The funny story of my ski race
Yesterday was the Mora Vasaloppet. My first ski marathon. 58k of fun. I was a bit anxious about this race as 58k is a long ways to ski and much farther than I've skied at one time before. However, the race in Mora doesn't have any really big climbs or really big downhills so it isn't an intimidating race from the perspective of terrain.
Race Highlights -
So there I was standing in the back of the start area just 5 minutes away from the start. I'd taken the bus from town, made my stop at the porta-potties, drank some energy drink, stood by the wood fires, and finally taken off my warm up pants and jacket and gotten rid of my drop bag. After all that I took my skis and poles over to the start area, found an spot at the back (technically in the area for those planning to ski a time of 4 1/2 hours), put on my skis and strapped on my poles.
After putting on my poles I felt that something was wrong. As I planted them in the snow they just seemed wrong. However, they looked like my poles . . . yellow and black Toko poles. However, as I contemplated them I realized they seemed really tall. I stood them up next to me and the were as tall as me. I looked at them closer and closer and I realized that they weren't my poles. With a sinking feeling I realized they were Dave's skate poles not mine. My mind was spinning like crazy with this information. In the end I realized that I was in Mora, MN and my poles were back in Madison, WI and that instead Dave's identical (except for 7 inch longer) poles were with me.
At this point they are announcing that we're just minutes away from starting the race. My mind races with what to do. I'm set to start a race with poles that are 7 inches too long and it is a 58k race which I already thought was a stretch for me. First thoughts are whether I can even do this. Should I quit and try to get a ride back to town? Maybe I should just do the 35k. Maybe I could skate the whole 58k with no poles or maybe I could hold the shaft of the poles. As they started the star spangled banner I looked down at the toe of my boot where I had written "believe" and realized that having the wrong poles was just a minor set back. I could do still do this.
And with that decision the race starts and 900 skiers stream off the line. I can't say that I made a tremendous start. I moved up some from the back but even double poling felt awkward. Before long people started skating (too soon if you ask me but that's a blog post for another day) but I just kept double poling. I was determined to not skewer anyone with my too long poles and double poling seemed the least likely to get me in trouble.
Luckily after about 1/2 mile the 35k and the 58k race split. And with that split the track went from intensely congested to basically empty since about 2/3 of the freestyle racers at the Vasaloppet do the 35k. Once the split occurred I was able to have a fairly uncongested track to practice poling. I quickly realized that as along as I remembered to raise the poles up high I would be fine. Of course I also quickly realized that my arms were going to get really tired doing that.
The first part of the 58k course was a bit of a surprise to me. A few years ago I had done the 35k which was basically flat with one significant climb. The 58k has some rolling hills in the first part of the event although nothing huge. It's a nice blend of terrain that lets a person use all of the various ski techniques. It was also pretty nice as you felt like you had the trail to yourself back where I was. There were people around but you were only passing or being passed on occasion.
The first aid station was at 8k and it felt like you got to it really quickly. It seemed pretty fast so I opted for a quick glass of gatorade and a glass of water to chase it down. Then I was on my way again as I knew the next aid station was only 5k later. At the next aid station I made a longer stop as I stopped for a Gu and some water. At this point I was getting used to the poles and on the long flat sections could get into a rhythm. Sure I once and awhile would totally mess up the poling but other than feeling like a dork it was working. The high school boys at the aid station told me my shoulders were going to get really tired skiing with such long poles. You could tell they thought it was funny that I had the wrong poles and was going to have to ski 58k that way.
The next section between aid stations was 13.5k and I spent most of it just watching for the signs that told you how many kilometers were left in the race. I was especially interested in getting to 35k to go as somehow in my mind it was important to get to the distance of the shorter race. I felt pretty good in this section and it was cool to see the signs go by for 41, 40, 39, 38, etc.
As the numbers went by I was definitely ready for the next aid station as I could tell my energy was going down. At 31.5k you finally get to the next aid station. This was the funniest stop and I doubt I'll soon be forgotten by the people volunteering. At this point in the race I'm skiing all by myself and as I approach the aid station there isn't any other skier there so all the volunteers are watching me as I ski toward them. As I approach I pop off my right pole from the hand grip like I had done at all the previous aid stations to make it easier to grab my Gu and my water. However, for some reason I thought it would be even more efficient if I also released my left pole from the grip. I had forgotten that Dave's poles had a problem and if you pulled up the release tab it sometimes came completely off the pole.
