You’ve Gotta Love Pain

This weekend was the Pre-Olympics Canmore World Cup. Set on one of the hardest courses in the World, Canmore will certainly let you know if you’re not in good shape. Day 1 was a 10km skate for the women, and 15k for the men. Coming back from Europe just 2 days before, then doing a hard race prep workout followed by a race was a recipe for disaster. I was totally unprepared for just how terrible I would feel on that course. My warm up was great and I felt fairly fresh, but 2k in told me I was dead wrong. To recap it all in a nutshell, I finished 4 min off the pace and had achy legs for the next 24 hours. Not exactly what I was hoping for coming off such good races in Europe. Alas, “that is sport” as Brent told me many times throughout the day.

I’ve compiled a few of my favorite photos of the men’s race from Dan Roycroft’s picasa web gallery. A full collection of the photos can be viewed at http://picasaweb.google.com/xcgeek. Click on the Canmore World cup photos. Highly recommended as they are all awesome.

The perfect description of just how hard this course is!

And this is how the Italian’s roll through this beast….

Here’s Devon showing just how awesome Oakley’s can look on camera
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And last but not least, here is a Swede (I really should know who this is, apologies) taking the 15k like a sprint. Unbelievable! I certainly did NOT feel like THIS…

U23 World Champs

Well, the once green and sunny Hinterzarten has turned into a “Whistler”. No longer are the tulips blooming. They are covered with 3 thick feet of snow. Don’t get me wrong, I love snow, but when it all comes during the races I start to dead waking up in the mornings. I’m a sun lover. I could bathe in the sun all day no matter how hot it gets. No sun for a week is miserable!

My first race was a 10k classic. I knew it was going to be a good one when I was standing in the start area thinking, “let me at that start line!”. Picking skis were tough. Was it the soft but draggy powder pair, or the medium camber klister ski? It was snowing, but the tracks were glazing which gave me confidence that I’d be able to kick the stiffer pair. Well, 9 layers of wax seemed to do the trick!

Once I was out of the start gate everything was a blur. My focus didn’t waver in the slightest and I was able to attack the course just the way I imagined. It was 3 loops of 3.3km. All up and down with one very long clmb and a steep one to finish. Going into the last long climb on the course was, believe it or not, invigorating. It seemed like almost one hundred people had gathered along the edge of the track to cheer. They had costumes, loud speakers, cow bells, buzookas- wait no, not the guns, the little instruments you blow into at partys and they were all lined up so close to the trail I barely had room to ski through them. They put a smile on my face through the most painful part of the course. Did it help me go faster? I’d say definately. In the middle of the climb I had a split saying I was 8th, and 5 seconds would give me three spots. I put my head down, hammered, and threw my foot over the line for a 5th place.

I was thrilled. “Now that’s what I came here to do!” I thought. Awards were sweet. The top 6 athletes were all given cuckoo clocks, except mine doesn’t have a bird it has a weird looking man-woman (couldn’t figure out which) on a swing instead. I hope it will survive the trip back home.

Training the next day was after the Junior races. We arrived on site to almost a foot of fresh powder on the course. I couldn’t believe how hard it was snowing and blowing. Those poor boys that had just raced! I picked my skis and prayed that weather would be different the next morning.

