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Category: skiing (Page 1 of 7)

Warren Miller

here’s to warren miller (r.i.p.)

Warren Miller died yesterday at the age of 93. To any alpine skier, his name brings to mind images of gorgeous alpine vistas, with good looking skiers performing extreme feats of derring do – or neophyte skiers battling their equipment as they crash getting off the chairlift.

I was still fairly new to skiing in 1985 when my dad took me to my first Warren Miller movie, Steep and Deep. Back then, Miller still did his movies as a roadshow, taking them from town to town and narrating them live at the theatre. His delivery was warm and funny, with a slightly deadpan approach to the zinger lines.

I left the movie completely sold on becoming a better skier. The movie featured a mix of big mountain skiing, local mountain humor, and some awesome ski racing footage. With immersive visuals and Miller’s narration and humor, I thought to myself, “this is a sport I really want to do – and do well!” By this point in my youth, I was considering entering the world of alpine ski racing, and seeing some of the best skiers of the day (especially the U.S. hero of the Sarajevo Olympics, Phil Mahre) racing gates on a gigantic screen at Highland High School in Salt Lake City sealed the deal.

Sure, there were some things I wasn’t going to try – like telemark mogul competitions:

And while I really loved seeing the powder skiing at Snowbird, I wasn’t about to do a full gainer into the bottomless snow:

I’ve enjoyed Warren Miller films ever since. His older films still resonate today with the sheer beauty of the cinematography and the elegance of the retro fashions. Sure, the skiing may look different, but when the skier is the late, great Stein Eriksen, it’s never out of style:

Fortunately, one of Miller’s 1990s films, Black Diamond Rush, can be streamed for free as of this writing. Sure, ski films aren’t everyone’s cuppa, but this is a good example of the Miller formula: mix great skiers with great venues and see where the chips fall. Mix in humor, some occasional sidetracking, and some memorable quotes, and presto: your classic ski movie is made!

As Miller got older, he gradually handed over the film business to his sons, who in turn sold Warren Miller Entertainment to Time Inc., who in turn sold it to other investment groups. Miller’s narration slowly disappeared from the films, as well, replaced by the more au courant likes of Johnny Moseley. It’s not quite the same, yet it’s still the Miller formula at work.

2016’s Miller film, Here, There, and Everywhere, celebrated Miller’s 90th birthday by interviewing the man, himself, while asking current ski heroes what the Warren Miller films meant to them. It was, and is, a fitting tribute – and it’s available to stream from all the usual sources.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t share some of my favorite “Millerisms” that will always make me smile.

“If at first you don’t succeed, try again. If it still doesn’t work out, failure may be your thing.”

“If you don’t have any idea where you’re going, you’ll probably end up there.”

“Adventure is the invitation to common people to become uncommon.”

“Gravity is love and every turn is a leap of faith.”

“You can’t get hurt skiing unless you fall.”

“If you don’t do it this year, you’ll just be one year older when you do.”

“Don’t take life seriously, because you won’t come out of it alive.”

And then there’s this passage (from Miller’s autobiography, Freedom Found: My Life Story), which hits home with me because I can still clearly remember the first time I skied in 1981, age 7, at Parley’s Summit Ski Area:

If I ask any­body who learned to ski after the age of five, they can remem­ber their first day of skiing – what the weather was like, who they went with, what they had for lunch. I believe that’s because that first day on skis was the first day of total free­dom in their life.

So thank you, Warren Miller, for lighting a fire in this Utah boy. It’s taken me on some incredible journeys, and continues to do so.

 

Skiing Santa from Ho Ho Pro

virtual advent: skiing santas!

Welcome to another stop in sprite’s Virtual Advent 2017! I love that sprite carries on this tradition every year – and I try to provide something unique to the mix every year.

This year I’m sharing the tradition of the skiing Santas. Many ski areas kick off their season in early December, and most of them have a skiing Santa to welcome skiers, especially the children.

