Friday, December 11, 2015
The Lure of a Long Lost Birkyness
In February it will be five years since I skied the American Birkebeiner. Hard to believe I am saying this. I still remember clearly the sights and sounds of that day -- and that year. When I left the cabin on that Sunday after I was deeply sore, tired, and happy. Knowing that after 12 months of running, biking, swimming, hiking, and skiing, I had now reached a fitness level that would allow me to live at Birkyness. And I did. For awhile. Until I didn't.
About a week after the race I was back at it. Taking Ezra on fairly long rambles --on rainy days through the neighborhoods of southwest Madison and --on sunny days through the trails of Elver
Park. On a couple of warmer days I put air in the tires and again got used to spinning the wheels. I was feeling good and once again feeling that maybe the Birkebeiner might be worth a second shot.
Then on a nice warm Saturday I bought some new shoes. I remember clearly the salesperson wanting to put me into a larger shoe. I resisted. I had the ones I had trained in with me, just wanted to match sizes, and get back outside. But for some reason I let her talk me into a larger shoe. She felt that I had gotten lucky with this size and that a larger shoe would prevent future problems. So I went with it.
And after spending some time in these larger shoes I got a blister on my big toe, then another on my left pinky toe, and then I started to feel a tightness in my achilles, and then on long runs I would begin to feel a pressing tenderness under my ankle bone and along my foot. Then I tried to adjust my gait a bit -- to flatten out my pronation that went along with the natural placement of my foot.
Slowly my ankle and my foot gained pain. Slowly I got to the point where I could do nothing without pain. Ran slowly -- pain. Walked slowly on uneven trail -- pain. Walked slowly on flat sidewalk -- pain. Biking -- pain. Skiing -- pain. Then finally earlier this fall, after three and half years of unsuccessful physical therapy, I took a step that was followed by a snap and pop.
The result of the MRI was a ruptured tendon and a stress fracture.
Time for surgery. Time for rehab. Time for health.
And today, ten days after a major surgery on my right foot, I am starting to dream again about what a healthy foot might do for my fitness level, and how I might get back to being a bit of an athlete. How I might just back to Birkyness.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Just Keep Running
Beautiful night to hit the hills of Elver yesterday. About 60 degrees, virtually windless, and a mostly sunny run. I was only planning for a 30 minute run, but the good weather and a happy dog got to me. The final clocking was 43 minutes -- which equals somewhere between 4 and 4.5 miles. It feels really good to have my body back to where a 30 minute run is just wetting the appetite.
I am looking forward to the routine of two summers ago -- run on one day and then bike the next. Consistency and single-mindedness. My success in both fitness level and weight loss will come from me staying focused on the workouts.
Tonight my workout is going to take a different twist. I am playing in the student - staff Relay for Life basketball game. I believe I have the distinction of being the oldest player in the game. Should be scary. I used to have some game, but now at the age of 52 the strengths to my game have disappeared. I no longer have a quick first step, or the ability to outwork or out-hustle my opponent, or the ability to explode on any shot.
So just planning to take a couple of stints on the court, hoping to get off a couple of shots ... maybe even make one -- and then let the younger and more flexible younger staff try to finish off the students. Should be great fun.
I am looking forward to the routine of two summers ago -- run on one day and then bike the next. Consistency and single-mindedness. My success in both fitness level and weight loss will come from me staying focused on the workouts.
Tonight my workout is going to take a different twist. I am playing in the student - staff Relay for Life basketball game. I believe I have the distinction of being the oldest player in the game. Should be scary. I used to have some game, but now at the age of 52 the strengths to my game have disappeared. I no longer have a quick first step, or the ability to outwork or out-hustle my opponent, or the ability to explode on any shot.
So just planning to take a couple of stints on the court, hoping to get off a couple of shots ... maybe even make one -- and then let the younger and more flexible younger staff try to finish off the students. Should be great fun.
Saturday, May 5, 2012
I'm Back!
Last spring -- just a couple of months after the Birkie -- I injured myself. Had some problems with my left foot. Plantar fasciitis actually. But I slowly let it heal and then just a few weeks later I hit the trails again. However during the time I was hurt I went and bought a new pair of running shoes. I went to the store with my old ones, the ones that got me through around 450 miles of training. However rather than just putting me in the same shoe, the woman at the store talked me into buying shoes a half size bigger.