Not much different. Better, but still snowy. This time I went with the soft pair of classic skis and I was glad I did. The race gun went off and I was chaos right from the getgo. I jumped out of my track as soon as I could and tried to make a move from my mid-pack seed to the front. Stupid! I found myself back in 40th scrambling outside of the track. My skis compensated for my “Devon Kershaw-ish” qualities- sorry Devon but you are known to have a low tolerance for patience in races! the techs did an awesome job and I found myself flying by everyone that dropped me on the climb. Only problem was I kept riding up on everyone’s skis in front of me. My solution? Well, just ski on the skate course! Bad idea, recipe for disqualification. Luckily the officials deduced that had really had no advantage by skiing on the skate course because I’d be blocked out of the track on the climbs again. There I’d be herring-boning alongside the field as they all seemed to glide effortlessly by me again.
By the big climb I’d had enough of this herring-boning nonsene. I felt a pinch of pride flood through tme as I looked over at a Norwegian and elbowed her into the next track. Usually I avoid contact at all costs, but she was smaller than me. I came into transition in 7th place. I put on my skate skis and immediately latched on to the 6 girls in front of me. When we got to the big climb the three girls in the front made an attack. I went through a moment of hesitation, but the debate was obvious to me- “do I go with them and fight for a medal, or do I sit here and regret never trying?”.

I made my move and closed the gap. By the top of the course we’d dropped 5th by about 20 or 30 metres. And that was the end of me. I blew up. My legs seized and my focus did a backwards circle. I hung on for 8th, but it is an 8th I will hold with pride. Yes, maybe if I hadn’t blown up I could have skied to a top 6. But making the decision to grit your teeth and try for a medal- even if you know the pace is too fast- is a quality that makes winners. If I keep making these decisions to try and not quit, one day my body will respond, and when that day comes, watch out world- I’m coming for gold!

EXCITING NEWS!

I’ve officially made the Olympic Team!

Fun in Livigno

Here’s some pics of some fun we had in Livigno. Emily, Fred and I spent one afternoon in this big tent at the bottom of a downhill run. They had the music pumping 80s, it was a blast!

A little afternoon fun. There was no need to bring more than 10euros to the tent. Once you start dancing everything is free!

Here’s Em and I dancing… the Macarena came on!!

We met some fun Canadians at the tent. They were from Toronto and were just vacationing across Europe. Not a bad way to be!

Ice Sculptures!

Aaah, Spa…

Everything looked the same! Doors, doors and more doors. A recipe for disaster

Here’s where we ate. Food was so good!

I couldn’t resist, they were red

I got to Livignio all in one piece. The first couple hours of the drive were real low moments, but I sparked up once my stomach began to feel good enough to get some bread down. I’ve never gone on a trip to Europe without getting lost at least once. We drove over to a pass, but it turned out it was closed for the winter so we had to try and find some weird train that you put your car on and it transports you across the mountain.
I have no idea what it was called, so don’t ask, but it was probably one of the coolest things I’ve done in Europe. We just drove the van onto this big metal train. I barely even felt it start, and before we knew it we were going like 120 miles an hour along an underground tunnel. Time to get the chips out… it was just like a boring movie!
I was exhausted and grumpy when I woke up the next morning. My stomach stopped me from sleeping that night so I decided to take the day off. So much for the 3 to 3.5 hours of training I had for the next couple days. Oh well, Livigno was a great place to rest.
I managed to drag myself out of bed in the late afternoon to go to the spa. I got a little distracted while getting there. One innocent little shoe store stop and I just found myself laying down 100 euros. Well worth it though- 2 pairs of sweet shoes!
The spa was awesome. Confusing though! You enter into a maze of black and yellow change rooms. One side opens to the exit and the other goes into more mirrored corridors. I lost my locker and tried about 15 different ones before I found my stuff. There were 3 different levels of pools and relaxation rooms. The main part was lit in black light and the pools glowed. There was one that had a tunnel you could swim through to get from inside to outside. There were hot tubs, cold tubs, steam rooms, saunas, little beds you could lie on-I was in heaven! The only thing that was stopping me from my serenity was the constant watchful eyes of all the Italian life guards. All men, all seemingly single, although I’m sure they weren’t.
What made it worse was that I forgot my bathing suit! “Well”, I thought, “there’s nothing I can do but throw on my bra and undies.” Good thing they weren’t white! I tried to stay under water as much as possible, and when I wanted to change pools I’d make a dash across the pool deck. Even through my efforts to be as discreet as possible they noticed when I forgot my towel, when I left a door open and when I needed pictures taken. I was given free food and was offered cocktails afterward. I just wanted to cut all my hair off.
We ate at the Hotel Bivio. Best food ever! Great ice cream bar.

