Should your roll-on keep you dry?

Although my training has not been going the way I planned it, I still managed to endure my longest ever treadmill run yesterday - a half marathon. I didn't break any records, but to finish inside 1h55m is not bad for my standard.

There was an Austin Powers movie on the screen in front of me, which helped me forget about the run for a while. In the end, though, I had to stop watching because the screen is so high on the wall that my neck got stiff from watching. After that I could only stare at the dashboard in front of me. And at the mirror.

After about two miles, the fat guy in the mirror was soaking sweat. In fact, my sweat was splashing in all directions, so the two treadmills on either side of me were just as wet as mine was. Interestingly, they were the only treadmills in the gym that were not being used.  But anyway, seeing myself and my nearest environment so wet, I started thinking about all the deodorant-ads we see on TV and in other media. I accept that many of them have powerful enough smell to hide the body odor caused by sweat. They may also be able to somehow affect the bacterial growth and bacterial breakdown which causes the body odor, but what I don't understand is how anyone can say that the roll-on keeps you dry.

Being a big-time sweater, I have throughout my 43 years tried countless different types and makes of deodorants/anti perspirants/roll-ons and what ever else they may call these products. Not once have I come across any such thing that really managed to keep me from sweating. But as I watched my own wet and somewhat sorry self in the mirror, I realized that I should be thankful that I have never found a roll-on which lived up to what they promised in the ads. Sweating is the body's way to regulate its temperature,   otherwise you would be suffering from hyperthermia. Sweating is a sign of health.

So, as I was jogging the last mile on the treadmill, I reached the conclusion that from now on, I will never buy an anti perspirant that is claimed to keep me dry.  You know, they might just as well say "this product paralyzes your sweat glands, making you susceptible to hyperthermia and consequent breakdown in health and possible death."

Treadmill running is so much easier when you've got something important to think about.

Positive self-talk - negative split

A few days ago I participated in a 30 km cross country ski race, probably one of the last ski races this season. It was originally scheduled to be just one 30 km loop, but due to bad weather the loop was shortened to 7,5 km, which we skied four times.

As I said, the weather was bad. Heavy winds blew the snow in our faces, the visibility was almost zero, my nose and fingers were almost frozen. What was worse, still, was that the blowing snow quickly filled the tracks, so they more or less disappeared. Luckily we could follow some orange sticks around the course, otherwise a lot of people would have got lost.

I was not excited at all about skiing in these conditions, but the organizers decided that the shortened track was safe enough for the race to go ahead. My brain was full of negative thoughts already before the start, and they only got worse after the race got under way. I was cold and miserable, tired and stiff right from the beginning, and just downright bored. I did not enjoy this occasion for one second; I really did not want to be there at all.

The thing about skiing many small loops instead of one big one is that, when things are going wrong, you are tempted to quit the race every time you pass the finish area. I only just managed to force myself to continue after the first loop, and as I approached the finish of the second one I had more or less decided to call it a day. Then, however, I remembered that there was a club competition going on. The club that accumulated the most kilometers (i.e. the combined distances skied by all the club-members) would win. So if I should quit, my club would loose 30 km. And despite all the self-pity I was feeling, I just couldn’t let my club down.

I continued. Reluctantly at first but then I started this little conversation with myself. I basically decided that since I couldn’t quit the race, I would ski the remaining 15 km the best I could.  It was time to try some positive self-talk. Step one was to force myself to smile and say “money in the bank, babe – money in the bank” over and over again. I just said it silently, mind you, only for myself to hear, but it worked. I started feeling a little bit better.  Other things like “I’m a polar bear, I was made for racing in conditions like this” and “lousy conditions may break others, but they make me stronger” may sound silly when you’re sitting in the comfort of your living room, but out there in the storm, it worked wonders. I felt the energy flowing through my body. I started passing people, which again gave me even more boost and I realized that there was still a lot of energy in the tank; I could still go faster.  When I finished I was so pumped up that I wished the race was 50 km instead of 30!

Although I usually don’t bother studying results lists too hard after my races, I couldn’t help but have a look this time. The intermediate times show that I had a negative split, i.e., I skied the last 15 km way faster than the first 15 km. Cross country skiing is – like other sports – very physical, but we should not underestimate the importance of what goes on inside our heads during training and racing.

My club didn’t even come close to winning the club competition. My 30 km didn’t change anything after all. But I’m still glad I didn’t quit.

Race of the Week: Norseman Extreme Triathlon

If you are shaped like me, 30 lbs overweight, this race will definitely help you get rid of all the extra baggage you are carrying (although it is probably wiser to lose it before you enter the race!). The Norseman Extreme Triathlon has been called the toughest triathlon in the world. And for a reason. You start by jumping from a boat into the 15,5-17,5°C / 59-63F cold waters of the fjord Hardangerfjord. The task is, obviously, to swim safely back to land. What awaits you there is a hilly bike course of 180 km. I have never tried this race myself, but judging from the course map, it looks like you have to do some 1200 meters / 3940 feet of climbing in the first 40 km or so. After that you get some 50 km of gradual downhill, then then some rolling hills before you end with a nice long downhill.

The run - a full marathon -  is on no ordinary triathlon course, either. Ok, the first 25 km are relatively flat, but in the last 17,2 km you have to endure an extremely tough uphill, taking you from some 200 meters / 655 feet above sea level up to 1850 meters / 6070 feet, at the top of the mountain Gaustatoppen.

As if the course itself is not tough enough, the weather up there in the mountains can be extreme; heavy winds, cold rain or snow. Therefore the organizers have developed a very sound safety process and strict rules regarding cut-off times along the way. Those who make it all the way up to the mountain will be brought down by an elevator inside the mountain. If the elevator is not working, they have to walk back down.

The price for the winner is the same as the price for the last person to make it to the top of the mountain, a fabulous black T-shirt!

The course record for the Norseman Extreme Triathlon is unbelievable, 10 hours and 30 minutes, held by Bjorn Anderson from Sweden. The female record is 13 hours and 13 minutes, held by Susanne Buckenlei from Germany.

For more detailed information on the Norseman Extreme Triathlon, click the link in the "Race of the Week" column on the right hand side of your screen.  See a video from the event here below.

Always got time for training?

