Observations of Six + Months of Training

After six months of training, and with less than six months to go before the Birkie, it is time to reflect upon this long journey.

• Training seldom goes as planned: whether a pulled hamstring, an innocent bike crash, or a five-day flu bug in the middle of August, the training schedule has been anything but seamless.

• Gradual progress is real: During my first run, way back in March, I struggled my way though 2.1 miles...walking more than I ran. Today I was out for an hour and twenty three minutes, fought my way up several killer hills, and never lost my stride.

• Ezra is a top-notch running companion: although she eliminates too much, although she sometimes drags a bit going up hills, and although she is too easily destracted by the rabbits and turkeys, this dog is always up for a run. Her perky ears, her wagging tail, and a relentless spirit always push my motivation and desire.

• Less than six months to go and my trepidation for the Birkie remains high. I am in terrific shape, stronger than I have felt since the late 90's, and yet still the 50 km race seems incredibly daunting.

• Running is a great addiction!

• My strength training must improve: I do lift weights, but I must improve my consistency. Push-ups, dumb-bell work, planks, and other core work are all going to help get me over the difficult hills on the Birkie trails.

Heat, Humidity, and Distance

Like much of the country, Wisconsin is right smack in the middle of a heat wave. Today the predictions have us reaching at least 92 with a heat index upwards of 105. Too hot to do much of anything, except maybe a soak in the pool.

But when I started this training I vowed to not let weather discourage me. In the past I have always been a fair-weather athlete, and living in Wisconsin --and its variety of cold, snow, ice, rain, and heat-- I always had plenty of excuses to avoid physical activity. So today I arose early and was in Elver Park before 6:00 am. No excuses!

The run started slowly as I felt sluggish and sticky. By the time I hit the woods and the shade of Elver I was feeling a little better. I followed my usual six mile route--six hills and very little concrete--always a pleasant run. Ezra was also handling the heat well and was specifically enjoying running her snout through the dew-filled grass. Knowing that the rest of the day would find me avoiding the heat I decided to push the envelope a bit. Since I have been wanting to increase my distance, and since I was feeling pretty strong and fresh, I decided to take the long way home.

With the dog still looking fresh and happy I took the challenge. Instead of turning over towards my neighborhood streets I decided to head back down the hill one more time, cross Gammon Road, and make my way home through Greentree Park. I knew this detour would add about two miles to the run. As I left the shade of Elver and hit the sunny pavement of Greentree I suddenly knew that it was as hot as advertised. Yet still I stayed focused on my breathing and my stride.

I could tell Ezra was hot and thirsty, yet still the bounce in her step kept me motivated. If she could handle eight miles, and if she could fight through her thirst and this heat, certainly I could. And so, slowly and methodically Ezra and I made our way home--completing eight miles in one hour and 11 minutes.

Confirmation Letter: I'm In

I don't know whether to be scared, or excited, but it is now official and there is no looking back. The American Birkebeiner association has my money and I have my wave placement.

The postcard tells me I am assigned to Wave 8.

This means that an estimated 6,000 skiers will take off before me. Together those 6,000 skiers will chop, grind, and destroy any good snow in front of me...but it also means that only about 1,000 skiers will start behind me. The pessimist in me says that only about 1,000 skiers need to pass me in order for me to finish last (my greatest fear), and the optimist says I will have a very good chance of passing more people than pass me and leading towards a possible top 5800 finish.

The Birkebeiner: An American Adventure?

Last week I came across a National Geographic Adventure Magazine that I bought in the spring of 2009. I assume I bought it because it lists the top 50 American Adventures. First on the list is biking the Continental Divide Trail, next up is kayaking across Yellowstone Lake to the Thorofare region, then comes rowing down the Grand Canyon, and climbing Mount Ranier. Adventure after enticing adventure is described. Makes for a nice life list ... especially if one is young and fit. Surprisingly, #14 on the list says "Ski the Birkebeiner." Although I have never really considered my goal to ski the Birkie as an adventure, apparently the editors of this magazine disagree:

"When 7,000 cross-country skiers convene at the start of the Birkie, the largest, most vaunted ski race in the country, it's a maelstrom of adrenaline, camaraderie, knit caps, and Northwoods spectacle. Rank amateurs go toe to toe with world's elite to gun for a personal best or a piece of the $20,000 purse. The 50K course is gorgeous anytime, but the race is worth planning your life around."

As I began training for the race I looked at the whole process as something more than just a future ski race. My goal was to use the training to prepare myself for the rest of my life and my future adventures. The words "the race is worth planning your life around" spoke to me and are exactly why I am putting my body through a 12 month "rehabilitation process."

Since undergoing this assault on my body I have come to realize that all of my runs, my bike rides, my swims, my hikes, and even my walks with the dog are all subtly preparing my for a trip down into the Grand Canyon, or to the top of Half Dome, or maybe even to a long paddle in and around Prince William Sound.

Besides the almost daily specific training runs and rides, I have also spent several days simply playing. My wife and I spent a morning mountain biking through the Chequamegan National Forest. I kayaked the Turtle River, hiked in the Porcupine Mountains, and biked through the trails of the Northern Highland-American Legion Forest. At home, nearly everyday, instead of driving, I am biking to the pool, or the fish market, or the movies. For much of the summer I have put my car away and instead am trying to use my bicycle to run simple errands.

When I started this adventure my dream felt big, maybe even a bit undoable; but now, over 500 miles later I am starting to understand the power of birkyness.

