On my last blog, I told of the good time I was having. Yesterday, not so much, to say the least. For only the second time in 150+ races and 3 1/2 years, I wanted to hang out the snowshoes AND the running shoes.
I am not huge on goals, but my first and foremost priorities in any race are to get my butt home in one piece, and to represent myself and my home area the best I know how, without embarrassing myself. While I did barely manage the first, I don't believe I accomplished the second. I can't say I wasn't warned. My friend Brad e-mailed me and said hard course, be careful. I knew he was concerned.
My first snowshoe race was on a very hard-packed trail, the second had a little more snow, but this one was quite a bit rougher, with very soft snow (everyone was having issues) and with my least favorite thing, tree roots! During my first race in Rib Lake, I was on 25 inch snowshoes, but felt out of control, like I was stepping on them all the time. So when I bought some of Friday I bought the shorter model, which would have been great for those other races, but really sunk in there in Tomahawk. I was also using poles for the first time, and while they can be in the way when you don't need them, they are a godsend when you do, especially going downhill.
It seemed like nearly every step was a chore. One of the things I don't like about trail runs is that you have to be on your toes all the time, vigilant about obstacles. Sure, accidents can happen on the road, especially in bad weather, but most of the time you don't have to constantly worry about injury. I just kept plugging along, but I never even saw another person until nearly 2 miles in. I did pass them without trouble, but then I hit that single-track again (ie the tricky stuff!) and couldn't make up as much time as I would have liked. I didn't even set my watch, I didn't want to know I guess. But then one of the finished racers came down the trail (I think he was seeing how many people were left) and I asked, how much farther? About one minute, right around the corner. Up ahead I could see Brad, Michelle, and Marcia (a lady I usually pass around halfway) all looking worried wondering where the hell I was. Poor, sick Fay (who I rode with) was sitting in the car waiting so I could get my gear out. I yelled out "I'm coming!" and they seemed relieved.
I didn't even get the guts to see my time until last night, I was like 50 minutes in back of Fay who was third place in my age group. A disgrace. Most of the 10k'ers finished ahead of me. A disgrace. I didn't have any business being out there. I told the race official I had just set the course record, for slowest time ever. Then he reminded me of the two ladies I passed. So while I didn't even come in last, it wasn't good. I felt so bad that everyone had to wait. Eventually I got some chili and beer in me and was welcomed into the group with open arms. I don't think they worried so much about injury (the first responders reported no problems), as much as the possibility I got lost.
I started wondering if my fitness level was going to hell. After all my 5K times have been at least 4 minutes off of summer, when I'm really consistent. Then I started thinking of conditions: running in Lake Michigan, below zero windchills, and up big snow bunkers. I also had to remember I owned these snowshoes for about 18 hours. A classic case of being too hard on myself.
After considering giving up all fitness activities for stamp collecting, knitting, or astronomy, I decided I would miss it all too much, especially the friends I've made. I compared their behavior with some "friends" I've had in the past, who would be all embarrassed by this, and leave me to my own devices. That means an awful lot.
So this morning I signed up for a race in Edgar, where I've done trail runs on a similar course. I'm just taking it one at a time. I can't give up snowshoeing now (especially after dropping a chunk of change!) But I will be giddy to be back on the road again.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Sunday, February 3, 2013
Not breaking any records, but having a ball
It's 5 weeks in to 2013, and I already have 5 races in, including some of the most unique I've done. I started the year off with a dash through a little puddle called Lake Michigan. While I was a wee bit bashful compared to some people (I say it's because I know what those Great Lakes tides can do) I did indeed do the 75 yards around the tiki torches into the drink.
I am proud of the many races I've done for charity, but I must say this is the first one I've ever done for a dead gorilla. The Sampson Stomp at the Milwaukee Zoo was a cold one at 10 degrees with like a 20 below windchill, but along the way we were greeted by penguins, elk, llamas, and even a camel (hey, it gets a wee bit nippy in north Africa at night.) For a kid growing up in northern Wisconsin in the 70's, THE trip was to go south to the big city and see the flamboyant Sampson, who pounded on the glass, and liked to throw things. This race has been going on 32 years, with proceeds benefitting the big guy's descendents. Afterwards we toured the zoo (just the thing to do on the coldest day of the year!)