My tri group had an extra swim session on Saturday morning, with a guest coach who had the challenging task of trying to improve our technique. Due to the nature of this session – short drills, lot of stops to listen to explanations etc – it was in no way very demanding physically. As I was driving home afterwards, I therefore decided that I had to find the time to put in another training later that day. The weather was horrendous, or to put it more positively, it was a glorious day for indoor training.  I have a bike trainer ready at home and there is a gym close by with tons of treadmills, so there shouldn’t be any problems.  You know what they say: if you want it, you can always find some 30 or 40 minutes for training.

I got home to learn that my younger kid had suddenly got sick and was throwing up like crazy.  About half an hour later the older kid started doing the same. My wife had to attend some fundraiser-charity thing, so I got to spend a “quality daddy-day” with my boys.

I won’t go into any details, but I spent the day sprinting with the kids to the bathroom, cleaning up the mess when they missed the target, and making sure they got enough fluid and had something in their stomachs for the next round of throwing up.

In the late afternoon, when my wife was back and the kids finally started to feel a bit better, I perhaps should have gone for my training.  But I simply couldn’t bring myself to do it. I was feeling strangely ill and was convinced that my stomach would strongly object any attempt to train. Instead, I sat down in front of the TV and watched cross country skiing and biathlon, and tried not to think about how far behind schedule I have fallen with the training for my first full marathon.

They may say that you can always find some 30 or 40 minutes for training. But they are wrong.

Short race = lactic acid tourture

I participated in a cross country ski race yesterday. Just a very informal, small-scale local club race with some 20 people. The distance, 3 km, was the shortest I have raced for several years and I convinced myself beforehand that this would be a peace of cake. It turned out to be just the opposite!

I arrived quite late so there was no time for warm-up. I just put two thin layers of kick wax under the skis and then went straight to the start line. The pace was furious right from the go and after just one minute or so, my arms and abs were already hurting as the lactic acid started building up due to ferocious (for my standard, mind you) double poling. It was such a relief when I finally got to the first uphill, because changing to diagonal stride gave me a rest for a moment. But only for a moment. The hill was long and as I desperately tried to hang on to the guys in front of me I felt the lactic acid accumulating in my hamstrings and thighs.  I could barely make it over the top and into the downhill. At this point, after less than one km, my legs were so stiff I could hardly bend my knees as I glided down. It only got worse from there, because soon my lungs started burning as well. I still managed to stay in 8th place (which was marvelous for me) right until the very last half km.  On the final climb my legs said “no thank you”  and my lungs said “we agree with the legs” so I had to slow down and just walk the last part of the hill. On the final flat stretch to the finish line my arms and abs said “we agree with the legs and lungs” so I guess I was a pretty sorry sight as I stumbled across the line.  Some six guys passed me on this last part, so I finished in 14th place. Still managed to keep a handful behind me.

I couldn’t believe the torture and pain I endured for such a short race. I know that shorter distances obviously call for much faster pace, and perhaps it wasn’t a sign of intelligence to skip the warm up. But my lesson is that at my age the body prefers long-distance-slower-pace races.

Race of the Week: Vitruvian Triathlon

First, just to have it clear: The “Race of the Week” doesn’t necessarily have to take place during the week it is featured here on this site. It may take place any day of the year, but I´ll feature it here basically as soon as it catches my attention. And such is the case this week, as I briefly introduce the Vitruvian Triathlon.

Staged in Rutland Water, Leicestershire, UK, the Vitruvian Triathlon was voted the event of the year by the 220 Triathlon magazine for three consecutive years, 2008, 2009 and 2010. In its inaugural year, 2003, this race attracted less than 250 participants, but now they have put the maximum at one thousand and are already fully booked for 2012, apart from some 20 charity places.

The distance is basically half-Ironman, with 1,9 km swim (2 laps), 85 km bike ( 2 laps) and 21 km run (2 laps). For those who do not feel they’re up to the whole distance, there is also a relay competition with each team consisting of three athletes.

I have never done this race myself, but a friend of mine has, and he gives it his best recommendations. The organization was great, excellent atmosphere before, during and after the race, and he especially talks about the bike course as one of his all time favorites, being very challenging, but in an enjoyable way.

With the 2012 edition of the Vitruvian Triathlon fully booked, this might be something to look forward to in 2013.

For further information, go to the race website by clicking the link in the "Race of the Week" column on the right hand side of your screen.

I surrender - I'm eating healthier now!

I never thought this would happen to me. Never. But it is official nevertheless – I’ve started my own personal healthy-eating campaign! Not that I’m going to interfere with other people’s eating habits, this campaign is aimed at myself only.

I actually believe that my diet is quite normal; it consists of typical “home food” – much of it quite healthy – with the occasional sweet treat and junk food days. However, in later years the sweet treats and junk food days have become more and more frequent, resulting in an ever increased pressure on my bathroom scale, despite my rather regular training.

For many years I have followed the rule of not letting my sports spoil my love for eating.  But although I find it hard to admit, my opinion on this seems to be starting to change. I have a few races lined up in the next eight months or so. A handful of long-distance cross country ski races, one aquathlon, one duathlon, a couple of short triathlons, possibly a half-Ironman distance triathlon, an uphill bike race, and my first full marathon run.  As I have said in earlier posts, I’m not a very competitive-minded man, so where I finish on the results lists is not a big issue for me. I am, however, some 30 lbs overweight so my worry is that if I go though all the races, plus all the training required, carrying so much extra weight, it might be damaging for my ankles, knees, hips, back etc. Hence the improved diet. As an added bonus, I've been told that each pound I lose will make my marathon time one minute faster.

I’m not turning into a fanatic though, and I’m certainly not going to be on of those look-at-me-I’m-eating-soooo-healthy people, who substitute their lunch for some slimy, green semi-liquid which looks like something has been dead in it for months. Smaller/fewer portions and less yeast will be my main focus, at least during the first stage of this campaign. The plan is to later decrease my consumption of sugar, but that’s as far as I’m willing to go. After that my diet will be varied and balanced. I believe that the middle road is healthier that fanaticism in all aspects of life – including the diet.

Trainer - can things get any more boring?

Where I live, biking outdoors is more or less impossible from November through March. A few years ago I therefore suggested to my wife that a bike trainer would be a brilliant idea for a Christmas present. I was overjoyed when I finally got to unwrap the present and found a shiny, new trainer. OK, maybe I helped her a little bit choosing the one I wanted, but I was still very glad.

