Setbacks and Success

Tomorrow is a team time trial- not a big deal, but a good chance to test myself.  Except for the 30km skate race last weekend, I haven't really logged many race efforts lately.  Training has been going well.  The trend is good, and it will be nice to go time trial and see how my body has responded to this "reset" period.

Yesterday, while sitting in my car waiting for practice to start, I noticed a quote printed on one of my reusable grocery bags from the store Lululemon Athletica.  It's covered in all kinds of great little wisdoms, but one seemed particularly relevant...

"Life is full of setbacks.  Success is determined by how you handle setbacks."

This season has been a little abnormal, but the setbacks have made me appreciate ski racing that much more.  With time, patience, and continued belief in myself, success will come.

 

Even in an individual sport, it's teammates who inspire...

Earlier this week my teammate on the US Ski Team and Alaska Pacific University Elite Team, Kikkan Randall, became the first American women to win a World Championship or Olympic medal.  She claimed silver in the 1.3km freestyle sprint in Liberec, CZE, and in doing so, accomplished what we've all believed to be possible for a long time.

Kikkan (left) receiving the first World Championship medal ever by an American women.

(photo credit: fasterskier.com)

Ever since I woke up early Tuesday morning, rolling out of bed to turn on my computer in anticipation of the results, I haven't been able to get this momentous accomplishment off my mind.  Before I knew Kikkan, she inspired me as one of the local legends in Alaskan sport.  Then I joined the Alaska Pacific University Nordic Ski Center team, and Kikkan took me under wing.  Since then we've grown as friends- traveling together for racing and leisure, living together when she first purchased a house, and overcoming huge obstacles in our pursuit of the sport of cross-country skiing.

The dream Kikkan realized this week was not only an incredible turning point in her life, but in the history of American cross-country skiing.  I am sure I am not alone in saying that her medal has been a huge inspiration to me, helping me see that even in this decidedly individual sport, teammates can inspire you to believe in yourself and your own dreams in ways you never imagined.  In light of this incredible event, I've put together a photo essay of sorts, having come to understand even more the inspirational power of team (and teammates).

Like Kikkan, I've dreamt of success in sport for as long as I can remember, looking to heroes in sport from the time I began skiing.  And even then, I was active because of the camaraderie, the interaction with my friends, and the support of my teammates.  

Talkeetna Elementary School cross-country runners, inspired by the fun of it and each other.

From Elementary cross-country running to junior nordic skiing, it was about the fun team, the inspiration that comes from sharing an exciting and competitive experience with others...

Denali Junior Nordic "Snowmads"

(photo credit: Arthur Mannix)

From these recreational programs designed to instill passion for activity and sport, I moved on to more competition-minded programs and came to realize the power in numbers.  There's nothing more inspiring that a group of driven training partners who share a common passion and desire for success...

The APU team out on force at a sprint time trial at Hatcher Pass, Alaska.

(Photo credit: Karen Mannix)

US Ski Team girls out on a long run in Park City, UT.

These teammates are the ones who push you to be better during every workout, every day of the year.  They're training partners and friends, a continuous source of external inspiration.

US Ski Team girls during a rollerski workout in Park City, UT.

(photo credit: Pete Vordenberg)

APU teammates going head-to-head in a sprint time trial, Hatcher Pass, AK.

(photo credit: Karen Mannix)

At times these teammates are also your competitors, making you work and hurt as you push toward your goals.  These same teammates are also the people you have fun with.  They're the ones you share experiences with... 

Off the trails (for instance, on the playground)...

On the trails, whether you're training or playing on skis...

In between sessions... and on Halloween!

You get to know these teammates, bond with these people in so many ways, and from these interactions your dreams become shared.

US Ski Team dinner on the lawn at a training camp in Park City, UT.

You adventure together...

(photo credit: Jeff Ellis)

Train hard together...

(photo credit: Pete Vordenberg)

Compete together...

Succeed together...

Support each other in victory...

And celebrate your successes together...

Cross-country skiing is an individual sport, but goals cannot be accomplished without the support of teammates.  Teams are our lifeline, and whether we see it our not, we cannot get there without them.  From the time we are small our "teams" inspire with group fun and games.  As we grow older teams become a source of inspiration thru our shared experiences, common bond, and mutual dreams.

