Nordork

Sundays are a great time to blog. There's no hurry and I am not attempting the difficult stealthy blog during work. And it's a good time to reflect on the week and see what got done. I haven't written much about my workouts and to be honest those are mostly a mystery, even to me. You see, I don't have a log or a plan. I love to read about Olga and her annual log and even more impressive is Anton Krupicka and his 5000 mile 2007 (what?). I read his blog for shear shame's sake because everyone of his training runs is faster than I could ever complete in competition. And don't discount shame as a good motivator to get out there and train. I use the entire arsenal of emotions to motivate.

But I digress. Monday was an early morning run on the treadmill while watching our local (not Jackson) Today show. I have grown to love those early morning kids and their stories about the mall walking, getting your blood pressure checked and the local can-a-thon. So I probably put in 45 minutes at 10-8 minute per mile pace. Tuesday, I did a skate up Cache (more on that later). Three lung busting miles up followed by three gleeful miles down with my new adopted stray, Sophie whose nickname is Scoobie's sister in pursuit. She's a lumbering thing but does her best to keep up. Wednesday saw an after work run on the treadmill with some mile repeats on the hill option (bout an hour) watching a fascinating medical show on lymphoedema (love medical mysteries) and I followed by alternating push ups and crunches on the Bosu until I couldn't roll over anymore. Thursday was nite skating at the only flat place in Jackson, the high school track. Great option for getting some exercise, getting your dog out and having some social time with others. The weather was less than desirable with needle-like snow to the eyeballs but everyone out was in great spirits. Friday was rest day.

Saturday I had great intentions of a long skate (20 miles maybe) in the park (GTNP)which is about 30 minutes from my house. I saw a friend at the start of the supposed groomed section of the road but she said they didn't groom which is disaster for skating. So I slogged through 5 inches of powder for a little over 2 miles and then turned around. I got Scoobie's sister out on the skijoring leash and she had some fun. She tires easily and that's what I like about her.

Today is a 10k skate race at the Jackson Hole Nordic Center. The race starts at 11, love late starts. Now, if you have never nordic skied, I will fill you in on a few of the finer points of it (IMO). First, it's hard, really, really hard. The technique is hard, like chess, seems that you never really get it, there's always fine tuning and adjustments to do. When you think you got it, they change it. The potential to fall is high (esp. me), one pole in between your skis and you're down. When you see someone good do it, it's beautiful. When you see someone new to the sport do it, you want turn away. The second hard part about it is you reach your lactic threshold in about the first 14 seconds of starting and you stay there (okay, I stay there). It's the mouth opened, snot hanging, chin whiskers frosty (ladies be aware of this coming into the finish line photo or else you will look like your Greek grandmother in snowstorm) exhaustion that allows none of your body parts to rest at any point. I equated the fatigue to swimming, you can't not use your arms or legs. They say to "rest on the downhills" and so okay I pose this to you. When you are trying to find a resting position, is it ever a squat?

I love reading about people saying how graceful and simpatico it is when you are out there skating and I think "Am I doing it all wrong?". Me, I am making deals with the devil out there. I am thinking that if I go a little further, I can have one more beer at dinner. Not to mention that the perfect wax job on skate ski is only accomplished by the brightest scientist-type people dedicated to the glide. Get your wax wrong and you, my friend, are on velcro for the day. BUT with that said, it has to be one of the perfect counter-sport to running. It keeps up the aerobic level and let's your poor legs rest from the pounding running gives us (minus the shins). AND there are times when I have met with nirvana during skates. It usually happens in the spring with an amazing phenomenon called crust cruising. In the Spring, the snow melts during the day and freezes at nite, so if you head out in the morning, you can ski on top of the snow and it's great. You can get going about 15 miles an hour and feel like you are flying. That's effortless and in tuned.