I immediately set the thing up in the living room. My idea had always been that we could have cozy evenings together in front of the TV while I did my biking, she did her knitting and the kids slept in their rooms. That was my dream. In reality the trainer turned out to be so noisy that it drove my wife nuts, kept the kids awake and made our neighbors downstairs think there was a poltergeist in the building. To cut a long story short I was ordered to do my biking in the storage room "and keep the door shut, sweetie!"

Despite this minor setback, I used the trainer a lot that winter. The next winter, however, I used it a little bit less, and the third winter I used it perhaps once every two or three weeks. This current winter I set the trainer up in November as usual, but so far I have only logged two sessions on it. And that even though I now have a small TV set I can watch while spinning. There is just something so overwhelmingly boring about biking without going anywhere, that I can't bring myself to do it. For me, this comes a close second to treadmill running in the competition for the least enjoyable way of training.

But as of today there will be no mercy. I have a run-bike-run duathlon coming up in about two months and if I want to cross the finish line before the timekeepers pack up and go home to sleep, I need to force myself to practice on the trainer. Someone told me that the most difficult and boring training is probably the one I'm in the most need for. So now I'll have to learn to think of the trainer as my friend. I loved it when I first got it, and hopefully I can love it again now.

Race of the Week: Vasaloppet

Perhaps I should apologize that for the third time in a row, the race of the week is from the world of cross country skiing. But there is now way to ignore the fact that the biggest and most prestigious cross country race on the planet is coming up. After winning gold at the Olympics or World Championships, most cross country skiers would want to win the Vasaloppet in Sweden. 

The race is not only for elite pro skiers though, because this Sunday morning some 16 thousand skiers of all levels of ability will leave the starting area in Sälen, hoping to make it all the way to the finish in downtown Mora.  Not everyone will. The total distance is 90 km, and on the way you have to pass through a few cut-out gates before they close. If you don’t make it in time, you have to abandon the race and take the bus to Mora.

The Vasaloppet has grown from being a single event to a festival that stretches over more than a week. On the program you will find variety of races, such as children’s race, relay, half-Vasa-distance race, “open track” and more, as well as numerous cultural events. This year, the organizers have received more than 60 thousand registrations for the various races of the festival.

I have skied the Vasaloppet once, and made it all the way! The experience was incredible. This race is a benchmark for all other races when it comes to organization, logistics, atmosphere, the crowd along the course etc.  For many of my friends, this race is like a magnet. They travel to Sweden year after year to be a part of this festival. I loved the race also, but I prefer to try different races rather than going to the same place over and over again. And, while the experience of skiing the Vasaloppet cannot be beaten, I have to say that the course itself is far from the most fun or exiting one I have tried. To be honest, it is quite dull at times, mostly flat with very limited variety in the landscape.  But you don’t really ski the Vasaloppet just for the course. You ski it for the challenge of finishing a 90 km race. You ski it for the indescribable atmosphere before, during and after the race. You ski it for the enthusiastic crowd along the track. You ski it for the blueberry soup at the feeding stations. You ski it for the pure joy which engulfs everything and everyone during the festival. And, you ski it for the prestige of participating in the biggest single skiing event in the world.

For practical info on traveling and such, see http://www.worldloppetskier.com/  

Mental wreck?

When I posted the blog on my “psychological back pain” (see below) I may have opened a box that I should have left unopened. The response I’ve received has made me feel like a mental wreck!

I got a message from a person who found it highly possible the back pain I talked about was indeed imagined. What is more, this person also claimed that my relaxed attitude towards racing and competition comes from the same root.  As I have said before on this blog, I’m not a very competition-minded man. I mean, I love to participate in competitions, but whether I finish at the back of the pack or somewhere close to the middle doesn’t bother me at all (or almost never bothers me). I never have any problems sleeping the night before a race, I never have any problems eating, I’m never nervous before a race ... I’m just there to enjoy the occasion without too much attention on the results.  Actually, I most often give up searching before I manage to find my name on the results lists.

Now, this person I mentioned has found out that this attitude is, in a way, related to my back pain. According to the theory, there comes a time in every race when I know I’m getting tired, but I also know that in order to beat my training buddies I need to push harder and enter a zone of discomfort or downright pain. My subconsciousness  desperately wants to avoid that zone, so it creates this back pain to give me an excuse – or force me – to slow down. In the same manner, according to the theory, I enter each race without any pressure or desire to grind out results, just to save myself from disappointment if I fail to meet my own expectations. 

I’m a bit confused here. Part of me wants to acknowledge that this is exactly the case. That same part of me wants to run to the library and borrow every book they have on psychology and try to “cure” myself. Another part of me asks: Is it really so that whoever enters a competition purely to enjoy the occasion, to mingle with other people interested in the same sport, to get a reasonably hard exercise for the body, is simply trying to escape his/her inadequate mentality?

Psychological back pain?

I never came close to reaching an international level as an athlete. The main reason was lack of talent, physical and psychological. Throw in a large portion of laziness and lack of self discipline, and that puts me where I am today: a middle aged man at the back-of-the-pack-at-small-local-club-races level. But I thoroughly enjoy it, nevertheless.

Cross country skiing should probably be my strongest sport, but pain in my lower back has made it difficult for me to ski at full force. I remember feeling this pain occasionally during my late teens, but since I reached thirty it has been getting worse year by year. This pain always starts in my lower back and then leads down through the hips and to the thighs. It makes each stride painful, and it is almost impossible for me to stay in the "hockey" position on the downhills.  Sometimes the pain wears off after 10-15 kilometers, sometimes it lingers until I finish. The funny thing is, that when I stop it only takes a minute or two before the pain disappears, and I never feel it in my daily life or in the other sports I engage in.

I have been to physiotherapists, doctors, specialists; I have been massaged, x-rayed and researched thoroughly but I never get any better. Actually, no one can find anything wrong with my back. One specialist told me that my back was exceptionally "well built". But even that doesn't make the pain any more bearable.