Kikkan's accomplishment is close to my heart because I feel like I am a small part of her success.  She has lead the way, and I hope to follow....Congratulations Kikkan!

A busy weekend- racing, baking, recovery...

Sunday was the last race in the local Alaska Mountaineering and Hiking Anchorage Cup, the Sven Johansson freestyle race at Kincaid Park here in Anchorage.  The event features a 2.5km fun youth race and 10 km and 30km races.  The 3okm is known as the "tour of Kincaid," as the course basically covers all of the trails within the park without repeating anything.   It was my first shot at racing in nearly a month, since the World Cup, and I had no idea what to expect because my body has been a little "under" lately.

APU women in blue (Kate Arduser, Tazlina Mannix, Katie Ronsse).  

Photo credit: Barry Johnson

But I couldn't have dreamt of a nicer day to get out and go long.  At our noon start time it was about 20F, blue sky, and sunny.  The course was perfectly groomed, and the turnout was great.  The race organizers convinced me to start in the elite men's wave, rather than the elite women's, which went out after the second men's wave.  The other ladies on my team joined me, as did a few other local women, and we had a great time mixing it up with the men!  For such a long race it helps to ski in a pack, because people around you- especially teammates- help you along.  Racers take turns leading and drafting, because so much more energy goes into skiing solo or leading a group.  

I skied with two of my APU teammates the entire race (as seen in the above photo).  We all have decided strengths, and we took turning leading when we were feeling good.  For instance, it was noticeable that one of us had much faster skis on the downhills, making her a good person to jump in behind and draft.  I felt particularly good on the climbs and would try to take the lead and charge on the hills.  In the end, we all fought it out for the win.  Having misread the small print on the map, I thought we had one climb to go before the finish, when all the sudden we were spit onto a shortcut and were nearly at the finish.  I knew I hadn't started my final surge soon enough, being a distance skier I need to begin my final sprint in advance of many of my competitors.  I put the hammer down as soon as I realized my mistake and managed to get a gap, but on the slight downhill grade towards the finish one of my teammates began creeping up, and she managed to get me by .6 seconds at the line.  

In all honesty, it was anyone's race.  The three of us worked hard and worked together all 30km.  More importantly for me, it was good, both mentally and physically, to get back in the "game" again.  This effort indicated that I'm climbing out of the rut I've been stuck in.  I'm not out yet, but some training time has been exactly what I've needed!

  

After a wonderful afternoon on the trails, I came home and immersed myself in a little bread baking.  I'd promised a loaf of cinnamon raisin bread to some good friends, grandparents of sorts, who I've missed seeing lately.  After a brief visit last weekend, I was inspired to bring them a loaf of my favorite sweet corn raisin bread- a yeast-risen cornmeal loaf with plump raisins and a hint of honey.  For the sake of experimentation, I made the larger loaf (shown above) with approximately 75% white whole wheat flour in place of the white flour, in an attempt to make a more hearty breakfast bread.  The smaller, more golden loaf (shown below at right) was made solely of white flour and cornmeal.  My afternoon of baking was enjoyable and rewarding as always (as was the nap between risings).

Today a loaf was delivered as promised to my Anchorage grandparents, and from what I hear, even toasted for a late breakfast.  Apparently they enjoyed it just as much as I do every morning, which made my day!

I treated myself to a massage this morning, something I've done less of during racing season, despite the important role it plays in the recovery process.  It felt good to make time for this.  Even now, just a few hours later, my body is evidently quite appreciative.  Today, a rest day, will be concluded with a nap and an easy run in the sunshine this afternoon... and then I'm back into another week of training!

Racing is now on the horizon, so I should have actual race and travel updates for you one of these weeks... 

Another rest day, another update

By rest day number 2, I had run out of things I really wanted to do with myself... Bread had already been made, house cleaned, errands run.  Don't get me wrong, there were plenty of things for me to do, but instead I made muffins...

While I generally love training, I do look forward to rest days because they can be unscheduled and unstructured.  Like many people relish the weekend, I  like a day off once in a while.  Usually I plan something with friends, do errands, clean my house and prepare for the week ahead, and I always make my bread for the week.  But I find it curious that most often my rest days are never as exciting as I expect they will be.  I tell myself I like the down time, like the lack of structure and the break from routine, but usually my day ends feeling incomplete.  Why?  Because in the back of my mind I'm yearning to go for a ski, a hike in the mountains, a short run or at least a little spin on the bike inside.  The truth is, rest days are the hardest part of the week for me because I really do like the routine of waking early, getting out of the house for AM practice, coming home to stretch, eat, take a nap, and then heading out again for another session.  My day is full, and it is active.  The rest time between sessions is usually pretty much all I need to do whatever else it is that needs doing. I've come to realize that no matter how much I look forward to full rest days, they're just never going to be as glorious as I imagine.  I'm lucky that skiing is what I do...