Then another strictly-for-me proposition, the Winter Warrior 5K in southern Brown County. All the money went to the WI Desert Veterans, and it's done in the cold and snow to remind us of the harsh conditions soldiers face everyday. The first half was a run on a snowy golf course (golf courses can be a bitch to run on, that's why many cross-country meets are held there.) Then we hit the bunkers, hill, moguls, whatever you want to call them, 5 in a row. I tend to slow down going downhill (more on that in a minute) but then you lose momentum. Once you got the hang of them, they were pretty fun. They told us at the start just to have fun and stay safe, which was rather liberating, not to have to go all out or worrying about finishing last (I did just fine). At the end we got a dogtag that said "I survived the Winter Warrior 5K. Be a hero, run below zero!" It's in my favorite medal collection.
During this "off-season" I also joined a Zumba class one night a week for 5 weeks, which I can make 10 weeks for another 20 bucks. The first class was interesting, as I had the old "fat girl thinks everyone is watching and laughing at her" syndrome, but it wasn't that way at all. Everybody is busy keeping themselves in line. While I have no problems with the fitness part, I sometimes turn counter- clockwise when everyone is going clockwise. I say it's because my instructor is Australian, and everyone knows tornados and toliets spin the other direction down there! Still, it's fun to shake your booty to some Pitbull, and while I don't want to make a steady diet of it, it's a nice change of pace.
Then there is something I don't enjoy so much: snowshoeing. While some runners with deeper pockets can think Birkenbeiner, the rest have to go with a sport requiring less equipment. It is not for the faint of heart. You can't pull yourself along like on skis, and if your legs naturally turn out like mine, you can easily step on your shoes and lose your balance. However, this turnout is great if you're a ballet dancer (as you can move quickly in any direction.) Most importantly, I have to pick my feet up higher with each step, which can take almost twice the energy of running. So basically doing a 5K on snowshoes is like a 10K on the road. While there are metal cleats on the bottom of your shoes to stop you from careening downhill, I'm still a bit of a wuss and sidestep down the bigger ones.
I made several mistakes the first race, the first being showing up in Rib Lake! Rib Lake is on the Ice Age Trail, right where the last glacier ended a zillion years ago. It left behind some real dandies of those bumpy things. Next, I had on 25 inch snowshoes, which I believe were too big for my short stride. I practically had to jump between steps. Lastly, I didn't have them laced up tightly enough at first. But I'm getting better at that. Still I managed to (barely) stay upright that first race, practically falling at the finish line. After much swearing and declaring I was never doing this again, I had to admit I liked the crazy people that did this sport. But I was not, repeat not, buying snowshoes. Two weeks later I started pricing some when we still didn't have a lot of snow, and could've gotten a pair for half price. I spent my dough and went to run for the vets instead. Then I firmly stated I was only going to the Athens Udder Plunge race to cheer on my buddies, no racing. A few minutes later I had the last pair of loaners in my hand from the same gentleman from Rib Lake. I wanted to do this particular one because all the money went to support the Athens Fair, which is a free fair, and quite a spectacle for a small town. They were quite a bit smaller, and this course was quite flat, so once again I survived it, though the air did turn quite blue with my swearing again. It was the same result. I was 4th from last, with a nice lady from Rhinelander about 10 minutes in back of me, followed by two kids.
This morning I signed up for the Braveheart series, and while I won't earn the coveted hand-carved trophy for completing 10 races, I might just do one or two more, and I will be able to go to the end of the year bash in Cable if I wish in March. I'll either rent 'em or hope for an end-of-year sale for the rest of the seaon. If I do buy, I will get some poles, which should help me feel a little more secure.
But I sure look forward to the rubber meeting the road again!