But some ski areas go a bit further. Witness Sunday River, Maine, where the annual “Santa Sunday” brings out hundreds of skiers in full Santa garb (though the helmet is a new nod to safety). These skiers can ski for free on this day, provided they wear their full Santa regalia all day. Here is footage from this year’s Santa Sunday, which took place last weekend:

And because everything is bigger in the Alps (though the Alps are geologically younger mountains than the Appalachian Range, of which Sunday River’s peaks are part), Verbier, Switzerland, hosted over 2,600 Santas (and associates of Santa) for their annual “Santa Après Ski” festivities this past Saturday:

And because I really can’t wait for the beginning of ski season, here are two cheesy ski videos. First up: Hansi Hinterseer, former Austrian downhill racer, graces us with the latest rendition of his hit song (in Austria, of course), “Ski-Twist”:

And as Christmas for sprite and me is never complete without a bit of John Denver, here’s his video for “Dancing With The Mountains,” from his 1980 album, Autograph:

I’ll be back with more Virtual Advent later in the month – stay tuned!

The header image is a still from “Ho Ho Pro” – another fun video of a skiing Santa, this time at Telluride, Colorado.

a quick #hip2point0 update

Yes, I said I’d give more regular updates about the new hip.

And I’ve not done so – at least not on this site. Bugger. Sorry about that.

I’ll make it brief and bulleted:

  • I made it through the high-risk for deep-vein thrombosis time without incident. Yes, there was a bit of a pickle with the anticoagulant meds, but that was fixed quickly and, as I said, no problems.
  • I was off crutches within less than two weeks of surgery, and off a cane not long after that.
  • My physical therapists have kicked my butt, and the result is ever-improving strength and range of motion.
  • I’ve put in over 1,000 miles on the bike since I was cleared to ride back in mid-July. There was a lot of rust at first, but things have come back quickly.
  • I’m now at around 80-85 percent of maximum possible strength, and as I’m already feeling far better than I did even after #projectfemur healing in 2014, this is a good sign.
  • My orthopedist says the new joint has healed really well, is stable, and should be good for a long while. My PTs appreciate that I do my work to build fitness and flexibility.

And that’s about it! There haven’t been any major bumps in the road, for which I’m grateful. I know that things can challenge me in the coming months and years,  but I’m prepared in case things go off the rails. I’m carrying on, and should be all set for ski season well before the snow flies.

Days since surgery: 118

#projectfemur: my hip is now missing a couple of bits… for the better

My hip/femur is now a few grams lighter. There’s less pain and more mobility. #projectfemur – for now – feels quite a bit better.

Sixteen days ago, Dr. Faucett removed some of the hardware from my January 2014 reconstructive surgery. As I wrote about in my previous post, the screws that bound my femoral head to the rod that aligned my broken femur had made their way into my hip capsule, playing bundles of nerves like a guitar pick on a string.

It was painful, to say the least. Standing up, sitting down, lifting my leg, walking, running, skiing – it all hurt. In the weeks leading into this most recent surgery, even riding my bike was painful. The nerves were so aggravated on a ride one week prior to my surgery that my entire right leg went numb, and I had to ride 25 miles back to DC more-or-less on one leg’s worth of power.

No more screws

Look ma: no more screws!

The surgery was a laparoscopic procedure, minimally invasive. One screw came out without a hitch, while the other brought a bit of dead bone with it on the way out so I wasn’t able to keep it. There was a ton of post-operative swelling: laparoscopy requires a lot of fluid to be flushed through the working area to provide a view for the camera, so the incisions drained for the better part of 30 hours. It was painful at first, and awkward.

But the pain soon subsided (I was off of the opioids within a couple of days, save for a few nights’ worth to aid sleep comfort during the heat wave), the swelling went down, and mobility returned to my leg rather quickly. I’m on a prescription NSAID (Celebrex, FWIW) that’s keeping any latent pain in check, but there isn’t a lot of pain to be found. I was cleared to bear full weight on the leg from the get-go, and graduated from two crutches to one within a week.