The Drive- Part One

Anyone remember the “PLAGUE”???- the horrible stomach flu that went rampant through the whole World Junior team in 2007? Those of you who were on it would surely remember. Well, it seems as though it has returned to haunt us for ‘09. One evening Jess didn’t show up for supper, and then 2 more didn’t show for breakfast the next morning. Before we knew it, the flu had taken off.

I thought I was going to be safe because I seemed to be immune the last time. It turns out I wasn’t so lucky this time. I guess one day of travelling and then 2 races immediately after you arrive doesn’t exactly leave you in good shape to fight the flu.

Even though I felt groggy and tired, I was able to pull off a fairly good 5km classic race in Germany to come 2nd. After the race I didn’t feel so hot though. Lunch wasn’t settling well, and by the time I was 1 hour into a 5 hour drive to Lavignio, Italy, I was doubled over in stomach cramps.
I got the privilege of driving in the cargo van with coaches Eric Bailey and Lee Churchill. I was actually looking forward to the drive (well, at least as much as I can look forward to a 5 hour drive, which pretty much rests at the low point of the tolerability scale). Eric and Lee are fun, but on this drive, things were definitely not fun.

At the height of my stomach pains we got pulled over by the cops for suspicious looking behaviour. Here’s my theory- 2 middle-aged, foreign men with a pretty young girl (I might be playing it up here, but just go with me) sitting in between them who looks horribly miserable… or potentially drugged… are driving a cargo van with Swedish plates. We are rolling backwards in an intersection because we think we are too close to the lights and we come close to hitting them because we can’t see what’s behind us. They pull us over and want to see our license, insurance and registration. We can’t find it ANYWHERE! I’m absolutely no help because every time I try to move I think I’m going to yak. I just sit with my forehead on the dashboard while Eric frantically searches the van and they look in the back.

“Why so many skis?” they ask. “There are only 3 of you.” The van is packed with at least 30 pairs of skiis. “Why the Swedish plates? Why no registration”? “What’s with the girl”? Explaining all of this in English-Italian is very difficult. I was sure they were going to make our day a nightmare, but after 15 minutes of Eric searching for a non-existent registration form they basically said they had no time for us and sent us on our way. Incredible!

Then we stopped at a gas station and Eric poured diesel all over himself. One minute of sitting in that van with him and I told him he needed to get out and change. Thank god he did or we would have shown up in Lavignio looking like we were completely high- perhaps we would have even been pulled over by the cops again.
So I’ll stop there because this is long enough and I want to go shopping. Bon jorno.. . or something, ‘till tomorrow

Looking Back

This past weekend the Under 23 and World Junior Trials were held in Valcartier. Young athletes that win races at these events are nominated to represent the Canadian team in Hinterzarten, Germany for World Championships. Valcartier brought back some very special memories for me. 4 years ago I skied the same race trails in Valcartier. It was my first NORMA and first World Junior Trials ever. My eyes were wide open to everything. I was 18, nervous, excited, inspired, and completely unaware of almost everything they were about.
There were skiers with sponsors on their jackets, wax techs running here and there, coaches speaking in French and English, newspaper articles about the races, and press for the high profile athletes. There was one suit that stood out in particular- the big red one with CANADA on the back. I squealed when I realized some of National Team skiers were there.
I met Eric Bailey (the infamous NTDC coach and, little did I know, my future coach). I’d heard about him and finally got to meet him. He had a big smile, smelled like coffee, and was chewing candy… haha pretty typical! I admired his athletes. I knew all of their names and what parts of Ontario they were from. I didn’t know any of the other juniors except Kate Brennan- a fellow competitor of mine who was super fast and I admired greatly. I followed her red hair around while pre-skiing the courses. She won the first race handily. I skied to an ecstatic 3rd place finish. To this day it is still one of the hardest races I remember racing.
Of course, being the third junior that day, I had expectations for the sprint the following day. I was pretty sure they made a mistake when the results came in saying I was 30th- that is until I raced my quarter final and got shelled. The entire heat had crossed the finish line before I had even started to climb the hill into the stadium. I’m not exaggerating. I have a picture to prove it! I was outraged, so I put on my runners and hammered intervals out on the road!

