Stories worth sharing rarely begin with “So ... [I] decided to stay in”
Recall that I was on top of my game; skiing better and faster than ever. Then the unfortunate event occurred – a ripped hamstring. My “A” race, the 50km Lake Placid Loppet, was in three weeks. The sensible thing to do may have been to admit defeat. Cancel my loppet. Stay inside. I couldn't let that happen. M.I.C.E. The Muon Ionization Cooling Experiment you ask? Nope. Movement, ice, compression and elevation. Those are the four words of wisdom imparted by the nice man in the red jacket with the white cross right after I injured my hamstring. Combining those four ingredients of soft tissue damage repair with my Wolverine-like self healing powers proved to be a recipe for success.
There's lots of information out there about assessment and recovery times for hamstring injuries. I self-assessed my injury as a grade 2 injury with anything from between 2 and 8 weeks for recovery. I had two doctor ski buddies at the race who said I'd be skiing in three weeks. They both just coincidentally happened to be registered in the same loppet as me – that same loppet was exactly 3 weeks from the date of my injury.
“If I had nine hours to chop down a tree, I'd spend my first six sharpening my ax.” Abraham Lincoln
“What you get by achieving your goals is not as important as what you become by achieving your goals.” Henry David Thoreau
In this situation, I beg to differ. What I'd become for pushing myself to ski (on a bad leg) the 50km loppet was not worth what I'd get for finishing the 25km kort loppet; a finisher pint glass. Taking into consideration that I finished three 50km ski races last year and that I didn't have a loppet finishers pint glass, I reset my Lake Placid goal from the 50km loppet to the 25km kort loppet.
As sure as Jimmy Dean sausages add sunshine to your
Moral of the story: Sticking to a focused recovery program;
Very simple was my explanation, and plausible enough—as most wrong theories are! The Time Machine (1895) by H. G. Wells.
Light
travels through space at about 300 million meter/second. In exotic
materials like Bose–Einstein condensates near absolute zero, the
effective speed of light may be only a few meters per second. Special
relativity has many counterintuitive implications. These include time
dilation (speeding clocks run (tick) more slowly as their speed
increases in relationship to the speed of light). The factor γ
by
which times dilates is known as the Lorentz factor and is given by γ
=
(1 − v2/c2)−1/2,
where v
is
the speed of the object (clock) and c is the speed of light. Time
dilation is negligible for speeds much slower than c,
such as most everyday speeds—in which case special relativity is
approximated by Galilean relativity (Classical Physics)—but is more
pronounced as object speeds increase and diverges to infinity as v
approaches
c;
i.e.,time stands still.
It
was a gorgeous Saturday afternoon in the Adirondacks when time stood
still. The Mount Van Hoevenberg cross-country ski trails were
beautifully groomed for the 2015 Empire State Winter Games. I was to
race the18K classical style mass start race and I was wearing my WWI
biplane pilot skull cap (in team colors) and goggles. I've been
trained for this moment. I've never felt better or skied faster.
Joe's expert instructions coupled with hours and hours of base
training had me well prepared. Maybe too well prepared.
I
hung around the starting coral the same way those nasty-ass wasps
hang around the neck of your beer bottle every Labor Day weekend. I
drank one of those pests once. I think the only human reflex that is
faster than ducking a fast ball or pulling your hand off a hot stove
is spitting out a wasp. I lined up near the front. As my eyes scanned
the competition, I thought to myself, “these guys are fast. I'm
going to need to double pole my butt off to maintain position”.
What I should have been thinking was, “what am I doing here? I need
to move back.” The race starting official sounded like a random
number countdown generator; if there is such a thing: “one minute
to start, 30 seconds..., 7 seconds.., three, go!” Go I did.
The
starting coral accommodated five racers side-to-side. The race
started with a mandatory 50 meter double-pole. At the end of the 50
meters were three tracks. Completely by accident, I double-poled
right into the middle track. An early stroke of luck that also
reminded me that the most left-hand track was the place for me to be
for the first descent – which was still a kilometer away. The
double-poling continued; it was by far the fastest technique for this
section of the course. I was keeping up. I even had to lower my
poling cadence. I moved to the left most track. I was ready for the
descent.
At
this point, I should have been thinking “drafting is great; I'm
just going to sit here and enjoy the free ride”, however, my brain
was screaming “I am strong; I need to pass this guy ahead of me”.
I went for the pass by moving one track to the right. Almost
instantly the track that I just moved to disappeared. I knew this
track ended, I had seen that it ended in my warm-up and my plan was
to move left and stay left though the first descent. Being out of
track is no big deal and I could have just kept double-poling... but
my psycho-racer brain needed that left track at that moment more than
anything. I knew that the guy, I had just passed, was close behind.