So things are better, much better.

However, the nerve pain being greatly reduced shows me how much biomechanical compensation I’ve introduced into my walking over the past year. My right hip flexor, gluteus, adductors, and hamstrings are very weak, and my right abductor is smaller than its left counterpart. In fact, my upper leg is one inch smaller in diameter than the left, and both legs are very lean right now. Below the knee, things are just about equal.

Two legs, two sizes

My legs as of August 31, 2016: one is smaller than the other…

So I know what work I need to do in the next two months: get the right leg back into shape and try to get back some of the flexibility it had before necrosis set in. I know not to expect 100 percent pre-injury mobility, and that even 100 percent pre-injury strength is tough given the femur is still eroding. But getting things into shape, and closer to equilibrium, is key, whether I’m heading into a full ski season this winter or a total hip replacement just after Halloween (the timeline depends on how pain levels even out over the next 4-6 weeks, but I’m optimistic).

Dr. Faucett says it’s now entirely my own timeline to write, and I have a prescription for physical therapy to help along the problem areas. The muscles are already saying “thank you” to me in anticipation.

I’ll be researching orthopedists to do my total hip replacement. I have two primary parameters: the orthopedist must be well versed in revisions of previous hip replacements (i.e. compensating for already-compromised and rebuilt joints), and must be good at rebuilding the hips of impact sport athletes. I will leave no stone unturned in finding the right surgeon and the right replacement hardware for my needs.

Until then, I’m back on the bike, starting tonight at the penultimate “Downtown Breakaway” for the year. It’s a ride I organize every year, and I’ve missed the last two weeks due to the surgery. While I won’t be at 100 percent, it’ll be good to be back out there on two wheels with my friends.

Stay tuned…

#projectfemur turns 2.0: osteonecrosis

I know, I know: it’s been a long while since my last update on… well, anything. For this, I apologize.

Heck, two years ago this week, I went on one of my first club bike rides after my surgery.

First club ride after surgery, August 9, 2014.

It was awesome – as was the 2015 riding season!

During the 2015-16 winter season, I had a really successful alpine ski coaching experience, helping my athletes qualify for elite regional championship competitions.

Coach Rudi at Sunday River, March 2016

That rocked!

But there was a specter lurking in the background. It is a single word:

osteonecrosis

Also known as avascular necrosis, it’s a condition where blood supply gets cut off within a bone, causing the bone to die. It is caused by any number of things, and I’m not sure how I happened to develop it, but it’s there, clear as day, in my femoral head.

Avascular necrosis has taken over my femoral head - not good.

Avascular necrosis has taken over my femoral head – not good.

How did my discovery of this come about?

Let’s do a quick recap:

After my one year surgery anniversary, things were good:

My femoral head, one year after its repair.

My femoral head, one year after its repair.

See that nice, round femoral head? See the clean mending of where I was once broken in two? All good!

I skied in 2014-15. I rode my bike a lot once I was free to ride outdoors. I hiked. I ran.

But then things went off the rails.

Back around Thanksgiving of 2015, I started to feel a bit of pain and catching in my right hip. It was here-and-gone stuff, and while my hip had always been a bit stiff in the morning, until then it had been able to get into the swing of things rather quickly on most days.

But by late November, the pain was more intense, sharper, and sustained. Sure, it would go away after a little while, but sometimes it would just stay there all day. Ibuprofen would calm the pain most of the time, but not all of the time. And I’d get a real nerve pinch down my adductor (I believed this to be a lingering side-effect of tearing said adductor a few years before my femur break).

As the ski season commenced, the pain continued to intensify. When I flew out to Utah for a USSA certification clinic, some of the on-snow exercises were tough to pull off. I noticed a decreasing ability to lift my right leg laterally. Every afternoon after the skiing was over, I’d spend time in the hot tub at my hotel, then stretch to try and loosen my hip, often to only semi-successful levels.