A few weeks ago I heard an interesting theory. There was this guy who told me that my pain was probably psychological. He believes that, however it started, my brain now recons that skiing and back pain should go hand in hand. The brain, therefore, simply makes the lower back, hips and thighs believe that they are suffering whenever I go skiing. The other possibility, he said, is that the pain is some kind of a defensive reaction, so when I know that I´m going to be tired, struggling and suffering out on the course, I simply imagine this back pain to give myself an excuse to slow down and relax. Honestly, the pain feels real enough, but after so many unsuccessful attempts at understanding it and getting rid of it, I'm not closing the door on any possible explanation. But how do you make an imagined pain go away?

Race of the week: American Birkebeiner

This week, we have another cross country ski race as our star event. The American Birkebeiner is the biggest cross country ski race in North America and it takes place now in late February. The festival actually starts today, Thursday, but the main race is on Saturday.

For the main race, participants have a choice of skiing either 50 km freestyle or 54 classic style. Both start in Cable, Wisconsin, and finish in Hayward. On the days leading up to the main race, there is a variety of events on offer, including shorter distance races, childrens' races, etc.

When I skied the American Birkebeiner, or Birkie as most people simply call it, some years ago, the freestyle race and the classic race were the same distance and on the same course, with the classic track just put near the edge of the course. I remember how impressed I was over the fact that those who were doing the race freestyle totally respected the rights of the classic skiers, and were very careful not to skate on the classic track.

Since then, the organizers have been working hard to further improve the conditions for the classic skiers. According to the course map for this year's edition of the race, more than half of the course is on separate tracks for classic and freestyle. This separation has left the classic part some 4 km longer than the freestyle part.

The small village of Hayward is the main center of the American Birkebeiner. I would advise everyone to try to find accommodation in or near that village if possible. The atmosphere there during the Birkie festival is hard to describe, but believe me, it is absolutely wonderful. Everyone is living and breathing this event, where ever you go people are asking you about the race, giving you advise etc. It is such friendly surroundings that you cannot avoid smiling the whole day and even in your sleep as well.

Everything about the race itself is also very well organized, whether it is the transport to the start area, the preparation of the track, the feeding stations, information for participants before and after the race ... it is all first class. The spectators along the track are also very lively and very helpful as they cheer you on. It still puts smile on my face when I think about the spectators who filled me with energy as I struggled my way up the notorious "Bitch Hill". 

I would definitely recommend that all cross country skiers try the Birkie. It is easily on the top-three list of my favorite ski races. Organization, atmosphere and the whole experience in general, it is all top class.

For advise on traveling to the Birkie, and more races, see www.worldloppetskier.com.

The new guy on lane 3

Funny that I mentioned my swimming on lane 3, here on the blog yesterday (see below).  At our practice this morning, a new guy was promoted right from the beginners lane up to lane 3. As always, when someone new comes to our line, the "old dogs" decided to welcome him by pushing extra hard on all sets, making him really sweat in the water, trying to keep up with us. And it worked perfectly for just over 2 km.  For the first time since ... well, ever really, I wasn't the slowest on the backstroke.  We left him behind on the breaststroke also, and in one long set of freestyle we even rounded him.  During the breaks we would shower him with nasty jokes and comments, all in good spirit of course, and he just laughed along. We have all been through this at some point (and hopefully will be again, that is if we ever manage to be promoted up to lanes 4, 5 or 6).

Then came the butterfly. Bloody butterfly. All kinds of drills and sprints and whatever names they want to use as a substitute for the correct term: torture. Seven hundred meters of it. The new guy was flying, if you can use that word for a swimmer. Him and me, we were like Ferrari vs Driving Miss Daisy.  Afterwards he just smiled modestly and mumbled something about his injured elbow troubling him during the first few sets, but said he was feeling fine now.  Fantastic! So he's heading for lane 4 as soon as his elbow is OK. Damn, I wish I found a way to make progress faster. But at least the rest of us on lane 3 had fun pushing him for the first 2 km. Always look on the bright side ...

Stuck in lane 3

At my tri club, we have three swim sessions per week. We get to use six lanes in the pool, so the beginners swim on lane 1, the fastest guys on lane 6, and the rest of us on the other lanes, according to ability.

When I started regular swimming, some four years ago, lane 1 was the natural starting point. I quickly worked my way up to lane 2 and within eight months I was on lane 3. Fast forward three years and I'm still swimming on lane 3! Sure I made some improvements, especially the first three years, but the other guys improved as well so there has not been any reason to promote me any further. And now that we have a swim coach who seems to believe that butterfly and backstroke are of utter importance for triathletes, I'm actually facing the danger of being relegated back to lane 2. The thing is, when I try butterfly, Pamela Anderson, David Hasselhoff and all the other lifeguards are put on alert and better start looking for their red swimwear because there is a real danger at hand. After each pool length I got more water than air in my lungs, and I usually have to safe my life by turning to breaststroke the last few feet. Alarmingly, since this backstroke and butterfly was introduced into our program, my improvement in the freestyle has stopped. What fool was I to think that the whole purpose of waking up at 4:50 AM to go swimming was to improve my performance in triathlons and aquathlons!

I have tried to be positive; tried to convince myself that this will be good for me in the long run, you know, give me a better position in the water, better feeling for the water or something. But in my heart I just don't believe it. It's funny, though, that this should bug me that much, because usually I'm not a very competitive person. I'm most often at the back of the pack when it comes to racing and that doesn't bother me too much. But for some reason, this swim thing is making me extremely frustrated. There have been moments when I have seriously considered whether I should stop swimming with the group and start studying videos and books in order to make my own program and start training independently. However, knowing myself, this is a bad idea for two reasons: 1- I would miss the company, as for me the social aspect of the early morning swim sessions is probably just as important, or more so, as the actual training. And 2-I'm pretty sure that if I was going to do this on my own, reading books about swimming and studying videos would soon be taking all the time I have available for swimming, so there would be no time for actually getting wet!

Conclusion: I will continue to endure the butterfly, knowing that what really counts is to survive each session and get into the hot pot where me and my buddies easily solve all the world's problems.

Race of the week: Tartu Maraton

I’ve decided to start a “race of the week” feature here on this blog. It may be a race I have participated in myself, but most often it will be just something I have read or heard about and found to be interesting.