Of course, this is what happened to me. The yellow tab that holds the grip on completely came off and fell into the snow. So with all the volunteers watching I had to stop, turn around and ski back to where the yellow tab was laying in the snow. Once I turn around again and start skiing back towards the aid station they are all staring at me incredulously. I made a joke about not being sure if I wanted to continue on before I explained my situation and asked for some help getting the tab back into the slot on the poles. Needless to say I spent a bit of time at the aid station between turning around, explaining to a guy how to fix my pole and then finally downing some gu and water.
During the next section of the race I surprisingly skied with a group who had caught up to me as I hung out at the aid station. It was a good group and we each had our strengths and weaknesses that made us of similar speed. I would say that I was the best hill climber and would catch them on the inclines. One woman was strong on the flats but fell twice on the downhills (where each time I would have to almost come to stop to avoid hitting her). Another guy was fast on the flats as well but was slow on even the mildest incline. Another woman was moderately good at everything but I would usually gain some ground on the uphills and downhills. Another guy would speed up and slow down a bit but overall I thought he was the fastest of our group as he always was just ahead of us and would speed up when we got closer to him.
At one point we passed a road crossing and one of the people sitting there either volunteering or just watching asked my group if we were the last skiers. I laughed and told him we sure close to that. However, the one woman was right behind me and she was a bit upset by that comment. She fumed about that for a while as we skied by. I thought it was funny and wished I'd have told him that we certainly weren't in the lead.
As we skied on I finally passed the one guy just after a slight uphill where he had alternated a little V1 with some singlestick skiing while I was V2ing the hill. I passed him somewhere around 26k to go probably. I passed the one woman soon after that when she fell on a downhill and then I didn't see her again. The other woman who was more of an all around skier started to slow on one really long flat section and I double poled by her and fully expected to have her stay right behind me. However, she didn't and I skied away from her and didn't see her again either. The one faster guy I eventually caught as well. I skied behind him for awhile but he kept slowing down so finally I passed him and never saw him again either.
By about 22k to go I was skiing all by myself with the whole trail to enjoy and no one to worry about being in the way of behind me and no one to worry about in front of me. It's a weird feeling to be in a ski race and to have a beautiful trail all to yourself. It was kind of cool though. However, I was starting to feel tired. By 20k to go I was breaking down the race in my mind. At first I was telling myself to just think of it as 2 10ks or maybe 4 5ks or maybe just focus on clicking off 1k at a time.
As I was approaching the second to last aid station I could see one guy up ahead of me on the trail as there are long straight sections where you can see a long ways. Finally I get to the aid station where all the volunteers offer me things . . . blueberry soup, banana, orange, gatorade, water. I ski up to a friendly gentleman offering water and gatorade. It was pretty funny actually. As soon as I stop he tells me to think of him as my personal assistant and to just let him know what I want. I let him know I'll want some water. He's got that so I tell him I'll want it in just a second as I rip my Gu off my bib where it was stapled. He offered to open it for me but I told him I'd do it. He was awesome and I definitely spent a bit more time than needed chatting with him.
Finally I was off with around 15k to go. Seeing the numbers on the trail dipping below 15k was pretty sweet. I knew that was doable even though I was starting to feel a little tired. Once again I just skied along by myself with the occasional sight of the once skier in front of me when I would hit longer straight aways. This section had lots of little inclines and lots of times I would throw in some V1 skiing just because I was getting tired from all the V2ing and just needed to do something different. There were also plenty of sections where the sun had warmed up the snow and the skiers before me had sunk in leaving potholes in the snow to be avoided. There were also plenty of road crossings and driveway crossings where I just double poled through the dirty, slushy snow.
As I got closer to the finish I also started to see skiers from the 13k event that started later in the day. Some of the more beginner classic skiers were still out on the trail which made it nice as I had people to say hello to as I skied along. I even got some encouraging words from them once they realized I was a 58k skier.