During a bike ride over the Christmas holidays in Connecticut, my right adductor would lock up in a painful way, and my hip would mis-track, causing my entire pedal stroke to degrade into spasmodic chaos – no fun. And a ski camp that occurred immediately thereafter was equally pain-laden, though skiing wasn’t too difficult to pull off without pain.

However, as the ski season continued (I was coaching four days per week all season long, sometimes more during intense racing times, from January through mid-March), the pain grew, the pain medications were less effective, and certain activities required in my work (e.g. having to drive long-ish distances to racing venues, skiing with large, heavy bundles of slalom gates, etc.) became downright excruciating. I’d demonstrate skills to my racers, trying to mask the pain in my expression. I even fell on the screws that attached my femoral head during the initial healing time, which was not pleasant at all, smarting for weeks.

Every day was masked in hip pain that would, at times, radiate down my leg. My walking gait became so labored and awkward that everybody could tell something was wrong. At least on a bike, I could be more-or-less normal, my December pain eventually subsiding as I began to ride more in the spring. But my range of motion in my right leg was compromised, catching in painful ways and making me feel like an old, helpless man.

Eventually, I had to clear things up with my orthopedist. X-rays happened, finding that one of the screws in the femoral head had been knocked through the head, the tip impinging my hip socket and possibly dragging over nerve bundles that travel down my leg. My doctor thought this could be part of the cause of the pain, and said that the screws should come out – a simple outpatient procedure.

My femoral head as of June 2016.

My femoral head as of June 2016.

Worrying both my doctor and me, though, was a random bone fragment that showed itself on another X-ray. As X-rays don’t show things in three dimensions, he ordered a CT scan for my right hip. I had it performed at GW Hospital, in their latest CT scanner (a very quiet machine).

When my doctor called me two days later from an out-of-town conference, I knew things were not good.

He kept it simple: I had osteonecrosis, and am facing total hip replacement.

Fuck. Damn. Shit. Why? How? Fuuuuuuuuck!

I received this news a few days before departing for a week long family vacation at Cape Cod, which left me plenty of time to digest this news and start researching my options. There is a lot to learn about hip replacement, that’s for sure!

The long and short: I’ll get back my leg length and range of motion with any hip replacement method, which is a big plus. The minus is that anything other than basic cruising on alpine skis is highly discouraged, as it can displace, dislocate, or fully break the replacement hip. I hope to speak with some elite ski coaches who have had THR to get their perspectives on living with a replacement hip as a high-level skier.

I’ve since seen a second orthopedist to get a second opinion – major medical things like this should get a second opinion – and he confirmed the same diagnosis as my original doctor. He did, however, recommend having the hardware from #projectfemur removed first (the same thing my original orthopedist recommended), allowing the femur to adjust to a non-titanium-enhanced state and to prevent possible infection of the marrow channel if I get a total hip replacement during the same surgery.

And that’s what I’m going to do this coming Monday, August 15th, with my original doctor, Dr. Faucett, doing the honors. It’s a short, outpatient procedure, and recovery should be fairly quick. Hopefully, getting the screws out of my hip socket will alleviate much of the leg pain I have these days – and it is a lot of pain, lemme tell ‘ya!

But I look forward to this next chapter of #projectfemur – and yes, it’ll need a new hashtag. I’ll figure that out sometime soon.

Once the incisions heal and swelling subsides from this upcoming surgery, I’ll assess my pain levels. And I’m going to keep riding my bike – something that’s encouraged by both doctors to maintain strength and cardiovascular health (trust me, I don’t want another pulmonary embolism or similar issue). I’ll be on crutches for a few days, then a cane, then just plain walking again.

And then the bike – definitely the bike.

