Winter...finally!

Although I assume that nearly no one reads my drivel on these pages, my website statistics function suggests otherwise. That's kinda cool, really. This fact keeps me thinking about stuff that matters to me, and hopefully you, and composing something thoughtful for the faithful to read. I'm occasionally embarrassed about the infrequency of these posts but, at least for now, am trying to turn over a new leaf. It's been less than a week and, holy crap, here's another one!

Today's post is really just a reflection that serious on-the-snow training can actually take place in earnest now that the white stuff seems to be coming in appreciable amounts. Truth be told, I've had skis on for over a month now.

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(Ectopic) Rhythm Nation

Okay all you horny Janet Jackson fans. Just sit the hell down. I’m trying to be clever here. Yes, Rhythm Nation was the name of her album back in 1989 (tell me you didn’t watch MTV at some point in the last two decades) and her naked midriff set the standard for abs everywhere for some time after those videos. But the rhythm I really want to talk about is the cardiac kind. And not just the normal rhythm kind. I’m more interested in, as the title suggests, ectopy. This is the term cardiologists give to heart beats that are generated outside of the normal electrical pathways in our hearts.

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Sticks and Stones...

Race a bicycle long enough and you're bound to hit the pavement.  Actually, you don't even have to be a racer, just someone who trains long enough for the odds to catch up.  I got my first road bike in 1985 and have lots of scars to show for it. Some of them self-induced, sliding out hauling ass around corners thinking I'm Eddie Mercx or someone.  Other episodes involved other riders knocking me down or putting me in situations where crashing was unavoidable.  Whichever the cause, the resulting grief usually entailed only frequent dressing changes and sticky sheets for a week or two.

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Reload

Easy there all you net surfing gun nuts!  This is not for you.  I'm talking muscle glycogen here, not your spent shells from last weekend's Skeetapalooza!  Go away!

The day of reckoning is at hand.

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Stress Management

Stress.  Yeah, being a competitive athlete and having a real job is all about managing stress.  Some good, some not so good.  The competitive part is an important distinction.  It demands that the training MUST take place where as the recreational athlete can blow off a work out if other demands conspire against it.  When one faces a test against others or himself on a regular basis, coming to the line inadequately prepared creates consequences more ominous than getting the work done in the first place. 

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