As I got close to the last aid station at 7k to go I had almost caught up to the guy in front of me. At the last aid station I had a very friendly high school boy assisting me with my water. At this aid station I pulled out my Espresso Love Gu which packs twice the caffeine of regular Gu. My plan was to save this to the end so I could finish (and maybe even finish strong).
At 7k to go you know you're getting closer to town as there are more houses but yet it sort of feels like you're never going to get there. I just kept focusing on clicking off 1k at a time. Soon I had passed by the 5k to go but the next kilometer seemed to take forever. All I could think of was "where the f@ck is that town already". Yes, I was ready to be donee.
Finally with 2k or so to go you can see the water tower which is sweet relief. At this point it is just me and the 13k classic skiers heading into town. Somehow I had gotten in and out of the last aid station faster than the one guy who had been in front of me. Finally you get to the lake and you can hear the bell in the bell tower ringing which signifies you've almost made it. I hit the lake and force myself to V2 across what seems like a very long expanse. I try to pick up the pace when I see that there is a big group of beginner classic skiers ahead of me and I really want to hit the embankment up into town before them. If I don't I'm pretty sure we'll all come to a halt as they try to herringbone up it since it is a bit tricky and I knew it would have powdery, loose snow. Luckily I get there before the group and there is just one woman starting up it. It's plenty wide so I go the right and am impressed with how much easier it is than I remembered from last time. I guess that goes to show that my skiing has improved!
Once up the bank you are onto the streets of town. I break into a V2 as I start up towards the turn onto Main Street when I hear a loud burst of cheering from Dave, Shannon and Jim who have already finished their races and showered and are waiting for me to arrive. I keep up my V2 as I make the turn onto Main Street, I hear the finisher announce "Renee Callaway from Madison, WI" and the finish line person tells me that I've finished in 4 hours and 17 minutes.
All in all a pretty good day . . . . even with the pole mix up. I can assure you that I will be doing something to my poles so they are easier to differentiate from Dave's!
Next up the Birkie.
Race Highlights -
- Tall poles
- Skiing backwards on the course
- Friendly aid station stops
- Finishing 58k
So there I was standing in the back of the start area just 5 minutes away from the start. I'd taken the bus from town, made my stop at the porta-potties, drank some energy drink, stood by the wood fires, and finally taken off my warm up pants and jacket and gotten rid of my drop bag. After all that I took my skis and poles over to the start area, found an spot at the back (technically in the area for those planning to ski a time of 4 1/2 hours), put on my skis and strapped on my poles.
After putting on my poles I felt that something was wrong. As I planted them in the snow they just seemed wrong. However, they looked like my poles . . . yellow and black Toko poles. However, as I contemplated them I realized they seemed really tall. I stood them up next to me and the were as tall as me. I looked at them closer and closer and I realized that they weren't my poles. With a sinking feeling I realized they were Dave's skate poles not mine. My mind was spinning like crazy with this information. In the end I realized that I was in Mora, MN and my poles were back in Madison, WI and that instead Dave's identical (except for 7 inch longer) poles were with me.
At this point they are announcing that we're just minutes away from starting the race. My mind races with what to do. I'm set to start a race with poles that are 7 inches too long and it is a 58k race which I already thought was a stretch for me. First thoughts are whether I can even do this. Should I quit and try to get a ride back to town? Maybe I should just do the 35k. Maybe I could skate the whole 58k with no poles or maybe I could hold the shaft of the poles. As they started the star spangled banner I looked down at the toe of my boot where I had written "believe" and realized that having the wrong poles was just a minor set back. I could do still do this.
And with that decision the race starts and 900 skiers stream off the line. I can't say that I made a tremendous start. I moved up some from the back but even double poling felt awkward. Before long people started skating (too soon if you ask me but that's a blog post for another day) but I just kept double poling. I was determined to not skewer anyone with my too long poles and double poling seemed the least likely to get me in trouble.