It’ll be a minimum of two months before I dive into the more major procedure of total hip replacement. Hopefully I’ll get enough pain relief to delay this until spring of 2017 – and thus will be able to ski and perform my coaching duties more-or-less as usual. If not, surgery will likely happen later in the fall, and I’ll be coaching from a lawn chair. I’m up to the challenge, either way.

But right now my focus is on Monday’s surgery. And I apologize in advance to the ski team’s board of directors: I may be a bit groggy during the evening conference call that evening. Heheheheh…

bringing it all back home: #projectfemur hits the slopes

Well, it was bound to happen: last Saturday, I donned my trusty Lange boots, clicked into a well-worn pair of skis, and got on a chairlift.

Destination: to ski again, this time at Mount Snow, Vermont.

I happened to be up north for the Thanksgiving holiday weekend, staying with sprite’s folks in north-central Connecticut. We drove up to Connecticut in a winter storm that produced much rain, freezing rain, sleet, graupel, and snow, arriving to a wet, 5-inch accumulation in Connecticut. But that same storm dumped 12-14 inches of fresh, fluffy snow on top of a very good man-made base at Mount Snow, so my choice of venue made sense. Also, it’s only 90-or-so minutes from sprite’s folks’ place, so the drive isn’t an all-day time suck.

I arrived at the resort about 20 minutes before the lifts started turning, and there was already a large queue at the Bluebird Express lift, the only chair serving the summit of the mountain. That was fine by me, as I wanted to start my day on something a bit less of a full commitment. So, after picking up my lift ticket (pro tip: buy online in advance, it saves a decent amount of money), I donned my skis, tightened the strap on my new Briko helmet, and proceeded to the Canyon Express lift, which serves the lower half of Mount Snow’s front face.

As I rode solo on the lift (all of the crowd – and I mean all of it – was heading toward the summit on Bluebird), I surveyed the open terrain: two rolling intermediate-level slopes, recently groomed, with excellent snow cover. I assessed my legs, and both seemed up to the task. I did have a little trepidation, as I wasn’t able to get a needed shim installed on my right boot to compensate for the loss of femoral length (1.5 cm) on #projectfemur. But this was going to be a low-key, low-speed day, so being a little bit out of balance wasn’t a big deal.

Most of all: I was elated to be back on skis!

As I promised myself and friends, I took it easy. The lack of shims on my right boot meant that turns involving said foot would be awkward, and that flat-footed gliding would be nigh-on-impossible. But, just like riding a bike, the feel came back. My back wasn’t in the best of shape (strained it a week prior), so I decided to mete out my runs in small chunks. Eventually, I waded into the crowd to catch a ride to the summit, where I snapped the panorama you see at the top of this post – it was a beautiful day, ideal for skiing and being outdoors.

After three runs of short-swing, slow GS turns, and stance drills, I retreated to the base lodge for coffee and some light stretching while I waited for the lunch spot to open. I figured that taking an early lunch would allow me to enjoy shorter queues as the crowds ate.

As you can see, the queue for Bluebird Express was quite large while I ate my chili and enjoyed a local microbrew (and Canyon Express was handling the overflow, and had a decently long queue, as well):

After lunch, I decided to explore more of the open terrain at the mountain, heading over to the Carinthia area. Yes, it’s technically a terrain park, but this early in the season most of the runs are groomed, without the rails, jumps, and other trappings of the park crowd. The snow was soft and easy on my legs and back, and I was able to enjoy a slow ride up one of the few old-school, fixed grip lifts remaining at Mount Snow.

I skied until 1:45pm or so, as my lower back started to ache and impede my skiing motions. I managed nine runs for the day, soaking in each one as I did my first outdoor bike rides back in August. There was a lot of smiling, laughing, and joyful yodeling easily traced back to me.

Yes, there’s work to be done – namely, getting my right boot shimmed and re-aligned to the new reality of #projectfemur. But it was skiing, it was brilliant, I was back in my element – home, again.

starting re-entry… slowly… (#projectfemur)

It’s less than a month until I’m back to riding full-time on the road. I’m keeping busy during that time.

