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| View of the Wasatch mountains from the PNSA house outside Heber City, Utah |
The week of Championships is book-ended by sprint competitions; last Wednesday was the classic sprint and this Tuesday was a skate sprint, ending the series. The venue for the races was Soldier Hollow, Utah, site of the 2002 Olympic ski races. The venue lies at just under 6000' in elevation so it was imperative that we arrive early enough to acclimate a bit to the surroundings. The first few days after our arrival I certainly felt the limited oxygen, but my legs were fit and I was really motivated; never before had I gone to a Nationals feeling so confident in my abilities to actually win.
The classic sprint has never been my strongest event, and I went into the race last week with relaxed feelings; if I did well it was bonus; if not, it would be a good warm-up for my main event, the skate sprint. As it happened I felt pretty decent in the qualifier and finished in a tie for 5th position. I skied strong and relaxed through the quarters and moved through to the semis. The course at Soldier is a tricky one and largely dependent upon strategy in the final downhill corner; the pack can be splintered in the first half, only to come back together over a long, twenty-second downhill. This means that you have to manage your energy through the first 2/3rds of the course to be ready to really attack in the final stretch. Going into the semis I knew where I needed to be off that downhill, and also knew that to get caught in heavy traffic in the corner might prevent me from having clear real estate to make a finishing surge.
Out of the start I sat in the pack, comfortably double-poling. As we headed up the final climb before the long downhill I moved into second place without trying too hard, and focused on pushing hard over the top to gain momentum. I then employed a strategy which turned out to be the death-knell for me: I chose a line through the downhill which kept me clear of the main pack, but as it turned out I lost the draft and took a too-wide angle around the bottom corner. By the time we began sprinting over the crest and into the finishing stretch I was blocked out by three skiers in the lanes, and despite closing the gap I had nowhere to go and couldn't gain a top-3 position to move into the A final. I was disappointed, but focused on the B final, where I corrected my mistakes and came into the finish for a 9th place overall result. It was my best classic sprint result by far and given how good I felt through all the rounds, I was psyched to believe that my legs had what it would take to win the skate sprint the following week.
After the classic sprint, Scott and I sat down to discuss options. I had registered for the 15km skate race two days later, but after seeing how strong I felt in the classic sprint, Scott urged me to focus instead on resting and preparing exclusively for the skate sprint. I agreed, and we set out on a plan to rest, then prepare with a few high-speed workouts. Three days later I did a hard interval session on the sprint course, culminating in a full lap of the course at race speed. Scott commented that he'd never seen me ski faster. We were confident that I was ready.
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| Striding to a tie for 5th in the classic sprint qualifier (photo: Ian Harvey/Toko US) |
The next morning, Sunday (two days before race day), I woke up with a pretty tight throat and achy legs. The legs I chalked up to the previous day's workout and I credited the dry air for my throat discomfort. I took the day largely off, going only for a short jog in the evening. On Monday morning I again woke up with heavy legs and a more congested, dry throat. At that point there was nothing to do; I was racing the next day and agitating about potential illness would only serve to fracture my confidence. I shrugged it off and went to the venue for my standard pre-race workout. Throughout the workout, my legs felt flat, lacking the pop I'd come to rely upon. I pushed through my short intensity sets and returned home to hope that it would revive me sufficiently for the next day.
On the morning of the sprint it was more of the same. Heavy legs, tight throat, and limited energy. The reality of ski racing is that you will occasionally race in sub-par condition. I've actually had some of my best races on mornings where I felt less-than-stellar. I took confidence in that knowledge and went out to the venue to get ready. But once the qualifier started, I knew it wasn't going to be my day. All through that first round I never found my top gear; I skied well when I was pacing the course but when it came time to really burn the NOS, I found nothing in the tank. I finished the qualifier in 10th, over eight seconds out of first. Given how I felt I was surprised it wasn't worse, but realized all I could do was get ready for the rounds. My quarterfinal started in a conservative pace (which I was grateful for), and I sat in fourth position until the first long downhill, where I cut a corner tightly and moved into 2nd. I stayed there until the top of the long downhill before the stadium, where in my tuck I glided into 1st position. Coming into the final short hill before the finish I was side-by-side with my friend and former teammate Erik Bjornsen, and we sprinted alongside each other into the finish stretch, leading the pack. In normal circumstances this lead would've been enough to secure my move into the semis, but when I pushed my pace nothing happened. Watching from the side of the course, Scott said it looked like I almost slowed down in the finish. I came in barely third in the heat, and missed the lucky loser position into the semis when two lower bib numbers finished third in later heats. I ended the day in 13th place, far from the top-3 finish at which I'd been aiming.
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| Scott and I sharing an economics podcast on the 15 hour drive home |
Despite my own frustrating performance, the day was improved when my longtime friend and regional teammate Dakota Blackhorse von-Jess skied an incredible final to take his first National Championship. Dak's been dancing near that finish for the last two years, and it was a real amazing thing to watch him grab it. I can't think of anyone else I would rather see up there, and if it wasn't going to be my day, I'm glad it was his.
Time to reload. I leave for Minnesota next Tuesday for the Tour de Twin Cities and the fast lane to redemption. Thanks for reading; more to come.