A photo from sprint day

The last race was a 10k pursuit. I remember plugging in my headphones and listening to “Dancing in the Moonlight” all the way to the race course that morning. The lines were something like “feeling warm and bright… everything will be alright, Dancing in the moonlight” seemed to help me hold down breakfast. I surprised more people than just myself that day. By the end of the classic leg, I was the first junior by a minute and was skiing in the middle of the open women’s field. When it came time to make the transition from skate to classic, I threw off my classic skis and poles and left them in the middle of the stadium… right in the track where everyone was skiing. Then I ran to my transition box and put on my skate equipment. There were lots of coaches wondering who I was and how I could be so clueless, and a lot of athletes that were probably pretty irritated about whoever’s equipment was in the middle of the track. Usually a racer who did that would be disqualified after their race, but the officials understood that it was my first pursuit and I had just won it by a few minutes.

Dasha and Perri Racing

I remember meeting Alain Parent, the Junior National Team coach for the first time. He was French, dressed in red, and for some reason a little bit intimidating. He told me that I needed to put my skis in my box when I raced in Slovenia…. I just stared at him. I remember hugging Perianne Jones at the finish line, what an honour that was! I remember talking to Dave Nighbor during the awards ceremony. I had just spent the entire weekend gawking at him while he won half the races! I also remember seeing Brent on the podium and thinking, “wow, he is a good looking guy!” And then there was Dasha- tall, Russian, intimidating… a goddess! She had won everything that weekend.
Haha, oh how times have changed. My second trip to Valcartier was a completely different experience. It was just after Olympic trials. Everything seemed so low key and fun. Now I was skiing on the back of Dasha’s skis instead of seeing her go into the finish while I went into the lap lane. Brent is now my boyfriend of 3 years, Perri my teammate and good friend, Nighbor one of Brent’s best friends. Alain Parent is Pate’s coach (Pate is one of my best friends and was currently my boyfriend on Valcartier trip #1).

The podium, I'm second from the right

I am currently sitting in a hotel room in Lavignio, Italy. It’s my 4th U23/WJ trip. No longer am I the gunny pig, but instead feel a little more like a role model for the youngsters on the team. It’s fun to meet the new Juniors. Their fresh faces, exuberance, and nervousness give me energy. I’m going to try to make them feel as welcome as the team made me feel when I was their age. Man, it sounds like I’m getting old! I think it’s important to reflect on the past, especially in hard times. It really helps me to see how much I’ve grown and gives me a fresh perspective. Alright, enough of this chitter chatter… from now on only short updates with pictures!

Me racing 10k classic

My Own 10k TT= Alberta Cup

I decided to try some new race prep this weekend, but unfortunately I’m not going to be able to test it out. Tomorrow’s 10k skate race is probably going to be cancelled because they’re predicting a high of MINUS 20! Ouch! Today was just supposed to be an easy day so I didn’t register for the sprint this weekend. However, my easy day will now become a hard one as I head out to do my own little 10k time trial this afternoon. There’s just too much risk in holding out until tomorrow. Even if I raced tomorrow, I would fry my lungs- not exactly a bonus with trials coming next week. I did a long ski yesterday, but I feel like I have some good jam in my legs today. On Monday we drive into the deep freeze for Olympic Trials!