So on my second non-training day, instead of doing paperwork and errands, I did the next closest thing to skiing.  I worked on skis and prepped them for the week.  Skis love a little love, in the form of wax, and so, in anticipation of skiing, I put a few coats on a few pairs...

 

My fast Fischer fleet

My wax box, complete with Swix kick and glide wax, tools, apron, iron, etc...

Some quality time spent with the ski bench.

I haven't been skiing on most of my race skis in training lately, because I've been worried about rocks on the trails.  With pretty good conditions right now and freshly groomed trails, I decided to pull out a few race pairs to train on.  

The training experience feels that much better when you're on well prepared, fast skis.  Warm temps and fast skis enable me to cover much more ground each session than I otherwise would.  That's important, because a fast training pace teaches the body (muscles, heart, lungs) to tolerate fast skiing, preparing a skier that much more for racing.  Plus, by skiing fast, the movement patterns often are much more similar to those at race pace, again teaching the body (this time especially the muscles) how to sustain itself at that speed.  It's important to ingrain the feelings associated with fast skiing, good technique, power, speed, and agility.  So if you want to ski well at race pace, it's important to simulate those feelings (technique, power, etc.) as best you can in training at any speed.

So I'm looking forward to getting back to the trails, on the freshly waxed skis and logging some fast distance skiing.  Stay tuned...

Rest days... and baking

Most people work 9am- 5pm jobs five days/week, but as my friends, family, and neighbors can attest, my "work" schedule is nothing of the sort.  I train roughly twice/day, 6 (but occasionally 5 or 7) days/week, 13 "skier months"/year (1 month=4 weeks), for a total of 52 weeks/year. Like I said, that is an approximation.  That doesn't take into account the atypical weeks, such as the huge training blocks on the glacier in the summer, the "recovery weeks" post-glacier block, or the occasional rest period, such as the one I find myself in presently.

Since I returned home from the World Cups, I entered a training period while the majority of the ski world is in racing mode.  I've had some stuff to figure out.  My body wasn't responding well to training or racing, so it was back to the drawing board.  I've also been experiencing some breathing trouble, cold/exercise induced asthma and/or vocal cord dysfunction, after the cold racing in January, which has persisted and continued to impede training.  Nonetheless, this weekend marked the end of three solid weeks of training in Anchorage, as well as some asthma "field testing" to figure out how to alleviate my breathing problems.  Having made good gains in this short period, now it's time for a little rest.  

My life is ordinarily very scheduled, so it's weird not to be racing right now.  Equally as infrequent are "rest" periods like this.  Right now I'm in both situations- not racing and resting-and to top that off, the weather in Anchorage at the moment is a little odd as well.  While I've been home it has gone from no snow (Chinook), to snow and good skiing, to really cold, to really, really warm (currently in the high 30sF).  The skiing was excellent yesterday, but it's feeling dangerously warm, and the wind is picking up, an ominous sign of the continuation of the vicious cycle of good skiing, bad skiing conditions.  

So for two days I'm in a period of recovery, designed to let me rest up, absorb the training of the past three weeks, and get energized for the next period.  Down time is good, but it's also a little strange.  It leaves me time to do errands, clean my house, take care of chores (like taxes and bills), and go to a movie with friends, but what I look forward to the most is some uninterrupted baking time.  (I know it's not ski-related, but it's the other thing I really like to do.)  This is what I've been up to...

   

Valentine's Day cake, part of the dinner I made for my brother.

Check out the recipe...it's one of the best easy chocolate cakes I've found.