The first race of the week is Tartu Maraton in Estonia (see details here on the right  -and yes, they say maraton, without the -h!). This is a cross country ski race, although they also offer a run, bike and inline skating competitions during other seasons. The ski race takes place this coming Sunday, February 19. The main event is a 63 km classic race, but they also offer a shorter distance of 31 km.

I have actually participated in the Tartu Maraton once and skied the full 63 km, and I can honestly recommend it. The start is at the fantastic World Cup ski stadium in Otepää and the finish in Elva.

The start area is wide with numerous tracks. The course itself is very well prepared and if I remember correctly there were always at least 4 tracks to ski in, and more in the wider areas. Therefore, there were never any bottlenecks or other problems with traffic.

The atmosphere along the course was friendly, with numerous people cheering the skiers on. The food stations were well organized and in the finish area they served us free dark beer, warmed in a huge pot over open fire. I will never forget the look on my buddy’s face just before he spat it out!

The luggage pick-up was well organized as well. I got my warm and dry clothes, but due to lack of facilities, we had to change clothes in a huge tent with no showers. To be fair, though, I believe that only a minority of ski marathons can offer shower facilities in the finish area.

After changing clothes we were served a warm, delicious soup which we enjoyed out in the cold before taking the bus back to Otepää, where our accommodation was.

There are many ways to travel to this race. We flew in to Helsinki, Finland, and took a short ferry ride over to Tallin in Estonia.  It is, of course, also possible to fly directly to Tallin, or even fly to Stockholm, Sweden, and take a ferry from there to Tallin. Once we arrived in Tallin, our plan was to take a bus to Otepää, but we soon found out that for a group of four people, it was just as cheep to share a taxi.

I thoroughly enjoyed my participation in the Tartu Maraton and I recommend taking a couple of days extra to relax and have a look around. Further information on traveling to this race, and many others, can be found on www.worldloppetskier.com.  

Note that for those who wish to ski the course, without being in the big crowd on race day, the organizers offer an “open track” one week before the main race.

I hate treadmill running - a little bit less

When the weather conditions are just too horrendous to go for a run outside, I face the choice of skipping the practice or going to the gym and run on a treadmill. I usually take the first option, but these days I’m trying to stay on track with the training for my first marathon (seriously considering a half-Ironman as well next summer!). Therefore I opted to run on the treadmill this morning, as I felt the storm and the rain were simply too unappealing for an early morning open-air run.

Running on a treadmill is probably the most boring form of training ever invented.  True, most gyms have TV screens to help people forget what they are actually doing there, but in my gym the screens are so high on the wall that my neck starts hurting after a few minutes of watching. After that I can choose between watching myself in the mirror or staring at the treadmill’s dashboard.  I usually don’t find the picture in the mirror appealing at all so I end up staring at the dashboard, waiting for it to show the time or distance I need to reach so I can go and take a shower. It is all so painfully slow when you keep staring at the digits.

But anyway, this morning was different. Not fun, but different. I went through the program as my coach had set it up. During the warm up, everything was normal. An interval of 6 x 1000 m at half-marathon pace went relatively well, also. Then there was this 4x200 m “fast and furious”. I put the treadmill on 20, the fastest it can go. The first two sprints were fine, but during the third one, there was a power failure. The bloody treadmill stopped before I did, so I went head first over the dashboard and ended up basically head-down-ankles-up. Fortunately there were not many other people in there to see this, but the owner noticed what happened and came running, worried that I had seriously injured myself. It didn’t hurt at all, though, (apart from damaging the ego a tiny bit) and once the power was on again, I finished the program.

But now I realize that treadmill running is not only boring, but dangerous as well. Which again makes it a little bit less boring.

It was wet, windy and my belly was full of T-bone steak, but I still managed to force myself to go for a run last night. Just a short one, but still a run. My 214 lbs body has never felt soooo heavy, my oversize heart was struggling, my muscles were burning as my lungs couldn't get enough oxygen in. I felt I was about to faint. All this after quarter of a mile. Although I recovered slightly, it felt bad until I was back home and in the hot shower.

I started wondering: Is it good for the body to go for a run with the belly full of food? I know you can get a side stitch but that was not my problem yesterday. Rather, this overwhelming feeling that there wasn't enough blood in my body to keep it going.  So I figured, perhaps the digestive system needs a certain amount of blood, at least the first hour or so after a heavy meal (o.k. I ate three plates more than I should have).  Then, if you go for a run at the same time, the "running muscles" must compete with the digestive system for the blood available. My question is, can this competition be damaging for the body?

Lost weekend for me and Lance

I didn't train at all this weekend. Damn! I was planning to do a long run on Saturday and then go cross country skiing on Sunday. Instead I ate a pizza, ice cream (three of them, actually), a big steak with fries and a mountain of chocolate. I tried to convince myself that consuming all this energy would give me a huge boost of energy for my next training session (whenever it will take place!) but I had to admit that in reality, all it gave me was an unwanted addition to my bodyweight. An this happened just days after me and my coach had  been talking about how I need to loose some 25-30 lbs before I run my first full marathon!

The good thing about this weekend is that I managed to postpone that first marathon for a few months. The plan was to run it in May, but I found one that suits me better in October so I'm altering my plans. This gives me some four months more to loose those pounds and get in shape. My goal is to run the marathon in something like 3:40 hours. Currently, though, 5:40 hours is probably closer to reality (well, DNF would be the most likely results if I was running today!), but given that I have done a couple of half marathons in the past in 1:40 to 1:50, plus I have finished Ironman 70.3 distance in 5:45 hours, my coach tells me I should be able to break 3:40 in a full marathon, but sadly this can only happen if I loose weight and train consistently.

Let's not, though, underestimate the importance of resting. You know, during your training sessions, all you do is damage your muscles. When you are resting afterwards, that's when you make the actual progress. That's when the body recovers from those damages and actually adds a little bit extra to be better able to deal with the strain you put on it at your next practice. So, alternating training and resting - plus suitable nutrition - is what gives us better shape and improved results. My problem is that the balance between those three has not been perfect lately. I have emphasised resting and nutrition too much, and paid too little attention to the training part. But that will change. Someday.

Finally: One person who had a lousier weekend than me was a certain Mr. Lance Armstrong.  It looks like he didn't get nearly as many ice creams as me. However, he can take some consolation in the fact that he made an impressive comeback to the Ironman world (or rather Ironman 70.3 world) with a second place finish at Ironman 70.3 Panama (see here).