As I made my move back to the left track I looked over my shoulder to
see just how close. Big mistake. Rookie mistake. Stupid mistake. One
second later I was on the ground, face down, wound up like a mall
pretzel (the healthy type – no salt) unable to move due to the
excruciating pain in my right upper thigh. Time had stopped.
Time
didn't stop instantaneously, it slowed to a stop. Time started to slow when I sensed that
something was amiss. When I looked down it became obvious to me
that I was in trouble. I had crossed my ski tips when I twisted to
look over my shoulder while executing the track entry. Some days I
can recover from crossed ski tips. Today was not to be one of those
days. I panicked, uttered something like “oh shit”, and began my
new-born-giraffe-ish dance. Someone skiing next to me said “smart
move” I'm not sure if they were commenting on my skiing abilities
or complimenting the person that I had passed for anticipating my
demise and moving to the right before they became part of the finale.
Next came the long, drawn-out process of coiling my legs and skis.
During this process, I remember being concerned for my ski bindings.
My bindings where having to endure a great deal of torsional stress.
While all of this was progressing, I was listening and watching all
the racers pole by. Just before I came to rest, there was a strange
sensation in my upper thigh. The feeling fell on the sensation scale
somewhere between what it feels like when you slide into a hot tub
after a snow roll and how I'd expect to feel if I were Velcro and got
pulled apart. By now time had stopped. My theory: I was the clock
speeding through a Bose–Einstein condensate and my Lorentz factor
approached infinity.
A
hamstring injury is a strain or tear to the tendons or large muscles
at the back of the thigh. The
hamstring muscles allow you to extend your leg behind your body and
to bend your knee. An injury can occur if any of the tendons or
muscles are stretched beyond their limit. Hamstring injuries often
occur during sudden, explosive movements, such as sprinting, lunging,
jumping, or looking over your shoulder while skiing into a track. The
muscle will often spasm (seize up) and feel tight and tender. Walking
is painful.
Once
I had rested and kissed my podium ambitions goodbye, I returned to my
normal space time continuum. My next concern was to get off the race
course (I will admit, I remember being quite comfortable lying in the
freshly groomed snow in my Podiumwear kit). The women's start was
scheduled five minutes after the men. Jennifer (Dreamgirl) would be
skiing by in less than five minutes – I needed to hide so that I
didn't screw up her race. A good Samaritan wearing a red jacket with
a white cross undid my ski binding, and with considerable
concentration and cursing I was on my feet hobbling off into the
woods to hide. I stood motionless and watched as the Dreamgirl
double-poled by. Jennifer looked and skied beautifully.
2015 Empire State Winter Games
Kit up... And they will come...
“The Lake Placid Loppet is one of the best events of its kind in the country. Over the past 30 years, thousands of skiers have enjoyed skiing and racing on the challenging Mt. Van Hoevenberg trails at the Olympic Sports Complex. The Lake Placid Loppet is conducted by the Olympic Regional Development Authority on the Olympic Sports Complex Cross Country Ski Trails. The Loppet runs on a slightly modified version of the 50km course constructed for the 1980 Winter Olympics making it one of the most challenging citizen races in the world. Skiers should consider carefully whether to enter the 50km classic event.” The 2014 Loppet was rescheduled from January to March; what is normally the season opening race was now the season closer. I considered all other races to be training for the Loppet.
Training race one: In the heart of Vermont's unspoiled Northeast Kingdom, you'll find some of the finest cross-country skiing in New England at the Craftsbury Nordic Center. We had excellent snow coverage at the Center thanks to snow making, super smooth, wide and well drained trail surfaces and herculean snow farming efforts. The Nordic Center groomed a 12.5k loop using the Center core trails; the race consisted of four laps, classic technique. This was also my first use of fluorinated wax. It was a beautiful blue-blue day. With the old transitioned snow, my glide wax was layered to improve its durability and kick wax applied in eight thin tapered layers to minimize drag while ensuring sufficient kick for the 31 mile race. (For some reason 31 miles sounds more impressive than 50 kilometers.) I finished the race in 4 hours and 43 seconds (4:00:43), a 27th place finish in the age 50-59 field of forty-one racers. My skis had never been faster - which required me to finally learn to really tuck (think cannon ball) if I was to stay in the tracks on downhill turns.