   

                                                    

Today I baked bread...almost all day!  I can easily spend an entire day baking bread, starting the biga and soaker a day or two before, and then baking for at least a whole morning.  Today it was overcast and grey, which made it a easy for me to spend time in the kitchen experimenting with recipes from Peter Reinhart's book Whole Grain Breads.  Someday I'd like to make all the breads in his book, but for now I've found a few I really like and am continually adapting them, incorporating new ingredients.  A link to the recipe I modeled this bread from can be found here.  If your looking for the best 100% whole wheat sandwich bread and, like me, have some down time to make use of, I'd recommend this.  The only problem is that you're likely to resist going back to store-bought bread.  This weekly endeavor is a goal of mine outside of skiing... while at home I don't purchase bread.  I wish I took note of when this began, but it's been at least a year now.

                               

                               

Next on my outside-skiing-goal-list... take better photographs of my creations.  I'm continually inspired by some of the food blogs I read, and so much of what makes them great are the beautiful photographs.  After I'm done skiing I'd really like to go to culinary school, and I think it would be good to document a little of what I've done, despite the amateur nature of my projects.  So here's to a little well-earned rest!  I'll be keeping you posted on the skiing front, as well as the baking front...

Breakthroughs

Sometimes when the big goals elude us, it's hard to see the breakthroughs.  But these little improvements occur daily, and they're significant, because they're getting us closer to that far off dream.  A few times a week I've had some great training sessions.  They pop up seemingly out of nowhere.  Today, in fact, was one of those days, although you couldn't have convinced me of that from the start.  

It was cold, minus 4F.  It was just me and my coach, Erik, out for a classic distance ski.  The snow was bizarre.  I had prepared my skis for what I thought would be great kick- a good hard binder in my kick zone covered with some cold kick wax- and although everything pointed to a winning combination, it wasn't.  The snow was oddly greasy (uncommon for cold temperatures), yet it was draggy and slow too.  Good kick was hard to find, and the glide was also far from superb.  In the first 20 minutes or so I felt tired and lethargic.  My muscles were cold, and I was working hard to ski technically well with less than optimal skis.  For distance, we were skiing hard, and I just wasn't feeling it.

I won't say that my body was in it's best form today.  In fact, it was far from it, but at some point in the ski it came around.  But that wasn't the magical part (although it was part of the equation, as my body often warms up throughout the workout).  The breakthrough was in the form of a new "feeling" I got for my classic striding.  When Erik and I ski together we always work on technique.  We always ski at a good pace, which I like.  We always have a good time- laugh, joke, occasionally race, and talk- and then we stop and discuss technique.  

To be a really good coach you have to be an incredible communicator, as well as observer and interpreter.  Coaching, in my opinion, is one of the most difficult occupations out there.  You work with an athlete on so many levels, and let me tell you, we are complex beings.  My coach is the most approachable, intuitive, communicative person I know, as exemplified today.  Not only did he specifically prescribe this workout to my needs, and within the bigger picture of this week, month, year, etc., he came out with specific technique goals, which brings me to my next point...  Erik is an athlete (formerly an elite racer), and while some will argue this is not necessary, I can't imagine an effective coach who didn't ski.  The beauty of Erik's coaching is that he knows well how it feels to be an athlete, what it feels like to train, to be fatigued, to be race-ready.  He also knows the feel of different techniques, and although technique is evolving, he is moving along with it.

The key part of this began yesterday when Erik jumped into a local race unofficially.  He said he just wanted to go hard, but it also turns out he wanted to test some technique ideas and get a feel for thoughts he'd been mulling over.  As always, he had also been watching tons of video of world cup racers, and so during the race he "played" with these ideas himself. 

So today Erik came to training and somehow that experience played a role in the transformation of my classic technique.  Sometime during the course of our workout this morning, he taught me how to feel something I never have.  This session was not much different than many others lately.  We skied, stopped and talked technique, I tried something new in my skiing, and we bounced ideas around.  What was different was that I came away with a new take on classic striding, something I've done more times than I can count.

That was a breakthrough that left me energized for the rest of the day, but it also made me realize that little breakthroughs happen everyday, even when I'm too tired or sore or frustrated to take notice.  This last stint home has honestly been a roller coaster ride- back into training, feeling good, feeling terrible, up and down.  It is better being home figuring out what my body needs for training than thousands of miles away, prepping to race, anxious that my form is just not there, but being home has been hard in a different way.  It took an occurrence such as the one today to realize that sometimes it's important to put the big picture in the back of my mind.  Periodically it can be more beneficial to focus on the daily steps forward, wherever they many be found... in the subtle refinements of classic striding or even in a beautifully baked loaf of homemade bread.