After my foot healed things went well for a while -- that is until I ran through Elver Park on a wet morning. About half way through the run I felt a tweak in one of my left toes. No big deal I figured, I simply finished the run without much thought. However when I took off my shoe I noticed a huge red splotch on my socks. Under the sock I found a huge blister -- actually only the remnants of a blisters -- that covered the entire top fourth of my toe. It was ugly; it was painful, and it took me out for about 10 days.
Then after I recovered from that I stuck to the dry pavement for a couple of runs. Eventually however the lure of Elver took me back. And again, running on a damp morning my blister came back ... and then because I babied the toe my shin splints reappeared; a lifetime problem of mine, but one that I hadn't felt for at least a year. These two issues sidelined me for another month.
So as the school year started it was painfully obvious that I had lost much of the fitness level I had worked so hard to attain. Still though, I figured with a good snow season I could ski myself into shape and fight my way through at least half of the Birkie (the Kortelopet they call it). But as all of us know here in the Midwest, our snow season was awful -- only skied three times and I therefore dropped out of the race about three weeks before. A smart move, but a frustrating one just the same.
Well anyway this spring I have been back on the trails. Taking it slow. Staying off wet grass and wet trails. And today I had my best run in over a year.
About six miles in about hour and three minutes. I do believe I am back. I do believe the Birkie is back in my mind for next February.
At least I am keeping my fingers crossed!
After my foot healed things went well for a while -- that is until I ran through Elver Park on a wet morning. About half way through the run I felt a tweak in one of my left toes. No big deal I figured, I simply finished the run without much thought. However when I took off my shoe I noticed a huge red splotch on my socks. Under the sock I found a huge blister -- actually only the remnants of a blisters -- that covered the entire top fourth of my toe. It was ugly; it was painful, and it took me out for about 10 days.
Then after I recovered from that I stuck to the dry pavement for a couple of runs. Eventually however the lure of Elver took me back. And again, running on a damp morning my blister came back ... and then because I babied the toe my shin splints reappeared; a lifetime problem of mine, but one that I hadn't felt for at least a year. These two issues sidelined me for another month.
So as the school year started it was painfully obvious that I had lost much of the fitness level I had worked so hard to attain. Still though, I figured with a good snow season I could ski myself into shape and fight my way through at least half of the Birkie (the Kortelopet they call it). But as all of us know here in the Midwest, our snow season was awful -- only skied three times and I therefore dropped out of the race about three weeks before. A smart move, but a frustrating one just the same.
Well anyway this spring I have been back on the trails. Taking it slow. Staying off wet grass and wet trails. And today I had my best run in over a year.
About six miles in about hour and three minutes. I do believe I am back. I do believe the Birkie is back in my mind for next February.
At least I am keeping my fingers crossed!
Sunday, March 6, 2011
The Power of Support
My initial draw to the Birkie 17 years ago had has much to do with the enthusiasm of the event as it did with trying to ski an incredibly long distance. The throngs of people along the course, the cow bells, and the packed sidewalks of Hayward were all part of the magic.
So today's reflection is not so much about the severity of the Penokee-Genobic divided but is instead about the sporadically placed spectators and volunteers along the course. Their enthusiasm and encouragement are to be applauded.
So today's reflection is not so much about the severity of the Penokee-Genobic divided but is instead about the sporadically placed spectators and volunteers along the course. Their enthusiasm and encouragement are to be applauded.
- At the 4km mark, towards the end of the power line, waits a massive drum line. I'm guessing there were probably 15-20 folks pounding drums, stroking washer boards, shaking cowbells, and chanting rhythmical support.
- The food stations are lined with not only those who offer energy drink, water, bananas, and oranges, but also includes the motivators. Those who laugh with you, push you, and encourage you to get to the next food stop. There are eight food stops total...so having these as strategically placed keeps a skier motivated to get to the next one. Each food stop has their own theme...Bob Marley music, or Jimmy Buffet music, or pulled pork sandwiches (I did not have one)...anything to keep the skiers' minds on something other than pain and fatigue.
- At about the 20km mark is snowmobile corner. Here awaits the drunks and the loudmouths. These folks wait halfway down the most dangerous S-turn on the course. After climbing "Tourette's Hill" the skiers are faced with a fast and icy downhill. The snowmobilers wait to either cheer you or boo you, depending upon your fate. I made it through the curve without falling, so of course I got booed.
