Training Log Archive: iansmith

Event: 33rd West Point A Meet
 

West Point Middle Distance race. A decent race, but revealing in its flaws. I was only partly successful in not running aggressively, but I was slower and more relaxed than I would have been with a healthy foot. I was intimately attuned to sensations from Gimpy Foot, and I was very careful during motions like uphills which inclined my foot upward with lots of force on the toes.

I was clean though cautious and somewhat hesitant through the first eleven controls apart from a bobble at 9 where I struggled to localize the control among vegetation on an elongated knoll. I really messed up 12 - Eddie caught up to me after crossing the stream, and my attack was poor. I passed right over it, but I had difficulty matching up the features around me. My stamina started to wane near the end, and I was slow on the remaining controls. I bobbled 13 - I didn't parse the terrain well and overshot, but was otherwise clean. I really hesitated running into 17.

After the race, while my foot was somewhat discomforted - perhaps from lack of use, I didn't seem to sustain any damage. Earlier in the week, I requested these races not contribute to my ranking, so I erred on the side of discretion and sat out the sprint and long.

Wyatt loaned me the Boot of Asclepius, which has cured both him and Sam of their plantar fasciitis.

Warmup to the start. My focus was scattered, and I wasn't in a race mindset. Part of that was lack of preparedness, but part was trying to will myself to run the course gingerly and not injure my foot. I forgot to tape my laces, and I lacked a control description holder as all mine had deteriorated.

When I ran into Magnus at the start (who did not know that I was running), he greeted me with a smirk and a disapproving shake of his head.

Blue Middle - Splits

Cruising about Cambridge. I have been biking to work this week, but my commute is of an intensity lower than my minimum for logging. This was an explicit workout, though I did have to stop for traffic lights.

In more exciting news, I have acquired a kite.

C • I love kites! 5

I am feeling pretty good in the aftermath of the canoe race; the soreness in my shoulders, arms, back, and core peaked on Monday. There is one spot on my left shoulder where it still feels like I was punched hard; I suppose I could have strained something while fighting the wind. Hopefully it won't interfere with the West Point pullup showdown.

My foot continues its convalescence, and I will resume biking as training until I am comfortable running again. I sometimes revisit that haunting possibility - that maybe I will not achieve my goals, that my pattern of breaking and falling short will continue until my potential is wasted away. I cannot discount that possibility, but I will not be swayed from my quest. An orienteering career, or indeed any pursuit, cannot be adequately summarized by its peak accolade. I will recover and set my sights on the next challenge. I imagine that at the end, the journey will have more than justified the apparent sacrifice, though this is a speculative estimation of my utility function.

I recently revisited my 2011 Blue Hills Traverse course for kicks; while I think it's one of my best courses, it almost killed everyone because it was too long. I'm sure it couldn't compete with Jeff Schapiro's Billygoat (especially since there was the Short 10.7 km option), but I was a bit overzealous. I look forward to the 2012 race!

C • Break the pattern? 4

C • the pullup comp is at WP? nuts! 3

C • Sacrifice? 3

We choose to go to the Moon.

C • amen 1

Event: NEOC: Mt. Misery
 

Keith and I raced in the 30th Run of the Charles race, in the intermediate 19-mile distance. I hadn't paddled at all, apart from yesterday, in six months, but I felt strong. After Keith's friend Josh graciously drove us to the start (and then deposited Keith's car at the finish), we went through pre-race preparation: registration, taping our Gu to the interior of the boat for easy access, loading energy juice™, applying sunscreen, and chatting with Aims. Ours was the third or fourth mass start behind the pros racing the 26-mile course and the C1s on the 19. The start line was narrow, so we hung back about two boat lengths to avoid the congestion. I rowed paddled stern; with my longer legs, it was easier for Keith to move forward in the bow, make a larger moment, and increase our stability.

The first nine miles of the race felt great. The river was narrow and twisty, and steering a good line and hugging the turns was the main objective. We had a comfortable, steady cadence of around 60 and flirted with 6 miles per hour. My technique was sloppy from lack of practice. I had minor difficulty with steering - I tended to overcompensate and underdamp our oscillations, but I improved.

The 9-mile race started at Auburndale about 1:40 after our start, and we saw the K1s starting as we passed the Charles River Canoe and Kayak boathouse. Unfortunately, shortly after crossing north of I-90, we hit some large patches of open water, and the formerly stiff wind became murderous. Even with longer strokes to minimize the effect of the wind, paddling as hard as I could, I was unable to bring our bow to the right whenever we drifted left. We solved the obstacle by having both of us paddle on the left, and I would occasionally rudder. I imagine that because I wasn't very efficient with applying lots of power, but it was incredibly frustrating and tiring.

My muscles were a bit wasted after the open water fun times in kilometers 11-12, but I recovered a bit after the portage at 12. We capsized just after the portage at km 13 foolishly. We had hopped in the boat and launched, and I wasn't secured. The current was swift due to the obstacle we portaged around, I wasn't attentive, and when our bow caught the current and the stern the slow water, we spun. I failed to correct our list, and we went in. We were near shore and probably lost at most a minute, though our dignity was sacrificed.

We were concerned about passing the broken dam at Bridge street, at which the current massively increases and there are obstacles. We checked it out yesterday and had a decent plan. When we came upon it during the race, it looked so different from a boat that I didn't recognize it and had no fear as we descended. Keith, however, was apprehensive, and overcorrected as we entered the fast flow. He drew the bow too far to the right, and it hit slow water - we spun again but were alert and didn't spill.

The last forty five minutes was a death slog, and I just concentrated on each stroke, keeping us on course, and not flipping. We had a spirited race with two other C2s from the 19- and 9-mile races, and the 19er of two women pulled ahead. As the finish neared, we attacked with all our remaining energy, but finished two seconds behind them.

During the race, I took four Gus and about a liter of energy juice; I was spent by the end, and in the aftermath, my back and shoulders are wrecked. It was a lot of fun, though of course, I would have preferred to have run the Billygoat. Gimpyfoot held up perfectly fine during the portages, and I jogged on it a bit just before the race.

Kudos to our fellow 19-milers Aims Coney, the Miller brothers, and Andy Hall. Andy brought his A game (or so it would seem), finished 2nd among the C2s with his 67-year old partner, and smoked Keith and me by over 40 minutes.

C • 198m climb 5

C • Row? 3