The workouts continue, with increasing intensity and focus. My time in the gym is spent mostly either in the weight room, where I’m building leg and arm strength, or in the stretching area, where I can work on core strength and flexibility. The latter is something I’m working on a lot in PT, where Scott and Megan have been working diligently to make my repaired leg every bit as capable as its healthy neighbor.

Next challenge for that: rotational flexibility. To visualize what that is: I can’t sit cross-legged on the floor right now, as my right leg can’t rotate and lie flat just yet. Soon – just another goal in my sight.

This morning I started the next step in my bike training with Matt at District Cycle Works: morning workouts on a Wahoo Kickr. This is a major step up from the Star Trac eSpinner I’ve been using at the gym, as it allows me to use my own bike for the workouts. It also pairs with my Garmin Edge 500 and my iPhone to record my rides and the associated data, including power output. This opens a whole world of possibilities for my workouts as I head into the home stretch.

Most of all, though, it’s fun to be able to workout with friends who will actually converse with me.

Wahoo!!!

That’s something that’s sorely lacking at the gym, where folks tend to fold into the insular shells provided by the ever-present earbuds.

Just so you don’t think it’s all about the bike (do I owe that Armstrong guy a royalty for trotting out that phrase?), I’ve also spent some time on the beach, where I tested out my run.

Running!

It was awesome!

I’ve also been dipping my toe back into local government – very local, as in the Advisory Neighborhood Commission’s Transportation and Public Infrastructure Committee. Basically, this committee advises the ANC (which is a step below the District Council) in all matters walking, cycling, parking, and parks. While I was brought into the fold because of cycling, as a pedestrian during my convalescence, I’ve gained a lot of knowledge of mode share issues that affect this committee. I’ve already penned a letter to DDOT, asking for follow-through on motions passed by the ANC back in 2012, and look forward to doing – and learning – more as my tenure grows.

And I’ve been working with some of my fellow ski coaches to come up with a fitness plan for our junior racers. I’d like to see all of the athletes come into the ski season in peak physical shape, not only to allow them a great chance of meeting (and exceeding) their goals, but also to provide them more safety against injury. Hopefully this will get some traction within the team – I know similar plans helped me achieve my skiing goals when I was younger.

What else is there to say? Sometimes you need to look at the details to see where you need to go…

Shados in surf

Maybe Jimi Hendrix said it best, regarding the impending next steps of my #projectfemur recovery:

“And so castles made of sand, fall in the sea, eventually.”

Sandcastle at Bethany Beach

project femur (or how my ski season ended with a bang)

There’s no way to keep this brief, so here goes:

Last Saturday, I was skiing at Liberty Mountain, Pennsylvania, coaching their alpine race team. The weather had been foggy and rainy all day, a once hard-as-rock snow surface turned into a slushy, peeling mess.

On our penultimate run of the day, the kids, my fellow coach, Tyler, and I were taking a run on Lower Ultra, making giant slalom turns. The snow, by this point (12:40pm), was really soupy. About 3/4 way down the run, I caught the edge of my right ski in the snow. I was going approximately 40 miles per hour, and was now hurtling, with little control, toward a stand of trees and rocks.

My instinct was to avoid hitting the tree, so I tried to self-arrest, stopping myself before going off the trail and into the woods. I tumbled and tried to stop. My left ski released. My right ski planted itself perpendicular to the fall line, sank into the snow, and stuck, while my body kept rotating counter-clockwise. The ski didn’t release.

Something snapped. I tumbled one more time, and my right leg whipped around and landed in an awkward way, rotated out of a normal position.

“Fuck,” I thought, “I’m really hurt – and nobody knows I’m here.”

I didn’t move, not wanting to injure myself further. Adrenaline masked the pain. Two lift attendants saw the crash and called the ski patrol. Patrol arrived within 5 minutes, as did some of my fellow coaches. I was put on a backboard, my right leg rotated 45 degrees outward from its normal position. Had I dislocated my hip? Had I broken my hip or leg?

