And They Call this Training?

Jeremy Teela put this little clip together. Jeremy and Billy are off to Europe for some hot XC action in preparation for the Olympics. Good luck.

Alta Pre Season from J Teela on Vimeo.

5x4 Interval Session

I did an intensity session this morning -- 5x4 intervals, and about 22 minutes of "on-time." I would like to work up to a 8 interval block by mid-December. Some notes:

- I went too hard on the first interval. What is weird is that on a Perceived Exertion scale (1-10), I felt it was an 8 whereas Interval 4 I felt was a 9.5.

- Ideally, I would like to get faster throughout the session, not slower, like I did. My understanding is that you get more quality "on-time" if you can have negative split intervals.

- I couldn't push past a HR of 184. I've seen 198 on a bike. Maybe the intervals aren't long enough, or maybe skiing is different than biking. Has anyone figured out their Max HR, Skiing/Running vs. Biking?

- I wish I could do ski intervals at a lower elevation.

Snow!

Ski training has been tough with the marginal snow lately.  It was good to get some more.  First tracks this morning.

From November 14, 2009

Mid-chute, watching the sun creep across the valley. 

From November 14, 2009

Brett is a jumper, so naturally, he teles.

From November 14, 2009

Billy D incorporating some BC/tele into his Vancouver 2010 training regimen.  I think this is like BC/tele hour 9 this week. 

From November 14, 2009

This was the last we saw of the sun.  After that, the storm rolled in. 

From November 14, 2009

Function Over Style And Other Reasons Why I Occasionally Wear Women's Clothing

I've mentioned a number of times that occasionally I wear women's things. (If you are a weirdo (by my standards) that stumbled on this site by googling "men wear women's things," this isn't what you were looking for, go away.) Someone recently asked me, "So how many women's pieces do you actually have?" I'd better not disclose that publicly. But I will say that my gear collection includes a range of women specific skis, harnnesses (ouch -- didn't work out so well), boots, packs, socks,and underwear. The answer as to why I buy that stuff is pretty simple: cost and functionality. If it's cheap and if it will help me get the job done, it's worth it. I should also mention that I am not large in stature and sometimes women's pieces actually fit better. To be clear -- very clear -- if I have a choice between man-gear and woman-gear, and it's the same price and serves an identical function, I will choose man-gear 100 percent of the time.

With that subject out of the way, perhaps the more interesting question is: why do I disclose to my partners (no, not that kind -- this is getting weird) that I am wearing women-specific-gear? Why don't I simply and smugly relish in the fact that I scored a great deal on a functional piece of gear? Well, I've thought about that, and here are a few explanations, none of which is necessarily applicable to me, that come to mind:

A) Trust me, it's not like that. In the harsh environments in which I recreate, I want my partners to be as focused as possible. I want them to fully trust me as I trust them. I can't afford to be a distraction. I don't want them feeling like they have to look over their shoulder, if you know what I mean. So when I show up wearing powder blue clothing or maybe even something with a purplish hue, I don't want my partner to be distracted. I don't want my partner thinking: Is he . . . .? So, I take the proactive, preemptive, cut-to-the-chase, full disclosure approach: yes, I am wearing women's underwear. It fits and it's functional. Can we rip this trail/slope now?

B) The Dirt-Bagger Proclamation. Amongst some mountain people, there is an ethos in which dirtbaggerness is a virtue. Dirtbaggerness is a true counter culture in which renunciation of normal cultural material ambitions in favor of roaming freely in the wilderness (with cool gear, of course) is the standard. What you paid for something is not what impresses; rather, it's what you didn't pay for something. Thus, my proclamation that I use/wear women-specific gear is often a crowd pleaser amongst the mountain dirt-bag folk. It demonstrates a dirt-bagger ethos in a number of ways -- he is willing to wear a woman's scoopneck, pastel green shirt, and subject himself to the ridicule of the stylish brethren, just to have means to pursue his passion! Cool dude.