Discovering the world through ski races

Just to continue with what I was talking about in the “Race to see the world” post here below:

In 2006, Håvard Skorstad, former member of the Norwegian national cross-country team, wrote an article called “Discovering the World through Ski Races”. Originally published on www.langrenn.com, the piece can be found in English on www.fasterskier.com (the article itself is here). In it, Skorstad shows us his top-5 list of races that cross-country skiers should make sure they don’t miss (given that they can find the time and money necessary):

• Vasaloppet, Sweden, (www.vasaloppet.se)
• Marcialonga, Italy, (www.marcialonga.it)
• Fossavatn Ski Marathon, Iceland (www.fossavatn.com)
• Chinese Vasaloppet, China, (www.vasaloppetchina.com)
• Svalbard Skimarathon, Norway/Svalbard (http://ski.svalbard.com)

Sounds like a plan to me.   

 

Quit sports and start smoking?

For many years I was ignorant – and happy. I honestly believed that participating in sports would do me good; make me stronger and healthier. Then I discovered that I have developed an overgrown heart and abnormal heartbeat. Since I wrote a few lines about this problem (see “A good heart” here below) my attention has been brought to numerous articles about sports and heart disease.

A recent research in Australia shows that endurance athletes are in a risk of developing malfunction in the right ventricle of the heart.  Much to my relief, a researcher was quoted saying “Endurance athletes like marathon runners may suffer damage to their hearts but it doesn't mean that exercise is unhealthy” (see here).  Great news that we can damage our hearts in a healthy way !   

An older research in France showed numerous heart-related problems and deaths amongst bikers who participated in the Tour de France after 1960. A research in Iceland seems to show that many athletes develop abnormal heart function which, I understand, may be connected to the scary cases we occasionally hear about, of athletes dying sudden death while training or racing. The list goes on.

I know that my doctor told me not to worry, just keep on living, training and racing as I have always done.  This does, however, make me wonder how precise science really is.  Don’t we have countless examples of “scientific facts” that suddenly loose their validity and some new "truth" takes over?   Will we, after 5 or 10 years, see an announcement saying: “Please note that due to some minor error in calculation, the results of all previous research on smoking have been misleading. After recalculating all available data, it is now evident that smoking substantially benefits health and is especially effective in countering the damaging effects on the heart and lungs, caused by involvement in the so-called sports.”

I admit that after briefing through some of the research on the Internet last night, I felt like quitting all sports, taking up smoking and joining a poker club. I decided to sleep on it. Then, at 5:00 AM this morning, I woke up to attend my tri-club’s swim practice. After two miles of drills and sprints I felt a little bit better.

Celebrate all victories - also the small ones!

You know the feeling. You have been putting in those 9-12 hours per week consistently, endured the tough intervals and skipped your children’s music school concert to do the long and slow runs. Rain or shine, you never miss a training. And then, after three months or so, you suddenly realize it. You are actually running faster and lasting longer. Your performance has risen to the next level, and you are ready to take your training there, too.

Not for me. One of the million reasons why I’m such a poor athlete is that I lack consistency.  I may start the build-up season with high hopes and noble goals, but it usually wears off pretty soon. Family obligations, lack of time, the weather is too cold or too warm, too wet or too dry, too windy or too still ... I usually find a reason to skip training. First it’s just one training, but then it is easier to skip the next one and the next one and the next ... When I finally find the motivation again, I’m back on square one, start from scratch.

When I did my first half-Ironman distance race, for once I managed to train consistently for 9 months. I had a great race but afterwards I was totally worn out – mentally. I couldn’t find the motivation to train for six weeks after the race and when I finally started again, I was back on square one.

My friend has challenged me to do my first full marathon next summer.  In order to have a decent race I would have to loose preferably some 30 lbs. And train consistently.  As I said, consistency is not my strong side when it comes to training. But yesterday I won a small victory. The weather was dreadful, temperature just above freezing, with heavy rain. You know, the kind of rain that is somehow much colder than snow. Usually I would find an excuse not to go out. Help the kids with their homework, help the wife with ... whatever. But none of them actually begged me to stay at home yesterday, so finally I forced myself to go out.  The freezing rain slapped me; my face and thighs immediately started burning with cold, but I kept on going. After a few minutes I came to a path that goes directly uphill. A mile and a half with 8-10° incline. I decided to really beat myself and run up the hill, with the wind and the rain in my face. At the top my George Michael three-day beard was all iced up, my thighs were practically frozen but I was immensely happy with myself.

Incredibly, I also had the wind in my face on the way back, but I made it home an awfully proud man. I know that one run of just 5 miles is, per se, not going to change a lot for my marathon next summer. But, this was a moral victory. I forced myself to train in conditions I would normally have found an excuse not to. I felt really good about myself and I’m convinced that next time it will be a wee bit easier to convince myself to go out and train. So this victory, as small as it was, may prove to be very important in keeping me on track with my training, keeping the momentum going.

There may be some truth in what I read somewhere: Always remember to celebrate all victories, also the ones that seem almost too small and unimportant to count as victories. They may be our most important ones.

Race to see the world!

Traveling to participate in races, whether they are triathlons, marathons, cross country ski races or something else, is a fantastic way to see the world. What makes it even better is that many of the best races are staged in areas or cities that are not the most usual destinations for “normal” tourists.

Every few years I try to travel somewhere to participate in a race. Most of them, so far, have been on cross country skis. There are numerous great long-distance ski races held around the world, where the amateurs share the tracks with the world stars. Those races are often referred to as “ski marathons” although the distance is usually not the actual marathon distance of 26,2 miles / 42,2 km.  The most common distance is probably around 50 km, but you should be able to find both longer and shorter distances. Obviously there are also great marathons and triathlons held around the globe, and I’m hoping to explore more of them in the not-too-distant future.

If you are spending your time and money on traveling long distances – even to other countries – to participate in a race, you want to make sure that it is worth it. If the race is a part of recognized series such as Worldloppet or Euroloppet, you will know that it is good, as these series demand that their races fulfill certain requirements regarding organization, tracks, service to participants and just quality in general.  There are also many great races that are not a part of such series, so make sure you do your research on the internet on simply ask those who have the experience. Websites such as http://www.worldloppetskier.com/ are also very helpful when organizing such a trip.

Participating in races has given me the opportunity to visit places such as Hayward (Wisconsin, USA), Otepää (Estonia), Mora (Sweden), Berlin (Germany), Bathurst (NB, Canada) and more. Most of them I would never have visited if it hadn’t been for racing.  I know that such trips to other countries cost money and they take time from family and work, but if you make a plan to squeeze them in every four years or so, it just might work.

Should you be fortunate enough to have the opportunity to go on such a trip, my main advise would be to find an accommodation close to the centre of the race, somewhere where you know many other participants will be staying. Research shows that one of the things that people value the most on such trips is to meet other people – from all over the world – who share the same “sub-culture, i.e. the passion for the sport. In this regard, I have found that races held in small communities, such as Mora or Hayward, usually somehow generate greater atmosphere and better overall experience than those held in big cities. It looks like the big city races are in more danger of fading a little bit amongst all the other things that the big cities have to offer. The participants are also more spread around the whole city, so the “intimate” atmosphere and the sharing of the sub-culture is less likely to happen.

Beaten by the girl I used to babysit !!

What a fabulous day! This was turning out to be one of my best races in several years. I was relaxed, calm, confident; had a solid game plan as well as a smooth, effective and energy-saving technique (any similarity to any paragraphs in the post here below is purely coincidental). I was a happy, happy man when I crossed the finish line after 30 km of cross country skiing yesterday. But it all changed quickly, as I was walking towards the small booth to pick up my dry-clothes-bag. 

Suddenly, I saw a familiar face. I hadn’t seen her for a few years, but she was the spitting image of her mom.  Our conversation went like this (I won’t write her words, you will be able to figure them out):

Me:      Hi, is it ...  Is it really you?

She:      ...

Me:      Wow, I haven’t seen you for a long time. You must be what, twelve years old now, right?

She:      ...

Me:      Pardon me? Really? You are 28 already? Ehh, you’ve probably forgotten me then, but I used to live next door to your parents. Our moms used to make me babysit you. Are you sure you’re 28? How time flies. I tried to teach you to play basketball; you told me you wanted to be a pilot.

She:      ...

Me:      Oh really, you are a commercial pilot now! Good for you! ...So, you were skiing here today? Did you do one of the short distances?

She:      ...

Me:      Oh, you did the full 30 km?  But you’ve already changed your clothes, did you break the race? No shame in that, you need to train really hard ...

She:      ...

Me:      Oh really? So you did finish the race? Just over 30 minutes ago? Great! Listen, it was really nice seeing you, but I need to put some dry clothes on. Say hello to your folks, bye!

What a dreadful day! This was one of the lowest points of my career.  I had just lost to the baby girl I used to babysit when I was a teenager. And I hadn’t just lost to her; I lost by half an hour. Just over half an hour, actually.

I feel old, weak and tired.

Sex before a race?

"If you want people to read your blog, write about sex". This is the advise I got from my friend who actually made me start this blog. And is just about the only reader - yet.  Faithful to the main theme of this site - endurance sports - I decided to take this opportunity to address the most important question an athlete can ask: "Is it good or bad to have sex the night before a race?"

I have heard both pros and cons. Those in favour of it claim that a little workout between the sheets the night before a race will help you approach the competition at hand in a rational way. You will be relaxed, calm, confident and less likely to let those shaky nerves ruin your game plan. Those who are against it claim that abstinence the last few days before a race will give you the necessary aggression to push yourself to the limit, raise the pain barrier and give your opponents a real fight all the way to the finish line. They also claim that if sex-starved, you will be less likely to succumb to any mind games the competition will throw at you.

My own research on this matter has been inconclusive, i.e., there is no simple "yes" or "no" answer.  I´m leaning towards the conclusion that it all depends - to a large degree - on the race at hand.  If it is a long distance race, where the pace is a bit slower but you nee to have a clear mind, good tactics, a solid game plan as well as a smooth, effective and energy-saving technique, sex might actually be a good idea (as long as you manage to restrain yourself a little bit, in order not to wear yourself out totally). If, on the other hand, it is a short distance race, where explosive power, pace and aggression are the keys to success, then abstinence is likely to help you develop the necessary mood for success.

Further research is necessary, though.   

Swimming for triathletes

I often wonder whether triathletes should train for swimming in a different day from what specialized swimmers do.  I swim regularly with my training buddies who are all focusing on triathlon or aquathlon. Most often we train in a pool, and our coach makes us do endless repeats of backstroke, butterfly and even just butterfly feet or breaststroke. My question is: If you are a triathlete/aquathlete, and the only swim you do in a competition is the front crawl, does it make any sense to spend half your training time on all the other swims?

R9PA2Q9U4KKS

A good heart

Sorry, I couldn't help myself.  As you will have noticed, the title of this post is a quote from the classic Feargal Sharkey hit from the 80s. But that's not the point here. The thing is that I took my son to the doctor a few days ago. Nothing serious. The doctor seemed to have plenty of time, at least he offered me to have a short medical examination, since I was already there.  I accepted, of course, and the results showed that I was perfectly fine. Except there seemed to be something wrong with a small organ called heart. According to my doctor, my heartbeat sounded nothing like the heartbeat of a human being.

I was sent to a heart specialist who examined me thoroughly. He used dozens of cables to connect me to a computer before putting me on a stationary bike for some 15 minutes, while he observed all kinds of numbers and values on the screen. After that I had an ultra sound scanning or what ever it is called. The specialist's conclusion was that my heart was too big.  "Is it good or bad?" I asked. The answer, obviously, was that it could be either good or bad.  Luckily for me, it seems that in my case it is not harmful.  An overgrown heart may be an indication of some severe problems. However, when people have been involved in endurance sports for a long time, their hearts may grow bigger than hearts usually do. In those cases, this overgrowth is usually not dangerous. Or that's how I understood it.

The doctor told me just to keep on with my normal life, train as I usually train. From now on, though, I need to see him once a year to have my big heart checked.  And pay for it. Still, I kind of remember someone telling me that participating in sports would "keep the doctor - and his bill - away".

