Whew! I'm way behind in my writing - it turned out to be a busier winter than I expected. More about that in the next Hired Gun installment. Right now, let's talk about my first race of the season way back in January...

I'd been practicing Torbjorn's "build up" philosophy all during summer and fall training. Intervals were all "build up": start relatively easy and increase the difficulty of each succeeding interval. Time trials were all "build up": start out at an easier pace, and then increase the intensity the second half of the time trial.

This was the first race where I was to "build up": instead of hammering from the start, I was going to go hard, but not all out. I'd save all-out for the second half of the race.

The plan was simple:

• Get in a 20-minute warm-up; throw in some 15-20 second sprints to get the lead out.
• Have a good start, and then back off slightly.
• Watch my technique, especially V1. Get my ski under my hips. Have good ankle bend.
• At the halfway point, pick up the pace. Bring it home HARD!

The reality turned out somewhat different...

It's cold out there, the coldest ski day yet, 14F. It's a bit windy. I want to get my warm-up in "just in time" - ski the 20 minutes, ski into the start line nicely warmed up, and GO! Thirty minutes before race time should be enough time. But I didn't take into account the time I needed to fiddle with the old, complicated straps on my poles, or the time to take off my jacket, get a drink of water, throw some gel down my throat. All said and done, my warm-up lasted 10 minutes - and I wasn't warmed up. My legs still had stiffness in them and I wasn't sweating yet.

Too late, the start line's already forming.

I get a good position in the front row. This race is actually starting on time! Stragglers are still coming up the course. GO!

I have a great doublepole start; I'm able to switch into a skate with plenty of room around me. As we head into the woods, I'm in pretty good position. But my legs, my arms, and my lungs just aren't working well. I can tell I'm not warmed up enough.

I ease up so I don't blow up. A ton of skiers pass by at the end of the first kilometer. A small group forms of people form around me; we're just off the back of the lead pack. All I need to do is have someone set a nice pace for me for a few minutes while my muscles loosen up.

The first hills are a struggle - it's hard to keep up. I'm following John Morgan; he's not struggling on the ups and his tempo is slower. Ah! I'm rushing my technique! "Ski slower to ski faster" as J.D. Downing told us at race camp this past fall. "Complete your skate and your poling before pushing off to the other ski."
Once I slow my technique down I find I'm skiing the hills faster and using less energy.

Letting the terrain work for me

The skiers I'm with are speeding up the hills, but dogging it on the downhills. Push hard on the up, rest on the down. I have to standup on every downhill to make sure I don't run into anyone in front of me - it's driving me crazy! These skiers should at least be in a high tuck as they rest. They're losing a second or two on every descent, and another second on the next climb because they lost momentum.

Eventually, I move into second position by gliding faster on a downhill, then into the lead position on another downhill. Everyone's with me, but I don't slow down on the descents - I accelerate. On the following ascent, I have enough momentum to V2 up at least partway up. Over the next kilometers, I start dropping people behind and picking off people in front. And I'm not really working much harder - I'm letting the terrain work for me.

I join another small pack of racers that include Ken Dawson and Bob Smith. I'm hanging off the back, watching what's happening. This group is more consistent, racing both up and down.

It's about the halfway point and I'm feeling pretty warmed up... My turn to lead. I begin a cranking it up slowly - again on the now easy downhills. We head into a long flat and it's V2 or V2-alternate the whole way. I've pulled Ken and Bob with me, and a fourth person is barely holding on. I pull to the side to let someone else lead just shy of moving into a hillier section. Bob and Ken push up the hills; I watch my technique and hang on. Down to the sharp right turn, then left and down to the final 2 km flat section, it's Bob, me, and Ken. Bob's moving pretty good, but I'm pretty sure he has something left. Ken, as he told me later, wasn't worried about Bob but was worried if he could take me. About 400 yards from the finish, I make my move to go around Bob on his left...

...and firmly plant my right pole between my legs. CRACK! my pole breaks! CRASH! I hit the snow! THUD! Ken goes flying over me into the snow bank! SWISH, SWISH go Bob's skis as he thinks too himself, "Hmmm, I hear swearing, cracking, and thudding behind me. Looks like I don't need to sprint to the finish..."

Ken quickly recovers but not quickly enough to catch Bob. I untangle myself, see Ken's already a hundred yards down the trail, see no one near by behind me. I grab the broken pole tip from the snow, and ski in as fast as I'm able.

Lesson's learned

So what did I learn?

• I need a good warmup in cold, much longer than I used to have when I was younger.
• Go slow to go fast. Skiing a good race doesn't just mean hammering, it means begin as efficient as possible.
• Have more confidence in my training. I should have picked up the pace much earlier while I was with the group dogging the downhills. 
• Keep the poles away from between my skis. This was a stupid technique problem - rushing my technique, standing up too straight, and not getting out over my skis.
• The strategy of starting not TOO hard, then picking it up deserves more experimentation.

Every ski race is a learning experience. What did you learn in your ski races?