Birkyness: Game On

I must confess, as June came to end I was starting to doubt my ability to complete the Birkie. Although I had worked myself into decent shape, skiing 50 kilometers seemed a bit of a stretch for a soft, old guy. School work, child care, poor weather, and an overall lack of endurance had all appeared to catch up on me. But I wasn't yet ready to give up.

I knew that July was an important month in my quest for birkyness. With summer vacation approaching the halfway point, July appeared to be a make it or break it month.

Since March I have tracked every mile I have run, biked, or hiked. It was fun to write down and inspiring to add up, but still, nowhere was I seeing a five hour ski in my future...even if it was still eight months away. Slowly I started committing to longer runs, to more challenging bike rides. I honored my rest days, but began to push harder in my workouts.

As I headed into the last week of July I added up the miles. I knew I had stayed diligent, and was feeling quite strong, still I was surprised at the distances my math revealed. On Friday I went for an 18 mile bike ride...bringing me to 203 miles for the month. On Saturday morning, the last day of July, I went on a four mile run, pushing my monthly total to 62.4 miles. Never before had I completed this many miles. Never before in my adult life have I felt this strong and this fit.

I am so confident in fact that last week I sent in my $80 (nonrefundable) registration fee.

The birkie is on...

Ode to the Dairy Farmer

The climate, soil, and geography combine to make Dane County home to some of the most fertile farm land in the country. A tour through the surrounding country roads finds dairy farms dispersed throughout the valleys. Although much of the original farm land surrounding Madison has been eaten up by the developers, the lasting result of these old farms is an abundance of well-paved county roads. Because of the influence of an active biking community, many of these old country roads have added bicycle lanes, far from the busy streets of Madison. Thus bicycle touring is assessable to most Dane County residents. From my house I can be away from city traffic and cruising the country roads within minutes.

Yesterday I left early in the morning hoping to finish my longest ride of the year. The loop is about 28 miles. I knew the mileage wouldn't be a problem as I have been riding 22 miles consistently, but the numerous hills would be a challenge.

The climbs begin before I even leave Madison. Just west of home is the Channel 3 hill. It runs up the backside of Elver Park and quickly throws bikers out to the western farmlands of Dane County. After getting around Elver the climbs and descents stack up one after the other. During the climbs I average about seven miles per hour, and during the downhills I sometimes reach speeds over 30 mph. It's misery, and then its ecstasy.

About four climbs and six miles later, I find myself at the top of a wide ridge. Looking west from the ridge are the rolling hills of Dane County and the eastern edge of the Driftless Area. It's stunning. And it sits right out my backdoor. The Driftless Area is the remnants of the last ice age. When the glaciers retreated, southwestern Wisconsin was left littered with woods, water, and rolling hills.

After a short ride along the ridge the road drops down towards the historic Riley Tavern. Here I am able to enjoy the flats for several miles, and to regather some strength before the climb to Mt. Horeb. Surprisingly the climb is very doable. Although at times I can feel the lactic acid build-up in my quads, I am still able to fight to the top of the hills, and to a visual sighting of the Mt. Horeb water tower. My return to Madison takes a slightly different route, although no less hilly.

When I return to Madison and get off my bike I am whipped. The legs are wobbly and my energy is zapped. Still I feel good. Today's ride totaled 28.3 miles, 1.7 miles less than the Birkie. This thought puts things into perspective. I am getting stronger, feeling more fit, and am proud of how consistent I have remained.

Yet the obvious truth remains: biking 28 miles is not nearly as difficult as skiing 30 miles. Today took two hours, and my February ski will take close to five. Today 50 km feels a long way off. And yet still so enticing. I just have to believe that in seven months I will be ready.

Gradual progress.

Set Back? At Least I Think it Was!

Trying to stay on a set routine, sort of a scheduled work out, is challenging. Too often, life just gets in the way. After a sketchy June, July had started well for me. Through the first five days I logged 8.5 miles on the trails, pedaled over 50 miles on the highways, and even swam about 500 yards. Tuesday (the 6th) was a scheduled rest day. I was feeling good, healthy, strong. I honored the rest day knowing I was ready to pick up the distance and stay out for as long as possible. Starting Wednesday my workouts were going to increase in duration and intensity.

Because rain was in the forecast, I knew squeezing a dry workout in was going to be difficult. Didn't matter. At some point I was going to hit the streets. However during one storm I decided to stretch the muscles and lift a few dumbbells. Nothing big. Just trying to maintain strength and to somehow find flexibility in this crickety body. After stretching I completed two sets of lunges and still felt strong. Casually I tried a traditional squat. Instant pain shuttered up the back of both legs. My hamstring appeared to fold up into my glut. It felt awful. I was certain it was devastating.

I immediately sat on the couch. My daughter brought me an ice pack. I iced it and massaged it, and then slowly started putting weight on it. Within an hour I did some slow, mindful stretches. I was beginning to feel as if it wasn't as bad as I thought. Later in the day I had to put some local basketball players through a workout. Skills and drills work! Every week I am demonstrating hard and digging low. Today I was worried my legs might not hold. I took a hot bath, massaged the legs a bit more, and walked gingerly around the gym. The hamstrings held.

After dinner I took my daughter to the pool, avoided the deep end, and spent about an hour walking around in the shallows. Frolicking in the pool appeared to be good for the hamies. I then spent the rest of the week babying my legs and avoiding anything athletic. Then on Friday I took the dog around the neighborhood (the big loop), and biked back and forth to the pool with Chloe (twice). By the end of the day my legs felt solid.

Today I ran through the hills of Elver Park...ran for an over an hour. I felt strong and healthy. And besides having no problem with my hamstrings, for the first time in over a month...my knees aren't sore.

Makes one wonder if rest (and injury) can make one stronger!