So....back from the race. It wasn't a 10k, but a 15k. You could do an optional 7.5k but what's the point? I have a rule that my race time has to be longer than the travel time, so I opted for the 15k, two loops. As always with any Jackson race, there was at least one olympian there, this time Erich Wilbrecht, a wicked nice guy who was in the 92 Olympics in biathalon. I looked over the girls there and seeing they were all in racing suits and I was wearing my normal loose fitting, mismatched, entirely overdressed uniform, I knew exactly where I was going to fall in the mix. I hung back with Heinz Walter, a 70 year old guy who regularly kicks my ass in nordic.

The first lap was good but I felt fatigued. The track was in good shape. I hit the moraines (hills) and did fairly well getting up them, counting my strides and trying to ignore the lactic acid build-up in both my legs and my arms. No sign of Heinz sneaking up on me like he does, he's got a hell of finishing kick for someone collecting Social Security. I have never been an alpine skier (such a good secret living in Jackson) so my downhill ability is probably at the level of a 4 year old with strap-on clown skis. I bleed all my speed trying not to fall possibly taking some guy with me. The guy behind me was skiing without poles (extra credit) and I could only get some distance from him on the uphill but he passed me starting the second lap and I never saw him again. I tried to not make that the crushing ego blow that it could have been. It's kinda like getting passed by the 8 year old in the local 10k. First lap - 31:10.

I was a bit worried about the second lap seeing the first one drained me. I started out trying to smooth things out and just take my time. After "no-poles" passed me, I was alone (and possibly in last place, another point to ignore). So I just worked on form and got through the moraines in better shape. The stride counting became a bit louder to overwhelm the sound of blood flood in my head, tasting pennies. But I came up and over the last hill, Little Thunder and was done. No idea of the second lap time but i would be pleased with something around 36 mintes.

The BMTis February 2nd in Sun Valley. Last year, I improved my time so I think I will move up a wave. That race is 32k and that's a bit daunting seeing today's race was 15k and whipped me, but isn't that always the case? You get humbled one day and do better than you think the next. Glad I did the local race, it is a beautiful blue bird day, warm in the sun and everyone is smiling.

Now it's time to walk Scoobie's sister (real name Sophie) and then there might be some quality couch time in my future, something I live for.

White as snow

Now that summer is over, I decided to start a blog. Really, summer in the Tetons is over on July 5th but I had things to do. In my blog, I will offer nothing important or earth shattering so tune out now if you are looking for enlightenment because the best you will get here is a good fart joke. But whenever I run, I have good thoughts, some maybe even good enough to write down.

You see, every morning, I check other people's blogs. They are people I have met at races and their friends. All about running, mostly aboutultrarunning but also about their lives. Blogs are the unnaughty voyeurism of our time and I think that's cool.

So now, a few things about me. I'm a runner. I get to add ultrarunner as I just did my first 100, GT100 right in my own backyard . I am a stickler about monikers but only for myself, call yourself whatever you want. I had done 50 milers and 50ks for about the last year but it wasn't until I did a 100 that I let myself order Ultrarunning Magazine (until then I was relegated to Trailrunner) (another side note: I am looking for some past UR 07 issues if anyone has them). I run all year, mix in some skate skiing, swimming and road biking (but not really on the road riding, I really should clarify-I have a rode bike). I do most of my running solo and I try to make it to the most amazing places along the way, which my area has an inexhaustible supply of. Along the way, I usually get myself into some sort of scrape or two, hence the blog.

Also, I am incredibly honest, in that cringey embarrassing sort of way. I am forever re-thinking a conversation to see the errors of my way. No way to take it back (I do a good bit of apologizing because I am woman and should know better) but it was probably true anyways. Wish I had another ounce of editing power though.

So you got it - I am an honest farty runner. Oh, I forgot to talk about what I do. I am a CPA, dork in every way and proud of it. I don't dwell a lot on work in conversation or writing. I am not sure I believe those people that say "I would rather be working" and better yet, "I love coming to work everyday". I bet the boss is always within earshot when that crap flies out of their mouth along with the flying monkeys. That's not to say I don't enjoy the challenge of my job, but I am lazy by nature, the hours during tax season are daunting and really when you think about it, work takes away from me playing outside. I would rather live like the euros who stress a steady supply of food, fun, friends, family and 8 weeks vacation.