I am proud of the many races I've done for charity, but I must say this is the first one I've ever done for a dead gorilla. The Sampson Stomp at the Milwaukee Zoo was a cold one at 10 degrees with like a 20 below windchill, but along the way we were greeted by penguins, elk, llamas, and even a camel (hey, it gets a wee bit nippy in north Africa at night.) For a kid growing up in northern Wisconsin in the 70's, THE trip was to go south to the big city and see the flamboyant Sampson, who pounded on the glass, and liked to throw things. This race has been going on 32 years, with proceeds benefitting the big guy's descendents. Afterwards we toured the zoo (just the thing to do on the coldest day of the year!)
Then another strictly-for-me proposition, the Winter Warrior 5K in southern Brown County. All the money went to the WI Desert Veterans, and it's done in the cold and snow to remind us of the harsh conditions soldiers face everyday. The first half was a run on a snowy golf course (golf courses can be a bitch to run on, that's why many cross-country meets are held there.) Then we hit the bunkers, hill, moguls, whatever you want to call them, 5 in a row. I tend to slow down going downhill (more on that in a minute) but then you lose momentum. Once you got the hang of them, they were pretty fun. They told us at the start just to have fun and stay safe, which was rather liberating, not to have to go all out or worrying about finishing last (I did just fine). At the end we got a dogtag that said "I survived the Winter Warrior 5K. Be a hero, run below zero!" It's in my favorite medal collection.
During this "off-season" I also joined a Zumba class one night a week for 5 weeks, which I can make 10 weeks for another 20 bucks. The first class was interesting, as I had the old "fat girl thinks everyone is watching and laughing at her" syndrome, but it wasn't that way at all. Everybody is busy keeping themselves in line. While I have no problems with the fitness part, I sometimes turn counter- clockwise when everyone is going clockwise. I say it's because my instructor is Australian, and everyone knows tornados and toliets spin the other direction down there! Still, it's fun to shake your booty to some Pitbull, and while I don't want to make a steady diet of it, it's a nice change of pace.
Then there is something I don't enjoy so much: snowshoeing. While some runners with deeper pockets can think Birkenbeiner, the rest have to go with a sport requiring less equipment. It is not for the faint of heart. You can't pull yourself along like on skis, and if your legs naturally turn out like mine, you can easily step on your shoes and lose your balance. However, this turnout is great if you're a ballet dancer (as you can move quickly in any direction.) Most importantly, I have to pick my feet up higher with each step, which can take almost twice the energy of running. So basically doing a 5K on snowshoes is like a 10K on the road. While there are metal cleats on the bottom of your shoes to stop you from careening downhill, I'm still a bit of a wuss and sidestep down the bigger ones.
I made several mistakes the first race, the first being showing up in Rib Lake! Rib Lake is on the Ice Age Trail, right where the last glacier ended a zillion years ago. It left behind some real dandies of those bumpy things. Next, I had on 25 inch snowshoes, which I believe were too big for my short stride. I practically had to jump between steps. Lastly, I didn't have them laced up tightly enough at first. But I'm getting better at that. Still I managed to (barely) stay upright that first race, practically falling at the finish line. After much swearing and declaring I was never doing this again, I had to admit I liked the crazy people that did this sport. But I was not, repeat not, buying snowshoes. Two weeks later I started pricing some when we still didn't have a lot of snow, and could've gotten a pair for half price. I spent my dough and went to run for the vets instead. Then I firmly stated I was only going to the Athens Udder Plunge race to cheer on my buddies, no racing. A few minutes later I had the last pair of loaners in my hand from the same gentleman from Rib Lake. I wanted to do this particular one because all the money went to support the Athens Fair, which is a free fair, and quite a spectacle for a small town. They were quite a bit smaller, and this course was quite flat, so once again I survived it, though the air did turn quite blue with my swearing again. It was the same result. I was 4th from last, with a nice lady from Rhinelander about 10 minutes in back of me, followed by two kids.
This morning I signed up for the Braveheart series, and while I won't earn the coveted hand-carved trophy for completing 10 races, I might just do one or two more, and I will be able to go to the end of the year bash in Cable if I wish in March. I'll either rent 'em or hope for an end-of-year sale for the rest of the seaon. If I do buy, I will get some poles, which should help me feel a little more secure.
But I sure look forward to the rubber meeting the road again!
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