Targhee Rando Race Beatdown!

OUCH!

Okay, the fact that last weekend's ski mountaineering race hurt in all the usual ways is no surprise. I mean, let's face it. There are few endurance competitions that punish participants quite like ski mountaineering racing. A friend of mine who is a solid mountain bike racer did his first skimo event at Targhee. When he came into the lodge after finishing looking a bit shattered but still displaying the masochistic grin of someone who got even more than he came for, I quipped that it was a lot like mountain bike racing. He simply said, "Harder!" He pointed out that with the hair raising descents on tooth picks and the ski boot equivalent of bed room slippers there was just no recovery. Another competitor was overheard saying he hit his max heart rate on a descent. How awesome is that?!

After a few seasons of participation, all this is no mystery to me. I know what I'm getting into and understand the preparation. Last year I was fully committed. I ended the summer of road bike racing and quickly shifted focus to early season preparation for this demanding sport. It paid off in spades. I was ready when the first race came and my partner and I won the event. Granted the field was not stacked but there were enough "barometers" on the start line to get an accurate assessment of one's preparation and fitness.

This year was different. The field was stacked due to the event serving as one of the World Championship team qualifying events. Ski mountaineering racing is huge in Europe and there is a world championship event in Andorra in March. A US contingent attends and United States Ski Mountaineering Association uses a few events each year to sort out the worthy. Some of the ambitious hopefuls were on the line last Saturday. I finished 12th, significantly off the pace of some of the guys I was much closer to last year.

Now, some of you may read this post and consider my writings as just a bunch of excuses. Fair enough. However, those who know me know that I am not prone to that tendency. Rather, what I would like to explore here are the factors that led to a decrease in performance against familiar competitors over similar terrain. As a competitive athlete I am not immune to the insecurities and failings suffered by many of us but, as a sports science geek, I'm also honest in my self-assessment for the entertainment and education of my readers. There are lessons to be learned here. Do with them as you wish.

Pre-season lead up

Unfortunately, the retrospectoscope is a bit hazy for me since I am not prone to recording lots of numbers. I guess that makes me a shitty science geek. At least in that regard, guilty as charged. However, I do have a good enough recollection of training trends from both seasons to make a reasonable comparison. Looking back on last fall, I was able to get a week of solid training on the bike with some big miles while touring southern Arizona in late October. Winter started upon my return and I was on Teton Pass in early November getting 4,000-5,000 vertical feet regularly. Having my ass handed to me the previous year at Targhee due to way inadequate preparation, I was motivated to avoid the same. It was easy for me to get out the door and get the work done.

This year, a combination of little snow and seriously cold temps curbed both motivation and access to effective training. Couple these with the fact that skimo racing was not my primary focus and, well, the work just did not get accomplished.

Training Volume

As stated above, conditions conspired against accumulating the volume needed to be prepared. I worked about 15% more hours this year at my job which got me home later at night. Facing laps on Snow King at night when it's -15 to -20 degrees out is simply unsavory. It just became too easy to blow off the session or shorten it due to the conditions. 

Training Quality

Looking back on last year, I spent a fair number of interval days with the Gym Boss doing carefully timed and planned intensity bouts. This year...not so much. Although I certainly went hard at times, the efforts were more free form fartlek-style than anything else. Not a waste of time but perhaps not as effective as more measured efforts.

Body Weight

Historically, I have never been one to pay attention to my weight. However, my return to competitive endurance sports required a reduction in body weight. Suddenly, I found myself jumping on the scale each morning like an anorexic high school cheerleader. As a result of the reduced training volume and, perhaps, enthusiasm for a heavy weight lifting leg program, my weight at the starting line last Saturday was about 3-5 pounds heavier than last year.

Gear

Of all the factors considered here, this may be the least important but worth mentioning nonetheless. Similar to the path that equipment in road cycling has taken, skimo gear has evolved. Both performance characteristics and weight of the components has improved dramatically. Ultra light bindings and carbon fiber boots are the norm now and most of the front runners this past weekend were shod in all of it. Even skin selection plays a role here. At one point during the race I left a skins-on transition at the same time as a competitor with whom I share a similar uphill speed. The course took us up a low-angle cat road for at least 15 minutes. My skins were nearly full-length mohair, almost wall to wall under foot. My competitor's skins were a much narrower variety and cut short just behind the foot. Much to my dismay, he glided away from me in a magnificently demoralizing fashion. Once we got onto a steeper, off-piste skin track I was able to recapture most of what I had lost but the impact was apparent. Had I been better prepared, I may have been able to establish a gap instead of simply recapturing lost ground.

So, what else is there to say? For one thing, bike racing is WAAAAY more fun! Of course, I would have had more fun last weekend if I was in the hunt. Instead, I got my ass handed to me and, as is obvious from the above analysis, I have no one to blame but myself. There are some less tangibles. Perhaps I just had a bad day. Maybe I was better prepared than I thought but a couple of late nights in the operating room days before the event put me behind the eight ball. Whatever. They all start sounding like excuses after awhile.

There is a part of me that wants to jump back on the horse and prepare for another race 4-6 weeks down the road just to prove to myself that I can still do it. Training conditions are bound to improve and I can eliminate many of the factors that conspired against me discussed above. On the other hand, I have my eye on the looming cycling season. With a new team and some support I have not had in the past, it looks to be a fun adventure. I will still ski, of course. For those of us living in the snowy mountain regions, it really is the best way to establish the aerobic base upon which a successful cycling campaign is built. As much as I detest the indoor trainer, a few hour-long sessions each week should be enough to start honing the cycling specific fitness until the roads are clear. - Brian

Comments

[Ralph S.]

Hell yeah! Thanks for the link to the Gymboss. I have been looking for an interval timer and could only find pricey ones. Happy turns!

[Jared]

bike racing is WAAAY more fun? Huh? What are you talking about?

there are trade-offs. you chose to focus on the bike this fall, rather than get specific hours in on skis. the pay off will come in less than two months when you race on two wheels.

[brian]

Jared,
I'm talking about the relentless pain I experienced chasing you guys. You can't hide in the pack and follow wheels out of the wind when you aren't feeling good. On a bike, you actually get to coast downhill and fully recover. Skimo? Not a chance. The pain in my thighs is worse going down than up.

I think my problem was not hours on the bike instead of skis this fall, it was simply less hours period. Can't get around the need to put in the time. You are proof of what happens when you do. Nice work.