C)Beat This! I am the first to admit that I am competitive to a fault. Sometimes, it's hard not to look at the scoreboard of Tuff-ness. There are all kinds of games of Tuff and in my realm such games can range from climbing or descending this or that in x amount of time without this or that kind of aid, to death marches across the Grand Canyon (see below). One thing that is hard to compete with, however, is the tuffness of wearing women's clothing/gear. It's a statement that you are confident and Tuff and simply don't care about what people might think of your appearance. In many circles, it's simply too hard to compete with a man comfortable in women's underwear.  So when I say competitive to a fault, I mean so competitive that I'm willing to invent a game in which only I am likely to play.  Lame, I know.

In conclusion, I'd like to help you out, whether you are man or woman. I recently scored a pair of Scarpa Divas for $90. Yep, $675 boots that were basically brand new for $90. (I'm taking this at a Dirtbagger angle, see B above.) If you look closely, Scarpa Divas (woman) are essentially Spirit 4s (man), but with different colors, and with a volume-reducing insole that is removeable. I don't know that for sure, but I have a pretty good reason to believe that is the case. While you probably won't get the Dirtbagging deal that I got (I'm now taking the Beat This! angle, see C above.), you can get a pretty decent deal on some women-specific boots that could very well suit your needs.

Sierra Trading Post is selling some Scarpa Divas (Spirit 4s) and some Scarpa Star Lites (Spirit 3s) at a decent discount.  If you subscribe to their Deal Flyer, you could probably get an additional 20 percent off and free shipping.  That's more than 50 percent off retail.

Grand Canyon: Rim to Rim

From October 30, 2009

On Friday, I ran (mostly) from the North Rim of the Grand Canyon to the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. Because I'm not really a runner (the collar of my team bike jersey says, "Running is for Criminals"), it felt like a long way and now my feet hurt. But it was worth it and was a great adventure -- definitely something I'll remember for a long time.

We left the Wasatch front on Thursday night, drove to Panguitch, had dinner at the Cowboy Smokehouse (great restaurant!), proceeded to Kanab, then to Jacob's Lake. We got to Jacob's Lake Lodge about 1 am in the morning and slept for a few hours. 4 guys, 2 beds -- I can handle it. We got up at 5:30 am and drove 1 hr to the North Rim. When we got to the trailhead, it was 7 degrees.

From October 30, 2009

For whatever reason, I've never been to the Grand Canyon. I guess I've kind of thought that it was too touristy or too mainstream. I've been missing out. I was pretty much stunned as we descended the North Rim. "Grand" barely describes the the landscape and strata laid out before and under us.

From October 30, 2009

The trail from the North Rim descends from a little over 8000 feet to a little over 2000 feet. The first 3 or 4 miles are quite steep, so we fast walked this portion.

From October 30, 2009

I would stop and take pictures, then run and catch up with the group. In the photo below, you can see the group descending on the trail just as the sun began to hit the cliffs. Magical.

From October 30, 2009

After Cottonwood Campground, we ran. We ran through the "Box," a narrow canyon section that follows Bright Angel creek, which eventually empties into the Colorado River.

From October 30, 2009

Bob, stretching out after running through the Box.

From October 30, 2009

Barry and Bradley running out of the Box.

From October 30, 2009

By the time we hit the Canyon floor, the temperature had risen significantly. People were perspiring. And I could smell some major BO. As I was running through the Box, I was thinking, man, someone stinks. I haven't smelled that smell since Day 4 of the Pierra Menta -- after everyone had been wearing the same skinsuits for 4 days. It was strong. When we hit the Colorado River, I paused on the bridge to take it all in.

From October 30, 2009

As I was standing on the bridge -- all by myself -- I was surprised to smell the BO again. And it got me thinking: I am the only one on the bridge, I smell BO, it's definitely BO . . . wait, could it be me? I smelled my shirt. Gag. It was me! But it couldn't be me I thought. I know what I smell like. I've been smelling myself for 35 years. So I smelled my left armpit. Gag again. It was me! But no, it couldn't be.