- A couple of km's past Hwy OO, the halfway point of the race, sits "Whippoorwill Hill." Several hearty folks hike back into the top of steep hill "whoop"their support. Fun stuff. Veteran Birkie skiers will whoop their own greeting.
- My favorite group of supporters is the 39k zone. Starting at about the 38.5 mark we begin to see signs along the trail announcing that we are entering the 39k zone. As we begin yet another difficult climb we can hear rock 'n roll music in the background. The closer we get it is clear that the Jimmy Hendrix Experience will support us through the zone. They have a campfire. Energy drinks. Protein bars. Even alcohol. Of course, I don't consider that at all appealing.
- Lake Hayward is filled with supporters. They drive their trucks, bring barbecues, crank their own music, shake cow bells, and will us along in our last bit of misery.
- And of course we finish on Main Street. Amazing their nearly seven hours after the Elite Skiers left Telemark Lodge the street is still filled with enthusiastic supporters. No one knew me, yet as I neared the finish they cheered loudly as my name and age were announced. It probably helped that at age 51 I was finishing my first Birkie.
The support all these people offered along the way truly helped the experience. The smiles, the nods, and the high-fives I gave were all as important as the energy I consumed along the way.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Race Day...360 Some Days Later
PREFACE:
Before I begin the actually post I want to briefly discuss the past two weeks. Basically it is an explanation why I have not been noting my progress. On February 12th I skied the Pre-Birkie. It is a 42 km ski race and is a prelude to The American Birkebeiner. Two days before the Pre-Birkie the Governor of Wisconsin proposed a bill that would cut teacher's salaries (and all public sector union workers) by about 8.5%. We are a two educator family, so it obviously mattered to us. The bill also proposed the elimination of collection bargaining rights that have been in place for nearly 60 years. If passed my voice in my own classroom could be severely limited. Therefore instead of spending the last two weeks training and blogging about my year long adventure, I was instead participating in demonstrations and letter writing campaigns trying to save my profession. Although our Governor did affect my training schedule, there was no way I was going to let him take this race away from me.
RACE DAY: WAVE 8
Last night I slept horribly, and today I awoke in a bundle of nerves. I'm not sure if it was taking the past two weeks of training off, or if it was just the fact that I was now facing something that I had been preparing to attack for about a year. The morning began with a cold bus ride from Hayward to Cable. Once at the starting grounds I had to wait for almost three hours before my wave was released to the trail. The nerves never really went away while sitting (and sleeping) in Telemark Lodge.
The first 23 km of the race are brutal. Hill after hill after hill awaits the skiers. Within the first 1.5 km we ski on what is called the "power lines." At this point the course is wide, but the only view afforded the skier is a simple steady climb. It's not pretty. Then after a very short downhill we again begin to move steadily upwards. We reached the high point of the trail quite early in the race, at about 13 km (fire tower hill), yet the next ten are just as difficult, even if they do drop in elevation a bit. Still though by the time I reached Hwy OO, the finish of the Kortelopet, I was feeling pretty good. After the OO food stop the course became quite manageable for the next 8.8 km. Lots of rolling hills, but no severe climbs, and several screaming downhills. I felt strong and I was having fun. Felt it was in the bag. We were definitely losing elevation as we made the long descent into Hayward. And that was encouraging.
But then at about 40 km the course turned upwards again. Skiers everywhere, most of them just stepping up the hills, trying to stay off of each others poles. Very little gliding. People were tired. Then we crossed over Rosie's Field and towards our last food stop. I asked a guy standing next to me if we were done with the hills yet? He smiled and said "first time?" I nodded. He said we have one more--"Bitch Hill." And it started immediately after the food station. It probably isn't even as steep as the other hills, but I am assuming its name comes because we face it after already skiing 44 km.
However after struggling to make it to the top of "Bitch Hill" skiers are provided with an encouraging sight. Below us in the distance sits Hayward and its water tower. And the only way to get there is to go downhill and across Lake Hayward. Still, after skiing this far, the end is probably about 30 minutes away as those last few kilometers are pure hell (at least one with my ability).
And then after skiing across Lake Hayward comes the coolest part of the race, and one of the things that drew me to this race so many years ago. The finish down Hayward's Main Street. Coming across the lake the signs tease the tired skier... 2 km left and then 1 km (1000 meters). And then 500 meters. And then we climb off the lake and turn right onto Main Street. At this point we can see the huge FINISH sign that hangs across the entire street. And fans surrounding the finish area, cheering and offering support. A beautiful sight! An emotional sight!
And so I skated up Main Street...exhausted...ecstatic...miserable...and grinning from ear to ear... I am certain I didn't look very good, but I did not care.
Tonight I can call myself an American Birkebeiner finisher.
Before I begin the actually post I want to briefly discuss the past two weeks. Basically it is an explanation why I have not been noting my progress. On February 12th I skied the Pre-Birkie. It is a 42 km ski race and is a prelude to The American Birkebeiner. Two days before the Pre-Birkie the Governor of Wisconsin proposed a bill that would cut teacher's salaries (and all public sector union workers) by about 8.5%. We are a two educator family, so it obviously mattered to us. The bill also proposed the elimination of collection bargaining rights that have been in place for nearly 60 years. If passed my voice in my own classroom could be severely limited. Therefore instead of spending the last two weeks training and blogging about my year long adventure, I was instead participating in demonstrations and letter writing campaigns trying to save my profession. Although our Governor did affect my training schedule, there was no way I was going to let him take this race away from me.
 |
| One of 21 waves...over 8,700 skiers this year. |
RACE DAY: WAVE 8
Last night I slept horribly, and today I awoke in a bundle of nerves. I'm not sure if it was taking the past two weeks of training off, or if it was just the fact that I was now facing something that I had been preparing to attack for about a year. The morning began with a cold bus ride from Hayward to Cable. Once at the starting grounds I had to wait for almost three hours before my wave was released to the trail. The nerves never really went away while sitting (and sleeping) in Telemark Lodge.
The first 23 km of the race are brutal. Hill after hill after hill awaits the skiers. Within the first 1.5 km we ski on what is called the "power lines." At this point the course is wide, but the only view afforded the skier is a simple steady climb. It's not pretty. Then after a very short downhill we again begin to move steadily upwards. We reached the high point of the trail quite early in the race, at about 13 km (fire tower hill), yet the next ten are just as difficult, even if they do drop in elevation a bit. Still though by the time I reached Hwy OO, the finish of the Kortelopet, I was feeling pretty good. After the OO food stop the course became quite manageable for the next 8.8 km. Lots of rolling hills, but no severe climbs, and several screaming downhills. I felt strong and I was having fun. Felt it was in the bag. We were definitely losing elevation as we made the long descent into Hayward. And that was encouraging.
But then at about 40 km the course turned upwards again. Skiers everywhere, most of them just stepping up the hills, trying to stay off of each others poles. Very little gliding. People were tired. Then we crossed over Rosie's Field and towards our last food stop. I asked a guy standing next to me if we were done with the hills yet? He smiled and said "first time?" I nodded. He said we have one more--"Bitch Hill." And it started immediately after the food station. It probably isn't even as steep as the other hills, but I am assuming its name comes because we face it after already skiing 44 km.
However after struggling to make it to the top of "Bitch Hill" skiers are provided with an encouraging sight. Below us in the distance sits Hayward and its water tower. And the only way to get there is to go downhill and across Lake Hayward. Still, after skiing this far, the end is probably about 30 minutes away as those last few kilometers are pure hell (at least one with my ability).
 |
| Taken yesterday: the finish line looking back down Main Street. |
And then after skiing across Lake Hayward comes the coolest part of the race, and one of the things that drew me to this race so many years ago. The finish down Hayward's Main Street. Coming across the lake the signs tease the tired skier... 2 km left and then 1 km (1000 meters). And then 500 meters. And then we climb off the lake and turn right onto Main Street. At this point we can see the huge FINISH sign that hangs across the entire street. And fans surrounding the finish area, cheering and offering support. A beautiful sight! An emotional sight!
And so I skated up Main Street...exhausted...ecstatic...miserable...and grinning from ear to ear... I am certain I didn't look very good, but I did not care.
Tonight I can call myself an American Birkebeiner finisher.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Bonking...a Bit Early!
Today I skied my longest stint of the season. It was difficult. As I write this I am questioning my sanity. I am truly concerned that I am not going to be able to complete this race. By the time I finished I was completely tanked. I had little energy, a stomach ache, and could go no further. One might even call it a bonk.
For the day I made 31 kilometers...a good amount...but the Birkie is 50 kilometers and the terrain, especially the first half, is much more challenging than Mirror Lake. So my doubts creep in.