So I wanted to start my blog off with some amazing experience; something worthy of a first post. Alas, I have nothing. You see, adventures take energy and enthusiasm, both of which are lacking in my arsenal during these down months. And I let that be. I try to find no harsh judgement in my 8 hours of Project Runway repeats on Sunday afternoon, curtains closed, phone on silence, prone on the couch. I go to work on Monday and nod my head in agreement when the others talk about doing absolutely nothing over the weekend.

That being said, that was Sunday we were talking about. On Saturday, I went for a hike in GTNP (Grand Teton Natl Park) with my friend, Keith. The hike was over 18 miles and we wondered if we would make it to the lake before our self induced turnaround time. We had to drive to the park (15 minutes from Keith's house on the Elk Refuge), park where the road is closed for the season, then bike about 3 miles to the Jenny Lake and finally start our hike. All in reverse on the way back before the 5:30p darkness. We got to the park around 8:30a which we figured would be the earliest you want to start the bike in November.
Conversation was flowing; Keith is a renaissance man, forever learning and finding new interests (too much work for me). And it seems that he has a bit of a twisted side and I found kinship in that. We were in deep snow towards the end, 12-18 inches, as we climbed. Our plan (okay this is starting to sound like an adventure) was to dip in Lake Solitude with we got there. So for the last mile, I had been mulling over the prospect of getting naked in front of Keith.

A sidebar here: I always make a joke to people that stay at my house that eventually, through no intention on my part, they will see me naked. I have lived alone most of the last 20 years or so and I sometimes forget to close doors or to go in another room to change. But this was different, it wasn't the cloaked in slinky darkness with some nice back lighting as I slip into a hot tub like for the latest Ludacris video. It was stark white snow (matching my overall anti-tan contrasted only by the dark stubble on my unshaven legs) and it was a bright sunny day. The only thing I could hope is for Keith to develop snow blindness.

Also, there's no good way to get out of a jog bra, unless you're Olga. There's some twisting, a little turning, the wretched bend over and finally when you have it up around your throat and the oxygen level is so low you are seeing spots, it might come off. I won't even touch the pants/shoe combo because I am always that yahoo who thinks that I can take my pants off without taking my shoes off. Do you know these people? I'm one of them, forever hopping around, bound at the ankles, before taking a sudden gasp inducing fall.

And it's not that I have personal feelings for Keith, he's a friend with a wonderful girlfriend that lets him go on outings with someone like me. It's just he's a guy; a member of the opposite team and he could tell others what he saw.

But it was a Festivus miracle!! We got to the lake (3 minutes before turnaround time) and found it frozen over. I faked disappointment and took credit for wanting to go in "totally didn't think it would be frozen". So we took pictures and started back. The return trip was quicker but more monotonous. I thought how much faster it would be if we were running (isn't that what all runners think on hikes?), but Keith has bum knees, so we walked.

We got to Jenny Lake where we had left our bikes and suddenly we were challenging each other in that 7 year old way to go swimming in Jenny. It goes like this:
"love to get in there"
"Yeah, I don't need much encouragement"
"Don't make me do it"
"I'll do it if you do it"
"Let's do it"

What??
Idiot!
You just
escaped the prospect of full frontal nudity above treeline in broad daylight only to agree to it again. Unbelievable. But at least we had some stumps to sit instead of an open snowfield. Everything came off, I eased into a comfy 58 degree water which sucked the oxygen from my lungs and set me on a nice course to hyperventilation. Keith took the direct route and dove in but I didn't want to get too far from my stump. We got out, highfived and got our bikes. It was cold and dark with freezing rain on the way back to the car, but all worth it. Bonus, the toenail that I had been nursing since the race popped off in the cold water. I saved it for some voodoo earrings I want make when the other nail comes off. Twisted, I know.