Training race two: North America's largest Cross Country Ski Race, held annually each February. The world comes to the Cable & Hayward Wisconsin for the American Birkebeiner cross country ski race. The Birkie trail is world-famous and takes racers on a challenging 54k (33 miles) course from Cable to Main Street in downtown Hayward. Over 9,500 skiers, including many international visitors, participate in this event. Over sixteen hundred and fifty (>1,650) racers started my event. Having raced the 2012 Lake Placid 25k Korte Loppet with a time of 2 hours, the Birkie organizers considered it appropriate to start me in wave eight; that’s spot fifteen hundred and sixty-seventh (1,567th) if I got the hole-shot in my wave. Most vivid memory was seeing several individual waves - hundreds of skiers - working their way along the undulating trail ahead - like a succession of marching bands moving along a Thanksgiving Day parade route - thinking, “I’m going to have to pass every single one of those skiers.” Over the next four hours and fifty-three minutes (4:53:44) I kicked and glided my way to a 567th place finish, passing no less than one-thousand and eighty-three (1083) racers along the way. Feed stations resembled bazaars; countless skiers milling from volunteer to volunteer rummaging for the right snack. There was no feed fast lane; to save time and maximize passing efficiency I skipped several opportunities to take on nutrition. Later in the race I paid the price of nearly bonking. With several hundred passes under my belt, I slid out of the mid race feed station with a cinnamon-sugar coated banana chunk in each cheek, a cookie in my teeth and a cup of energy drink to wash it down. Lesson learned: I need to eat and drink.
Training race three: New York State Ski Racing Association (NYSSRA) Championships at Lake Placid. I participated in two races, the 2x4 relay and the 17k classic. In the relay, I skied second, a 2k classic technique sprint. Being a short race, I warmed up by twice skiing the race loop. The snow was fast and tracks well set. Early in the loop, there was a downhill that dog-legged to the left. There something about team racing that makes me put it all out there. My third trip down the dog-leg ended in a too fast track re-entry attempt; the tip of my left ski caught, and I went down on my left knee, and slammed my right hip into the hard packed track. Somehow I avoided get tangled up in my skis and I was back on my feet almost as fast as I went down – just a lot sorer. Our team effort ended in 10th place finish of 19 teams. Lesson three, keep my speed under control.
Training race four: NYSSRA Championship 17K; perfect conditions; first race with significant climbing. The race was three laps that covered in inner loop of the 1980 Winter Olympics ladies 5k course plus a portion of the East Mountain climb with a bonus finish; a climb up Main Street trail. There was a mass start of fifty-five skiers that quickly sorted themselves out climbing the inner loop trail. It then became a race of attrition. By the start of lap three I was with a group that had become familiar with each other’s strengths and weaknesses. At this point it was a game of strategy. I learned the importance of maintaining contact and saving something for the big finish. Three of us (Joe, me and Mark) started the Main Street climb together. I was in the middle. Half way up the climb (maybe 50 meters from the finish) the pitch steepened. I started my final sprint and passed Joe to take the lead. I jumped too fast giving Joe the advantage of surprise and I was overtaken at the finish line; by a boot. Lesson four – don’t start your sprint finish until the opponent hasn’t time to react. It turns out that Joe is ten years younger than Mark and I so I still brought home a Bronze. Mark ended up out of the medals.
Lake Placid Loppet: Waxing was like playing roulette; and like roulette, I improved my odds by covering several conditions by prepping several sets of skis. I had hard waxed skis, klistered skis and a secret weapon: SkinTech armed skis. An hour before race time hard wax was the ticket. Then the Sun came out on the guaranteed cloudy day. Three minutes to go time, confidence in my choice of kick wax had diminished to an intolerable level. I panicked and opted for my secret weapons. Twenty-six racers started the 50k classic and like the NYSSRA Championship, the racers sorted themselves out early. A lead pack broke off early in the East Mountain climb. I marked Mr. New Jersey and Mr. Saranac Lake. As we continued to climb, I could see that New Jersey was having wax issues and was glad I had chosen the SkinTechs. Saranac Lake had great kick and we soon pulled away from New Jersey. There is a price one pays for using SkinTechs – drag. The drag soon became apparent. On each downgrade Saranac Lake pulled away with better glide. On each upgrade I’d have to close the gap with an aggressive kick. The race is two laps of a course that includes four major (spirit crushing) climbs. The first major climb follows the long downgrade that is the Cascade Loop. Saranac Lake seriously gapped me on the Cascade Loop downgrade. At the end of the first major climb, I had mostly re-closed the gap; however, closing the gap was exacting too great of a penalty and I had to let Saranac Lake go, hoping that his kick would eventually give out. At this point it was all about racing smart (employ lessons learned) and maintaining position. I finished strong at 4:04:42; four minutes off my target time. I was very happy with my race, my finish time and collected another Bronze medal for my effort.
In addition to employing lessons learned from the previous races, following a training routine (special thanks to Dreamgirl (who also medaled in at Lake Placid), getting the right nutrition, maintaining a consistent race preparatory routine (special thanks to GU and Podiumwear), and rest were the keys to what I consider a successful race season.
P.S. HRRT has announced intentions of supporting a 2015 Nordic Ski Team – Race in awesome race suits and they will come.
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