Mirror Lake State Park is a great track. Probably my favorite place to ski in the area. There are enough uphills to challenge the legs and the heart, and a couple of screaming downhills. The trails meander through a decent size forest--with a good mix between hardwoods and pines. And it is possible to ski over 14 miles of trails while only repeating .4 of a mile. Fun stuff. Good training grounds. Lots of varied scenery is good medicine for the tired skier.
The Birkebeiner is three weeks from today. Next weekend is the Pre-Birkie--a 42 km race going uphill from Hayward Lake-- back to and around OO. With these two races coming up I knew that I needed to begin pushing harder...pushing for more distance. I knew that my current level of training was not enough. Still, I really didn't expect to have this much trouble today. I knew I would tire, but not to the level that I did.
Reflecting upon the ski raises a couple of flags for me. First of all it appears as though I only drank about 8 oz of fluids. Not very smart. I also know that my food intake before the ski was not nearly as thought out as it should have been and that I also chose not to eat an energy bar during the training, even though I knew I was losing my strength. Again, not very smart.
The moral of the story is that next weekend is all about diet and toughness. All week I will need to monitor my food and drink. Stay away from the sweets; eat carbs, protein; drink to stay hydrated. Then I will eat a good spaghetti dinner the night before and drink enough fluid and electrolytes during the ski. If I can physically prepare my body then I can put my body in a situation where my mind can carry me through.
I know next weekend is crucial. Not just for confidence, but also for building momentum. If I can complete 42 km's next Saturday I am certain that I will be able to grind out 50 km on February 26th. Elevation gain be damned.
For the day I made 31 kilometers...a good amount...but the Birkie is 50 kilometers and the terrain, especially the first half, is much more challenging than Mirror Lake. So my doubts creep in.
Mirror Lake State Park is a great track. Probably my favorite place to ski in the area. There are enough uphills to challenge the legs and the heart, and a couple of screaming downhills. The trails meander through a decent size forest--with a good mix between hardwoods and pines. And it is possible to ski over 14 miles of trails while only repeating .4 of a mile. Fun stuff. Good training grounds. Lots of varied scenery is good medicine for the tired skier.
The Birkebeiner is three weeks from today. Next weekend is the Pre-Birkie--a 42 km race going uphill from Hayward Lake-- back to and around OO. With these two races coming up I knew that I needed to begin pushing harder...pushing for more distance. I knew that my current level of training was not enough. Still, I really didn't expect to have this much trouble today. I knew I would tire, but not to the level that I did.
Reflecting upon the ski raises a couple of flags for me. First of all it appears as though I only drank about 8 oz of fluids. Not very smart. I also know that my food intake before the ski was not nearly as thought out as it should have been and that I also chose not to eat an energy bar during the training, even though I knew I was losing my strength. Again, not very smart.
The moral of the story is that next weekend is all about diet and toughness. All week I will need to monitor my food and drink. Stay away from the sweets; eat carbs, protein; drink to stay hydrated. Then I will eat a good spaghetti dinner the night before and drink enough fluid and electrolytes during the ski. If I can physically prepare my body then I can put my body in a situation where my mind can carry me through.
I know next weekend is crucial. Not just for confidence, but also for building momentum. If I can complete 42 km's next Saturday I am certain that I will be able to grind out 50 km on February 26th. Elevation gain be damned.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Snowday...
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| Sidewalk view of the final snow depth. Notice the sun coming out at 11:00. So did the groundhog see his shadow today? |
Sometimes you just gotta throw the training schedule away and a have a little fun. Kinda of like today.
Monday afternoon through Tuesday morning brought about six inches of snow. Then last night after a short lull, Madison got blasted with an additional foot. All total we received 18.7 in about 48 hours. Definitely a fabulous old-time blizzard.
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| Queen or King of the Hill? |
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| Ezra getting funky! Running her snout through the deep snow. |
Towards the end of the shoveling my neighbor Bob stepped in with his snow blower. Earlier today Allen plowed his driveway and sidewalk, so being the retired Lutheran pastor that he is, he figured he needed to help me with my sidewalk... and so because Bob helped me I helped Deb, and because I helped Deb, Deb and I helped Mike, and then just because I went further around the cul-de-sac and helped my neighbor Kevin finish his driveway. A great work out and an opportunity to socialize with the neighbors.
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| Katie and Chloe...chillin' |
Nothing like a little weather event to bring the neighborhood together.
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