West Yellowstone- Race 1

The 10 hr drive over here passed surprisingly fast. Watched the Devil Wears Prada, the World Cup Relay, and the Hangover. Thank god for movies! The town reminds me of Whitehorse. The streets are big enough for a 4 lane highway and covered with snow. Snowmobiles and skiers are everywhere, and if it wasn’t for the Yellowstone Ski Festival, the town would be dead.

Today was a classic sprint. 4 reasons why it doesn’t count for a real race:
1) it’s just a qualifier. One short, hard effort and you’re done. No rounds. Never done that before!
2) the course was 2 k long. What is with that? Everyone knows sprints are supposed to be around 1!
3) It was point to point, so no actual stadium or loop (biathlon race on our race course)
4) It was a narrow, one track only, fairly flat course.

Well, you all know sprinting is my specialty. I thought I’d make improvement on that this year. Unfortunately, I’m developing a really annoying habit of falling on my butt in all my classic sprints. Today was no exception. The great thing was the body felt good. I opened up hard and was skiing strong. I was warned about the downhills, but was also told they could be skied agressively. I decided from all my timidness on downhills last year that it was time to take em like a man. I tired my best, but before I knew it I had way too much speed into the corner. I didn’t shove on the breaks, I tried to step turn. It was ice, so instead I just slid right off the course and into a tree. My ski got stuck up in the air and getting it out was a real pain. I figured I’d just lost the race so I gethered myself up and mosied on up the hill at what felt like a snails pace. After that I kinda snapped back in action. What’s the point of dragging yourself around a course if you’re not going as hard as you can? Nothing. So I put the steam back on to the finish.

I’m not very disappointed because part of me said the race was a bit of a gong show from the start and hard to take seriously. At least I know I’m in good shape. And that’s all that matters.

Racin Friday- 10k skate. Sat 5 k classic.
Chow till then!

Camping? No one said we were Camping!?

Sunday was a long awaited day off training. The coaches organized for us to go to Yosemite. I knew it was famous, but famous for what, I wasn’t sure. Wildlife and nature, that was an obvious, and when places are famous, they also tend to be touristy. I’d heard rumour of little shops and stuff from some of the people who’d been there before, so I set out for the drive that morning in a pair of cute little flats, some Capri pants with a stylish belt, and a dressy fall jacket. I brought some warm clothes because we were going to be sleeping in a place the boys called “tent city”. They said it was a village with- word for word- “luxury tents”. When asked if they could describe a little more they said they were heated, with wood floors, a couple beds, and a night table with a light. Sounded sweet to me!
I was a little shocked to step out of the van to find out we were in a National Park where everything was outdoors. A meeting with the check in lady clarified everything when she said, “no food, no toiletries, no smelly perfume. All that goes in the bearproof storage lockers.” Tent city, or Curry Village, was hundreds of small canvas tents with plastic beds and no outlets. I felt stupid in my outfit and leather purse. Don’t get me wrong, I can camp, I can live rustic… I love that stuff! But when you think you’re going to a small little town to drink some coffee and have a nice afternoon shopping, well that is a different story.
The afternoon was lovely. We walked along some of the park paths (I had to take my shoes off because they were giving me blisters) and sunned ourselves on rocks. It was a lovely afternoon until the sun went down. Supper at the food court was sub-par, and then it was time for sleeping. Even with three blankets I was freezing. 11pm came, then 12, the 2, then 3:15 (by this time I was almost in tears). I finally lulled off at 4am only to wake up at 6:20. I’ve never looked forward to my alarm going off so much in my life.
I felt like crap, but we had an exciting hike ahead of us, so I decided to put my runners on and prep for a 5hr training day. We went up half-dome, a famous hike in the area.
My brain wasn’t functioning so well by the end, and I ended up twisting my ankle on a rock. Luckily I was close to the end, and was able to make it back to the van. I have a day off today to rest it. I think it should be ok by tomorrow. I feel pretty crappy today anyway from the horrible previous night. Plus, it’snowing like the diddy outside again!