to hang out with Annie and Phaedra again on the whole drive home. What a lucky day, huh? I know many athletes who don't feel the same way, but I love out-and-back races. From competitive standpoint, I can see where my competition is, and from a social standpoint I get to cheer on all of my friends. I was astounded by how many familiar faces I saw running the opposite direction and it was a riot getting to yell their names and deliver the odd High-5. I'm still trying to decipher Conrad's comment though. "Get stinky?" I'm going to miss some names, but I want to give a shout out to everyone whose effort last weekend made me proud to call them my friends. Here it goes: Nice work, Phaedra, Annie, Conrad, Troy, Katie, Peter, Mike, Michael, Scott, Amanda, Aubre, Erika, Kirk, Tim, Mark, Vicki, Sasha, Steve, Eric, Martin, and everyone whose name doesn't spontaneously come to mind, but whose face made the day even better. Cheezy, ay?!

My Peeps (pretty quick ones at that - notice the medals)

Blackjack Loppet

Last week was marked by a lot of school and work. Thankfully, in the midst of the seemingly endless routine was carved out a brilliantly protracted day that seemed to erase all the previous week's whinging and low grade "what am I doing with my life" depression. Anyone who knows me that using the term depression is a bit severe, but Aaron can certainly attest to the extent to which the quotidian nature of my February was getting me down. Homework on Valentines Day. Yee Haw. Regardless, after work on Saturday I drove straight up to Colville to meet Aaron at work so we could drive to Rossland the next morning for the Blackjack Loppet. Luckily, Aaron is better at motivating to prep his skis than I, and we spent the better part of the evening attempting to wax our skis in a somewhat tidy fashion in the Mt. Carmel Hospital staff house kitchen.

The day began well before I would have liked with a pre-dawn alarm clock, and there was a bit of apprehension knowing that the day would be very physically grueling, and that I would have a lot of Canadian competition to boot. I am under the impression that cross country skiing takes on a whole new level of religiosity once the border is crossed, and I did my typically brilliant job of psyching myself out at the start line. "Oh my gosh, she's really skinny and her lycra tights have logos all over them. She must be fast."

As much as I would like to maintain skate skiing as a recreational activity and to not focus too much on drills and intervals, I really should work on my double poling. I got caned in the mass start and was immediately blocked in by a bunch of jr.'s and about half of the British Columbian populace. Luckily, the trail for the first km or so was really wide, and the inevitable shuffling of skiiers ultimately worked itself out. I took the lead as soon as I was able to make my way though the crowd and that was it. Atypically, I wasn't thereafter consumed with my usual front-of-the-pack-terror, which normally has me freaked out that someone I previously passed will catch up to me and the Earth will be unleashed from its axis and the world as we know it will end. Because these things are obviously related.

The course was awesome! Three tough 10 km loops with an exhaustingly lengthy climb, a couple of fun, moderately technical descents, and several steepish rollers. My first time up "the climb" was fairly anxiety provoking, as I tried to fathom how the hill would feel the second and third times around. Every time I thought the climb was over I turned a corner and saw the trail continue upwards. More anxiety. There wasn't much of a chance to capitalize on the descents either, as they ended abruptly and painfully in the form of a steep hill. The good part is that each subsequent lap only felt easier than the time before. When I expect the worst, I am always underwhelmed.

It wasn't a big race, but I have to give a big kudos to the Blackjack ski club for putting on such a wonderful event. The course was perfectly groomed, marked, marshalled, and supported. And although the Blackjack folks had no control over it, the weather was spectacular. The morning began in a bit of a cloud that occasionally wafted on to reveal some blue sky. As the race progressed, the sun asserted its dominance and a smattering of light clouds added another level of depth to the atmosphere. There were moments during the race when sunlight filtered through the cedars and illuminated ice crystals suspended in the air. It was like skiing through a tunnel of ultra-fine sparkles!

After the friendly post-race feed and awards ceremony (I got a really neat, locally crafted, mug), Aaron and I headed out for a recovery ski. We were only going to do Aqueduct, but ended up skiing another 20+ km. I was pretty "burny," but my energy levels were still high, the day continued to be brilliant, and I had a wonderful time skiing and chatting with Aaron. It's not often that I don't feel guilty having him ski at my pace, but after a 30 km race, I felt no guilt at all. Even the car ride back was fun, and though the movie we subsequently starved through was not, it was a memorable and welcome day. I should add as a side note that some ringers came over from Canmore for the men's race, but Aaron still managed a 4th place overall and won his master's division.

Monday it was straight back to work, but I felt renewed and cheerful. I can't say that I prefer working to being outside on these sunny February days, but I'll take what I can get :)

Langlauf

After Saturday's competitive disappointment, I was thrilled to drive up Mt. Spokane Sunday morning for my first ever Langlauf 10 km classic ski race. Again, underpreparedness ruled, and I found myself scraping, brushing and base-binding my classic skis at the last minute. The process wasn't made any easier by the severe wax box deficits that resulted from Aaron's trip to Colorado. I can't blame him though, they're his brushes and waxes after all. Regardless, I showed up at the Fitness Fanatics tent and let John and Uli advise me as to what the heck to do in the wax department. I should have realized that the reason all of the good skiiers were being so deliberate is that there is a science to classic ski waxing, but I had had enough of science during the previous week's chemistry classes. So I put on some red, then yellow, and then left a layer of gloppy silver on for good measure. In my limited classic skiing experience, it's better to have too much kick than too little.

So it was off to the start, and with no real concept of how to seed myself, I settled into the corral behind the "fast" corral. There were some speedy looking 8 year olds in front of me, and I figured they probably had a better grasp of classic skiing than I. It wasn't the most brilliant of plans from a competitive standpoint, but the beauty was that I couldn't have cared less. Seeding myself so badly just gave me the opportunity to pass lots of people. It turns out that when you have gobs of gooey kick wax on, classic skiing is EASY. It's certainly easier than skating cardiovascularly. The conditions were very disorienting though. I had no idea where I was for most of the race. I know the Mt. Spokane trail system extremely well, but we started on the snowmobile road, and it was so foggy that I never noticed when we merged back onto the regular trails. Suddenly, there were cow-bell ringers saying that we were 1/2 done, and I couldn't even remember having been on Shadow Mt. On skate skis, Shadow is a pretty tough climb, but I was able to jog up it easily on my overwaxed classics. I certainly paid the price for my exessive wax on the flats when my skis would stick solidly to the snow, but since I wasn't in the race to compete, it was funny more than anything.

I recommend Langlauf to anyone. Even I (who had only classic skiied 3 times previously) had a great time and was tickled to be a part of so much xc ski enthusiam. The thick fog starkly contrasted with the brilliant sunshine of Mt. Bachelor, and my approaches to the two events couldn't have been more different, but it was undoubtedly one of my most memorable winter weekends of my life.