Luckily after about 1/2 mile the 35k and the 58k race split. And with that split the track went from intensely congested to basically empty since about 2/3 of the freestyle racers at the Vasaloppet do the 35k. Once the split occurred I was able to have a fairly uncongested track to practice poling. I quickly realized that as along as I remembered to raise the poles up high I would be fine. Of course I also quickly realized that my arms were going to get really tired doing that.
The first part of the 58k course was a bit of a surprise to me. A few years ago I had done the 35k which was basically flat with one significant climb. The 58k has some rolling hills in the first part of the event although nothing huge. It's a nice blend of terrain that lets a person use all of the various ski techniques. It was also pretty nice as you felt like you had the trail to yourself back where I was. There were people around but you were only passing or being passed on occasion.
The first aid station was at 8k and it felt like you got to it really quickly. It seemed pretty fast so I opted for a quick glass of gatorade and a glass of water to chase it down. Then I was on my way again as I knew the next aid station was only 5k later. At the next aid station I made a longer stop as I stopped for a Gu and some water. At this point I was getting used to the poles and on the long flat sections could get into a rhythm. Sure I once and awhile would totally mess up the poling but other than feeling like a dork it was working. The high school boys at the aid station told me my shoulders were going to get really tired skiing with such long poles. You could tell they thought it was funny that I had the wrong poles and was going to have to ski 58k that way.
The next section between aid stations was 13.5k and I spent most of it just watching for the signs that told you how many kilometers were left in the race. I was especially interested in getting to 35k to go as somehow in my mind it was important to get to the distance of the shorter race. I felt pretty good in this section and it was cool to see the signs go by for 41, 40, 39, 38, etc.
As the numbers went by I was definitely ready for the next aid station as I could tell my energy was going down. At 31.5k you finally get to the next aid station. This was the funniest stop and I doubt I'll soon be forgotten by the people volunteering. At this point in the race I'm skiing all by myself and as I approach the aid station there isn't any other skier there so all the volunteers are watching me as I ski toward them. As I approach I pop off my right pole from the hand grip like I had done at all the previous aid stations to make it easier to grab my Gu and my water. However, for some reason I thought it would be even more efficient if I also released my left pole from the grip. I had forgotten that Dave's poles had a problem and if you pulled up the release tab it sometimes came completely off the pole.
Of course, this is what happened to me. The yellow tab that holds the grip on completely came off and fell into the snow. So with all the volunteers watching I had to stop, turn around and ski back to where the yellow tab was laying in the snow. Once I turn around again and start skiing back towards the aid station they are all staring at me incredulously. I made a joke about not being sure if I wanted to continue on before I explained my situation and asked for some help getting the tab back into the slot on the poles. Needless to say I spent a bit of time at the aid station between turning around, explaining to a guy how to fix my pole and then finally downing some gu and water.
During the next section of the race I surprisingly skied with a group who had caught up to me as I hung out at the aid station. It was a good group and we each had our strengths and weaknesses that made us of similar speed. I would say that I was the best hill climber and would catch them on the inclines. One woman was strong on the flats but fell twice on the downhills (where each time I would have to almost come to stop to avoid hitting her). Another guy was fast on the flats as well but was slow on even the mildest incline. Another woman was moderately good at everything but I would usually gain some ground on the uphills and downhills. Another guy would speed up and slow down a bit but overall I thought he was the fastest of our group as he always was just ahead of us and would speed up when we got closer to him.
At one point we passed a road crossing and one of the people sitting there either volunteering or just watching asked my group if we were the last skiers. I laughed and told him we sure close to that. However, the one woman was right behind me and she was a bit upset by that comment. She fumed about that for a while as we skied by. I thought it was funny and wished I'd have told him that we certainly weren't in the lead.
As we skied on I finally passed the one guy just after a slight uphill where he had alternated a little V1 with some singlestick skiing while I was V2ing the hill. I passed him somewhere around 26k to go probably. I passed the one woman soon after that when she fell on a downhill and then I didn't see her again. The other woman who was more of an all around skier started to slow on one really long flat section and I double poled by her and fully expected to have her stay right behind me. However, she didn't and I skied away from her and didn't see her again either. The one faster guy I eventually caught as well. I skied behind him for awhile but he kept slowing down so finally I passed him and never saw him again either.