So, there I stood on the middle of the bridge over the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon smelling one armpit and then the other. Frantically. What was going on? What did I eat? How could be happening? And then I figured it out. Last week, in preparation for this run, I bought a fancy running hydration pack at the REI garage sale. I made a point to choose the cleanest looking, least-used pack, and the one that I settled on was a woman's model. It fit, so I bought it. I should have sniffed it.

It turned out that as my perspiration soaked into the pack, it was bringing to life some rank BO spores or some wild-living-bad-smelling thing. Not only had my shirt been contaminated. My body seemed like it was emanating that bad BO. Gross. I was wearing a pack that belonged to a woman with really really bad BO. And now the BO was on me. Here I am, wearing the BO pack, comtemplating jumping in to the Colorado to cleanse myself. Oh, and the shirt also happens to be a Smartwool woman's model as well.

From October 30, 2009

Once you hit the Colorado River, the trail starts heading up again. There are two options to the South Rim, the South Kaibab and the Bright Angel trail, which we chose. We thought this sign was amusing, but a little misplaced since it is at the bottom of the Canyon.

From October 30, 2009

Before heading up, I scrubbed my pack and washed my shirt in a stream. I didn't put my shirt back on, and instead ran topless from the bottom of the Canyon to the top of the South Rim. Here's a shot with 4 really steep miles to go. South Rim is on the top.

From October 30, 2009

Unfortunately, because I was out of breath and because my camera got a bit wet during the BO cleanse, I didn't get many pictures of the south side. And I have to admit that I was unable to run 100 percent of the last 7 miles. I ran the first 5 miles, but as I gained altitude and as fatigue set in, I couldn't keep the legs going. The last 2 miles I would run a few hundred yards, then walk, then do the same again. By the time I hit the South Rim, my legs, particularly my feet and ankles were pretty well spent. The full trip was about 25 miles. As I sat at the top of the South Rim waiting for my compadres, I thought of the crazies who do a Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim. That would really hurt.

The reward for crossing the Grand Canyon was a 4 seat Piper Arrow waiting for us on the South Rim. While Rim to Rim by foot is less than 30 miles, Rim to Rim by car is 225 miles. Stan, the orchestrator of the trip, arranged for a plane to fly us back from the South Rim to Provo.

From October 30, 2009

Bye Grand Canyon. I'll be back.

Anyone want a pack?

Sundial

I was thinking of doing a scramble across the LCC ridge this morning, but called it off because it snowed. So I ran up to the Sundial. Running 3 miles downhill is about all I can take. Any trailrunners out there? Luke? Do you like running downhill? Does it hurt?

I've been doing a bit of unconventional (for me) training lately because I got sick again. I've been trying to prevent a sinus infection, so for the last 10 days or so that I've tried to avoid hard aerobic activity. Hence the climbing emphasis.

That said, the recent climbs and runs I've done in the mountains have been really refreshing. They've allowed me to see the mountains in a different way in a different season. Climbing crags on Olympus, Big Cottonwood, and Little Cottonwood, I've been able to move through the mountains in yet another form. Climbing the slabby granite of Lisa Falls the other day gave me a new appreciation for that same, but quite different Lisa Falls I skiied a few months ago. The cirque surrounded by Dromedary, Superior and the Sundial was just as surreal without snow as it is with snow.  I'm not quite certain what underlies my obsession (I admit it) with moving in the mountains. Of course, the mountains are beautiful. But it's more than that. For me, there's something very fulfilling about being able to move deep in the mountains elegantly -- speedliy, yet safely, under your own power. I suppose part of the attraction is the challenge. Whether it's on skis, on two wheels, in running shoes, or in a harness, elements of skill are required. It's fun to develop those skills to a point where they facilitate elegant movement. Another aspect of the challenge is the element of uncertainty. The faster and higher and deeper you go, the margin for error becomes smaller and smaller.  It's a challenge to know where you draw the line.

40 in 3

I think I've worked 40 hrs in 3 days, but I'm not sure because my head hurts. During times like this, video clips like this keep me sane: