Books Read: March

I'm a little behind on writing these.  Reading is a lot easier for me than writing (I expect that's true for most people).  Anyway, March shows how getting a Kindle has influenced my reading.  I did a lot more reading of old stuff that I can get for free and not so much new(er) stuff from the library.

Trails that Never End, Tim Kelley.

Endurance cross-country skiing in Alaska.  Everything I ever wanted and more.  I dropped $15 on this e-book as soon as I heard about it.  Usually I'd be reluctant to spend that much, but since I read Tim's blog frequently and I've learned a lot about skiing and camping from him I didn't hesitate.  Honestly I was a little worried that this would be a how-to manual and negate all the hard work and research I had put into learning how to ski like I do (maybe I'm beginning to understand Mike Curiak).  It's not.  There's a lot to glean from what he says, but mostly this is a record of Tim's early ('90s) ski trips across the Alaska backcountry.  He tells a great story and there are hundreds of great photos to go along with it.  I'd recommend it to anyone who has an interest in this type of skiing (which hardly anyone seems to). 

Farthest North Vol. I, Fridtjof Nansen.

Another book that the Kindle allowed me to read.  It's unavailable in print, but no charge on Project Gutenberg.  For anyone who doesn't know who Nansen is, well, you should and you should worship him as the mortal god that he is.  This book covers his arctic journey in the Fram from the planning stage until he and Johansen set out for the North Pole by dogsled and ski (that journey is covered in Vol. II).  While the book is a little repetitious at times (being on a ship for two years will do that) his thoughts about humanity and nature are well worth the read.  If I might be allowed to say so it is an inspiring story and makes one believe that anything is possible. 

Various stories, Jack Vance.

Along with The Chronicles of Narnia, The Matrix, and the band Rush, Jack Vance's science fiction is one of those things that I'm supposed to like (given my dispositions), but just can't.  I could give you a rundown of the reasons, from trite plots to rampant sexism that make me cringe about his stories, but I won't.   I don't think I'll be trying to read him again. 

Various stories, Fritz Leiber.

Lieber is perhaps the opposite of Vance in my opinion.  The stories I read are not his popular Lankhmar fantasy series, but a selection of sci-fi stories that were pretty obviously written quickly and for publication in pulp magazines.  But they're good.  In just a few pages he manages to create interesting characters in thought provoking situations.  The classic "twist" ending that characterizes most sci-fi short story writing is certainly there, but always alludes to a greater truth and isn't just a convenient hook on which to hang a story.  I may end up paying good money to finally read the adventures of Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser. 

The World Set Free, H. G. Wells. 

Published in 1914, this prescient novel introduced the concepts of aerial bombardment and the atomic bomb well ahead of their time (that sentence was not intended to sound like a "question" on Jeopardy).  While the first half of the novel focuses on a world war, the second is of more interest to me.  It's the opposite of the later 1984 by George Orwell.  Rather than describing a socialist dystopia, Wells describes a socialist utopia arising out of the ashes of a world changing war.  It's a sentiment (and perhaps a story) that inspired Orwell before he became disillusioned after the Spanish Civil War.  I have to admit that it is refreshing to read an optimistic novel that predicts a better world.  Whether or not it's realistic is debatable.  Also of interest is a chapter towards the end that discusses feminism.  I don't know enough to properly criticize it, but it's certainly fairer to women than Vance ever was.  

Not Always So, Shunryu Suzuki. 

Published posthumously, this book, along with his first, Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind, is a series of short lectures that Suzuki gave to his students.  The form suits the style of Zen much better than a lengthy and logically structured book.  It's tough to say much about it, but the message of single-tasking and constant surprise strikes a real chord with me.  It's too easy to get stuck in a rut and not realize that you're even in one.  Breaking those habits of mind are difficult, but I think that through reading (and practicing) this, along with some works by Thich Nhat Hanh, and David Foster Wallace, I am beginning to recognize my thoughts and stay more present. 

Pro Motocross and Off-Road Motorcycle Riding Techniques, Donnie Bales and Gary Semics.

I checked this out from the library in the hopes that I'd pick up some tips on riding bicycles off road.  I have never been able to find a good technique guide for mountain biking, but I had always heard that riding motorcycles helps biking skills and vise-versa.  That may be true, but this manual didn't have much to offer for me.  I did pick up some tips on braking, but cornering still eludes me and none of the advice in this book really seemed to apply.  It looks like I'll have to find a teacher somewhere else. 

A very pretentious TransIowa race report.

I get uncomfortable when I hear stuff about how "X race changed my life" and stuff like that.  I'm suspicious of epiphanies (my greatest epiphany during an ultra was the realization that quesadillas are Mexican grilled cheese).  So when people tell me I'm "a god", or I'm an inspiration, or I should be talking myself up, and ask me "what it means to me" I treat it with a large dose of skepticism and humility.  Nothing happens out there that doesn't happen at home.  The only thing that separates me from someone who didn't do TransIowa is that I signed up and showed up.

It isn't that there isn't anything special about the event.  I do appreciate all the hard work that Mark and the volunteers put into organizing this thing.  I enjoy meeting and hanging out with like minded individuals.  I hope to do more of it in the future, but it's not like we're saving lives out there.  We all make choices and this is where mine have led.

All philosophy aside TransIowa went really well for me this year.  In spite of  a winter that didn't allow a lot of bike training, a sprained ankle a month out, coming down with a cold a week out, and whatever other obstacles presented themselves I came into the race in good enough shape.  Not the best shape, but good enough.

My plan was to go out and ride my own race and I did that.  I rode by myself pretty much from the beginning and never really did ride with a group.  My single speed gearing helped prevent that.  I had to push hard on the uphills and spin on the flats preventing the usual "easy on the hard stuff, hard on the easy stuff."  For the last 140 miles (including the entire overnight) I didn't see another cyclist (okay I did see Grelk and one other in Brooklyn, but it turned out they were dropping from the race so I dropped them), but my favorite riding partner is myself so I was never uncomfortable with being alone. 

Around midnight I found that there were hills out there I could no longer climb on the bike.  My knees would no longer take it.  So I walked, no shame in it, but I kept moving.

A check of the cue sheets after crossing Highway 30 near Montour made me realize that we were going to have to put in 100 miles between convenience stores.  We had had the warning that we would should be prepared for that distance without resupply, but I didn't really expect Mark to call our bluff.  Going through the shuttered town of Brooklyn at 2am was the low point of my race, but I knew I could manage another 15 miles to where the cue sheets promised a refuel.

The convenience store on I-80 midway between Brooklyn and Victor was salvation.  Warmth, coffee, breakfast sandwiches.  The attendant was the most enthusiastic sober guy I've ever met at 4am.  If anybody could give you a pep talk to keep you going it was this guy. 

I divided the remaining 40 miles of the race into 10 mile segments.  10 miles (let's push it to 11) then sit down in the road and eat a Snickers and drink as much water as possible.  Repeat.  I skipped the last break and rode the last 15 miles in one stretch. 

The finish to one of these things is always a shock.  After the simplicity of the road, nothing to do but pedal, I once again have to talk to people, make decisions, the rest of my life. 

Gravel Dude Challenge Announced

For a couple of years now I've wanted to put on my own triathlon challenge.  Not a race, but just an event to see if I (or anyone else) can do it.  So here it is:

1st Annual Gravel Dude Challenge (aka IronMatt)

• What: a 2.4 mile swim in a gravel pit, a 112 mile gravel road bike ride, and a 26.2 mile trail run (these distances are a total coincidence, I swear)
• Date & Time: Saturday June 29th @ 7am (just happens to be my 35th birthday)
• Location: West Peterson's Pits north of Ames, IA
• Entry Fee: $0
• Prizes: a warm feeling
• Support: none (well okay, I'll have the bike ride go by a convenience store for you)

Let me know if you're interested and think you can do an unsupported  gravel/trail triathlon of this totally coincidental distance.  Remember this isn't a race and you can't win.  Maybe we'll ride/run together.  Maybe we won't.  I supply a route and you do your best to complete it, that's all. 

The plan.

Reading Maximum Climbing made me think more about the goals that I have and what it will take to reach them.  The big difference here is between dreams and goals.  I have been too much of a dreamer and not enough of a goal reacher in the past.  Dreams are things that you think about but don't do.  Goals are things you strive for.  If I have anything to thank competing in ultras for it is that realization. 

It's tough to announce these goals for fear that I won't reach them, but I know that with your badgering I'll be more motivated to achieve them.  With that in mind here are two goals that have been dreams for too long:

• Ski the Iditarod Trail Invitational in 2015.  This is something I've thought about for a while and now realize is within my grasp.  It won't be easy and I'll have to overcome some bad races in the past year to get there, but I am confident I have the ability to do so.  Of course it isn't all in my power.  The race is an "invitational" after all.  I'm not guaranteed a spot, but I think I can convince the race directors.  
• Finish college.  I will be going back to school this fall, part time for now at DMACC and then back to a four year institution.  I had been waiting for a sign from God that I was supposed to go back to school, but realized that wasn't going to happen.  It is time to shift the onus off God and onto myself.  It's going to be a lot of hard work and a big time commitment. 

Thanks in advance for the badgering.  

Books Read: February

February's books are pretty heavily influenced by my failure at Arrowhead and the upcoming TransIowa. I didn't get much fiction read. I made it halfway through another Malazan book, but got distracted by/focused on training books.

In order to read one of these books I had to buy it for the Kindle from Amazon. I wasn't too thrilled about this (I don't feel like all the consequences of digital media have shaken out quite yet), but I broke down and did it anyway. At first I just used a free download reader on my computer, but I found a cheap used Kindle and picked that up so now I have one of those. I'm finding it pretty handy for reading public domain stuff that I can't find elsewhere, but I'm still not entirely comfortable spending money on it. For instance the other day I did pay for a Kindle book. I clicked the button (virtually) and realized that I had just spent $15 without really thinking about it. I don't regret buying the book, but I'm going to have to be careful, even with $1.99 books.

The Obree Way, Graeme Obree.
This book falls into the "so crazy it just might work" category.  It reminds me a bit of Jardine's Beyond Backpacking when that first came out.  If Obree didn't have the results to back up his training program (which he does in spades) no one would give this book a second look.  What he proposes (and what is starting to come out in the more scientific literature) is a radically slimmed down training program.  Fewer rides at higher intensity with more and better rest in between.  What he isn't proposing is a slackening of dedication.  If anything he's asking for more dedication and faith in the program.  Honestly, I tried it for three weeks when the weather wasn't so good (his program involves an indoor trainer ride as the core of the training cycle) and I did learn a bit about how to push myself, and am still using some of his breathing and pedaling techniques, but I didn't feel like I was getting the time in the saddle that is necessary for endurance rides that I like to do.  He is a bit of a specialist in one hour and shorter races after all. 

The Cyclist's Training Bible, Joe Friel. 
This is the classic training book.  It's pretty much all about periodization and I get that.  He's also a stickler for numbers and believer in power meters, heart rate monitors, vo2 max, et cetera.  I get that too, but I don't feel like those numbers are of much use to me (Obree too is fanatical about numbers, but he is only interested in one: average speed on your weekly turbo session).  For me training is all about figuring out how it feels to ride a good pace; how it feels to ride 100 miles and intuiting if I can speed up or need to slow down to meet my goals.  Heart rate and wattage don't mean much when all they tell you is, hey, you're right, you're not feeling good today.  As a measure of progress, maybe, but I don't care about my wattage, I care about finishing races.  That's the progress I want.  I'm coming to the conclusion that most coaches don't know much about the type of race I like to do. 

Maximum Climbing, Eric Hörst
Where the previous two books were mostly about physical training Hörst's book is almost entirely about mental training.  I was lucky to stumble across this book at the public library.  I don't know why it caught my eye, after all it is a book about rock climbing, not running, skiing, or cycling, and I have never been a rock climber.  Still, this book is exactly the book I was looking for.  It discusses in detail the mental blocks that hold you back in any endeavor, not just climbing, and how to move past them and develop a positive attitude to not just improve, but enjoy your improvement.  If anything this might be a handbook for life (sorry if it sounds like I've joined a cult.  I don't think I have.).  Whole chapters are devoted to analyzing what is holding you back, goal setting, self-talk, how to approach your training, among other things.  While Hörst is cognizant of the science he is good at explaining concepts in an easy to understand and not too technical way where other authors get bogged down.  He also doesn't shy away from admitting that climbing is dangerous and we have to accept some risk.  He's not of the "always roped in" school of climbing.  I get the feeling that rock climbing is closer to the type of race that I like to do than cyclocross or marathon running.  The goal for me is experiencing the race and finishing, much as in climbing the goal is to climb well, enjoy it, and reach the top.  I am purchasing a copy of this book for myself to re-read. 

Deep Survival, Laurence Gonzales.
This one was passed on to me by a friend who thought it might apply to the kind of wilderness racing that I do.  Gonzales' book is not about building fires or stocking up on canned food and ammo.  It's about the attitude necessary to survive a disaster situation (whatever that disaster might be).  While it's impossible to give a one size fits all solution, sometimes luck plays a bigger role than we like to admit, Gonzales gets as close as it's probably possible to come.  It really comes down to preparation (as applicable) and being resilient.  Recognizing that you are in a survival situation and things have changed is probably the biggest thing.  Acting as though nothing is wrong is the worst thing you can do (and apparently often the only thing people do).  The more I think about this book the more I like it.  Initially I found it to be a little bit pop-psych in it's talk about brain anatomy and such, but if you look a little deeper there are good lessons to be learned in the examples Gonzales gives and the conclusions drawn.  Case studies are better than MRIs in this case. 

These last two books by Hörst and Gonzales used the phrase "Zen like acceptance" or something like it.  I've read a bit about Zen in the past and I like it.  It's an interesting attitude (and I think it's more of an attitude than a religion or philosophy) and one I am going to explore more of.  I expect you'll see a few Zen books in the March books read. 

BWCA Ski Camping

"Adventure is just bad planning." -Roald Amundsen

I could just as easily start this off with a hack of Tolstoy's opening quote from Anna Karenina: Happy trips are all alike.  So the Boundary Waters winter camping trip that I took at the end of February was pretty uneventful.  There isn't really any drama or adventure to relate.  It was a great time.  I wish I had more to say about it. 

I'm used to racing circumstances like Arrowhead where every moment is a bit of an adventure.  There is doubt about the outcome.  By contrast the BWCA trip was easy.  No bivy sacks; we slept in a heated tent.  No energy gels or electrolyte drinks; bacon for breakfast and homemade soups for supper.  No need to make 56 miles per day just to finish; our longest day was less than 10 miles.  In spite of all that I still had a great time. 

We snowshoed in from Sawbill Lake, across Alton, and pulled our sleds to Beth Lake where we set up camp.  Once there, with a warm tent to rest in, we found some firewood, and ate. 

The second day we skied across a longish portage to Grace Lake.  The skiing on the portages was somewhat challenging, but it was a good illustration of how much I've improved since Kaukopartio last year.  I'm much more comfortable on tight trails and steep climbs and descents than I was a year ago.  We skied to the west end of Grace and portaged about halfway to Phoebe then turned around and skied back to Beth by way of Ella Lake.  Then we ate and slept.  (The toughest part of the trip may have been sleeping close to 12 hours per night!)

The next day we skied all the way to Phoebe and then up a channel to Knight Lake where we took a break for lunch and then returned the same way we had come.  On the last portage I tried out my climbing skins as I had been slipping a bit on some of the climbs (not to mention not having used the skins ever).  They worked fine (no adventure here). 

The penultimate day we snowshoed to the top of a hill overlooking Beth lake.  It was a pretty strenuous climb, especially in my huge, three foot long, snowshoes, but overall it was pretty short.  We got a good view of the lake and I got a lesson in lichens.  We got back to camp pretty early so a couple of us did a short ski trip to Ella Lake which we explored a little more thoroughly than the previous day. 

The last day we packed up camp and snowshoed out.  So, to sum up, we ate a lot of good food, slept a lot, and did some casual skiing.  I guess that's what vacations are supposed to be like. 

It was a great chance to try out my new Åsnes skis with Karhu Meta style bindings.  The skis are very wide (75/65/70 sidecut) and have excellent float in the deep unbroken snow we encountered.  While it wasn't exactly easy to break trail, it was very doable, something I wouldn't have trouble doing for hours on end.  The bindings, combined with Kamik Green Bay boots, gave plenty of control, though I wasn't exactly demanding of them.  I never got any blisters or pain from them which is not something I can say of any other ski boot (Nokians excepted). 

Snowshoeing was something new to me and I was surprised how little experience it takes to use them.  I really expected to be tripping over my toes more than I was.  The huge shoes were great on the open lakes and deep snow, but not so great on steep and tight terrain where the folks wearing mountaineering snowshoes did much better.  That shouldn't come as a surprise. 

I do hope I get to do more trips like this one.  Mostly it's the land that I love about it.  I've never had a bad time in the Boundary Waters.  But I could do with a little bit more skiing. 

Training plans and resurrected bikes

Just a quick update to let everyone know what I'm up to (and I know you're interested).

I started TransIowa training a little over two weeks ago now. Honestly it's been kind of a slow start. I haven't been doing much in the way of long gravel rides or really much of any outdoor riding at all. (Okay, I wrote this yesterday and I did a metric today, but really that isn't much to speak of.)

Mostly I've been doing my research. I've been reading the Friel book, Graeme Obree's training book, and a mental training for rock climbing book. I hope to say more on all of these later, but for now I'll say that Obree's plan is so crazy it just might work and appeals way more to my INFP personality (mostly the NF) than Friel.

In accordance with the Obree plan I did a half hour all out on an indoor trainer. That was brutal. I have never been so beat after such a short ride, but it does target one of my weaknesses: sustained power. I managed 30kph, but I doubt that translates to real speed very well. The trainer is a real beast, much harder than any other trainer I've used. Next week: 31kph.

The Bike of Theseus is ready to ride as of last night (yes, I have two bikes known as Bike of Theseus). This one is a singlespeed and I hope it will be my race bike for this year. I am giving aerobars another try after abandoning them two years ago. If the gravel is good and there are headwinds they may be a boon, if there are crosswinds and loose rock I will be ditching them (perhaps literally). 

The view post-workout