Revisited: The Right Frame of Mind

Many thanks to those who emailed me about the post "The Right Frame of Mind" (see a little bit further below). Just to share their suggestions with you, one claimed that learning self hypnosis helped her approach both racing and training (especially tough training and lousy weather conditions) in a more positive way. Two emails suggested that reading a book called The Triathlete's Guide to Mental Training by Taylor and Schneider could be a great help.  One of them wrote: "The book was great, but what helped me the most was learning this: When you are totally worn out and the pain is killing you, force yourself to smile and think "this is money in the bank, baby".  Once you master this, you will raise your pain barrier significantly."

33 lbs = 33 minutes?

I've never done a full marathon, at least not in a competition. I've done a few half-marathons and also some runs ranging from 20 to 33 km.  The plan is to do a full marathon next autumn. Now, as I have mentioned before I'm a little bit overweight. I love my steak and a good desert, and when it comes to my diet, changing old habits has never been an option. What I could gain in terms of improved times/performance is simply not worth the sacrifice. Or so I thought, until a few days ago when I met guy who insisted that in terms of marathon time, one pound equals one minute. This means that each pound you carry, in excess of optimum body weight, slows you down one minute for the duration of a marathon. I understand that I'm some 33 pounds over my optimum weight. That's 33 minutes. More than half an hour. I never imagined it would be THAT much. I need to do some research to find out whether this actually true, but I must admit it really gives me something to chew on, while I eat my French-fries.

Read - and get fit!

I watched the Marcialonga on TV yesterday. It is a beautiful cross-country ski race in Italy, 70 km long, packed with some six thousand participants ranging from professionals to “twice-a-week skiers”.  I almost skied this race a few years ago, but had to pull out due to injury. My friends went and they absolutely loved the track, the atmosphere and the whole experience in general.

As I sat in front of the screen yesterday and watched the pros double pole up the last 2 km long hill – without any kick wax under their skis – I couldn’t help but think “these guys are not human”. To be able to do this is one thing, but to do it after battling though 68 km first is simply beyond my understanding.  I wondered how on earth one could get so extremely fit. Then I skipped training.

This has been my story for the past several years. I spend a couple of hours watching a marathon run or a ski race, or brief through a few chapters in one of the numerous books on training and racing that are out there, and the result is that I have to skip the training session for the day. The thing is that after work there are only so many hours available, and the kids need help with the homework, the living room doesn’t paint itself etc. If I spend my precious time on watching TV or reading, that means my training time is gone.

My friends used to tell me “you can’t read yourself into shape”.  That, however, is not always true. I did my first half-Ironman distance triathlon a few years ago. As I don’t have a proper coach, I had to make my own training plan for the season, and as I’m no expert on these things I soon found myself spending a lot of time reading through the triathlon literature. I soon found a book called The Triathlon Training Bible by Joe Friel and decided that this was what I needed to make a sound plan. This is a big book, loaded with information, so there was a lot of reading to be done and digested. I, therefore, made a decision to skip all training for the first two weeks of the training season, and use my time instead to read the book and create the plan for the rest of the season.  My friends thought I was mad, but my reasoning was: "my main race is almost a year away. I don’t have the time to both read and train every day so I’ll sacrifice two weeks of training to come up with a good training program" (one might ask “why didn’t you train right after work and then read the book in bed before going to sleep in the evening?” Answer: “If  I try to read in bed I pass out before I finish quarter of a page”).

This worked. I finished my first half-Ironman distance race in 5 hours and 46 minutes, which was way better than I expected. More importantly, I beat all my training buddies – for the first and, so far, only time. So don’t let anyone tell you that you cannot get fit by reading!

The right frame of mind

When I was a teenager I had big dreams about myself as a top level athlete of the future . I could picture myself winning big races and representing my country at the Olympics. I guess that’s quite normal for kids and teenagers. I  always trained with my best friend. Whether it was a looooong and slow session or a murderous interval training, we would run neck in neck. However, when it came to racing, he always beat me comfortably.

Fast forward a few years. My friend went to the Olympics,  while I ehmmm ... did not.  It didn’t hurt, honestly, because by that time I had discovered something about myself. I had realised that I didn’t have the necessary desire to sacrifice everything for my sport. I didn’t have the mental toughness to endure the pain you must go through to get the results. I simply didn’t want success bad enough. I still loved training – but rather for social reasons and for staying in shape, than to become a top-level athlete.

Today, twenty something years later, my friend has grown fat and bold and cannot even stand the thought of training or racing anymore. As for myself, I’m also fat and bold but I still remain active in running, triathlons and cross-country skiing. But I’m still stuck in the same place as I was in my teens when it comes to the desire to succeed.  Today, just as back in the old days, I tend to ease off when things start getting tough. If the weather gets too cold, I tend to find an excuse to stay at home rather than go out for a run. And during races, when my muscles scream for mercy, I tend to obey. “It’s just a game, who cares whether I’ll be no 2500 rather than 2300 on the results list?” That’s my reasoning and I always manage to convince myself to slow down.

However, after I cross the finish line, I usually wish I had pushed harder, because I know that physically I have it in me to do better. I usually get over these thoughts in 12 minutes or so, but occasionally they linger. I have googled some articles about mental training, even borrowed a book from the library, but so far to no avail. I would, therefore, be interested to hear from people who have had this same “problem” and found a solution.

My intro

Greetings and welcome to the Endurance Sports blog. The main focus here will be on running (including marathon, half marathon, mountain runs, wilderness runs etc), triathlon (including Ironman and half Ironman distances, as well as shorter distances and various formats such as winter triathlon, extreme triathlon etc) and cross-country skiing. We will look at the sports from various different angles, such as training, health, gear, introducing interesting races and so on.

I don't claim to have all the answers, I might actually have more questions than answers.  As for myself, I'm no expert or pro when it comes to sports. I've been active since I was a teenager (which was, frightening enough, some 30 years ago) - although never very successful. I'm still quite active, I train 4-6 days per week and although I'm not very competitive-minded, I actually love to participate in runs, triathlons and cross-country ski races whenever possible. However, I never have the patience to search far enough down the results lists to find my name!

Being slightly overweight (33 lbs/15 kg of excess luggage) I often wish I had a lighter frame to carry on my runs, but have never actually done much about it.

Anyway, I will be sharing my thoughts, experiences and questions here on this site. I also aim to post a list of links to interesting races all around the world - races that suit and welcome the average person just as much as the pro.