By about 22k to go I was skiing all by myself with the whole trail to enjoy and no one to worry about being in the way of behind me and no one to worry about in front of me. It's a weird feeling to be in a ski race and to have a beautiful trail all to yourself. It was kind of cool though. However, I was starting to feel tired. By 20k to go I was breaking down the race in my mind. At first I was telling myself to just think of it as 2 10ks or maybe 4 5ks or maybe just focus on clicking off 1k at a time.
As I was approaching the second to last aid station I could see one guy up ahead of me on the trail as there are long straight sections where you can see a long ways. Finally I get to the aid station where all the volunteers offer me things . . . blueberry soup, banana, orange, gatorade, water. I ski up to a friendly gentleman offering water and gatorade. It was pretty funny actually. As soon as I stop he tells me to think of him as my personal assistant and to just let him know what I want. I let him know I'll want some water. He's got that so I tell him I'll want it in just a second as I rip my Gu off my bib where it was stapled. He offered to open it for me but I told him I'd do it. He was awesome and I definitely spent a bit more time than needed chatting with him.
Finally I was off with around 15k to go. Seeing the numbers on the trail dipping below 15k was pretty sweet. I knew that was doable even though I was starting to feel a little tired. Once again I just skied along by myself with the occasional sight of the once skier in front of me when I would hit longer straight aways. This section had lots of little inclines and lots of times I would throw in some V1 skiing just because I was getting tired from all the V2ing and just needed to do something different. There were also plenty of sections where the sun had warmed up the snow and the skiers before me had sunk in leaving potholes in the snow to be avoided. There were also plenty of road crossings and driveway crossings where I just double poled through the dirty, slushy snow.
As I got closer to the finish I also started to see skiers from the 13k event that started later in the day. Some of the more beginner classic skiers were still out on the trail which made it nice as I had people to say hello to as I skied along. I even got some encouraging words from them once they realized I was a 58k skier.
As I got close to the last aid station at 7k to go I had almost caught up to the guy in front of me. At the last aid station I had a very friendly high school boy assisting me with my water. At this aid station I pulled out my Espresso Love Gu which packs twice the caffeine of regular Gu. My plan was to save this to the end so I could finish (and maybe even finish strong).
At 7k to go you know you're getting closer to town as there are more houses but yet it sort of feels like you're never going to get there. I just kept focusing on clicking off 1k at a time. Soon I had passed by the 5k to go but the next kilometer seemed to take forever. All I could think of was "where the f@ck is that town already". Yes, I was ready to be donee.
Finally with 2k or so to go you can see the water tower which is sweet relief. At this point it is just me and the 13k classic skiers heading into town. Somehow I had gotten in and out of the last aid station faster than the one guy who had been in front of me. Finally you get to the lake and you can hear the bell in the bell tower ringing which signifies you've almost made it. I hit the lake and force myself to V2 across what seems like a very long expanse. I try to pick up the pace when I see that there is a big group of beginner classic skiers ahead of me and I really want to hit the embankment up into town before them. If I don't I'm pretty sure we'll all come to a halt as they try to herringbone up it since it is a bit tricky and I knew it would have powdery, loose snow. Luckily I get there before the group and there is just one woman starting up it. It's plenty wide so I go the right and am impressed with how much easier it is than I remembered from last time. I guess that goes to show that my skiing has improved!
Once up the bank you are onto the streets of town. I break into a V2 as I start up towards the turn onto Main Street when I hear a loud burst of cheering from Dave, Shannon and Jim who have already finished their races and showered and are waiting for me to arrive. I keep up my V2 as I make the turn onto Main Street, I hear the finisher announce "Renee Callaway from Madison, WI" and the finish line person tells me that I've finished in 4 hours and 17 minutes.
All in all a pretty good day . . . . even with the pole mix up. I can assure you that I will be doing something to my poles so they are easier to differentiate from Dave's!
Next up the Birkie.
posted by MadCross at 7:31 AM
1 Comments:
Way to push through and finish the race with your long poles! That's a lot of distance to cover with the wrong equipment - I'm impressed with your determination! Your positive attitude is awesome - best of luck in the Birkie!
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