This would not be known until I could get to a hospital. The ski patrol loaded me on the backboard onto a sled and took me to the resort base, where I was transferred to an ambulance (the EMT with the ambulance recognized me from the Civil War Century – the ambulance was based in Fairfield, PA). Having had no pain medication, this really hurt, but I pushed through the pain.

30-or-so minutes later, we arrived at Gettysburg Hospital, where I was whisked into an exam room. I was given an IV drip of pain meds, which helped blunt the searing pain. I was given X-rays, which showed a dislocated (i.e. spiral) fracture of my right femur, a couple inches below the femoral head, and other damage that may have been pelvis fractures.

No wonder I hurt!

Given I was skiing so fast at the time of the fall, the orthopedist at Gettysburg wanted me to be transferred to a level one trauma center for my next steps. So I was given another ambulance ride, this time to George Washington University Hospital. Ativan helped me sleep through the whole ride (save for the last two miles, where I helped the drivers find the hospital).

New X-rays determined that only my femur was broken (very good news), and a CT scan showed no internal injuries. Early Sunday morning, I had surgery to repair my femur: four pins and a rod are my latest additions. Four hours of surgery produced a repaired, but very sore and tired, me.

Since then, I’ve been working to heal. It’s not easy. I can’t currently bear weight on the repaired leg. My upper body strength isn’t great, so standing up and using a walker is very difficult.

But I’m carrying on. I’ll be transferred to an outpatient physical therapy facility in the next day or two, where I’ll likely spend two weeks. I hope to be back on my bike by late spring, and skiing again next winter.

today’s adventure: strap ’em on!

First day of skiing for the 2013-14 season is in the books.

It was a great day to ski in Vermont: cold, dry, sunny, calm wind, and no crowds for the first two hours.

I actually took 17 runs - a bug in the software, tho the other data is OK.

I actually took 4 17 runs – a bug in the software, tho the other data is OK.

This was my first time using Ski Tracks, a smartphone app that tracks ski data. It separates uphill data from the descents, which is really cool. It’s not without problems, though. When I paused the app for lunch, it lost count of my total runs – or at least reset the run count. I had 8 11 runs before lunch, 6 after. It did retain the rest of my data, though, so… a bug.

My runs and lift rides at Okemo, in nifty map-track format!

My runs and lift rides at Okemo, in nifty map-track format!

It was nice to get some time on skis before my coaching gig starts in two weeks.

transitions (or trading shoes for boots)

This morning, I woke up and brewed coffee. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and toasted an English muffin. I then donned my cycling togs (longer layers, as it’s chilly outside, with wind in the forecast), packed a bag, topped off the bike’s tires, lubed the chain, loaded up the car, drove to Bowie to meet my friends.

In other words: it was a typical Saturday morning.

We rolled out from Allen Pond Park: Jonathan, Chris, Mark, Ed, and me. Our plan was to ride a smooth, off-season pace, no county line sprints, on a route that gently rolled down to Chesapeake Bay and back. The sky was streaked with cirrus and cirrostratus clouds, with a cool breeze from the northwest – it was a perfect day to ride.

As we rode, the conversation was fun, and everybody seemed to be in a fine mood. Our bikes all wheeled along quietly. We passed farms with horses, cattle, sheep, and weary farmers. One pasture had a girl flying a kite.

 Girl flying a kite

The halfway point was Sweet Sue’s, our usual break spot. The hot drinks were just so-so (the folks behind the counter just couldn’t pull a quality espresso shot), but the baked goods were up to their usual yummy standard.

Rolling north along the Chesapeake, we were spared the bad wind, and treated to myriad lovely views. The wind that was there was increasingly chilly, and the cloud cover became thicker the closer we got to our cars.

 

After we were done riding, I went by the local ski shop to pick up my new skis and old boots so I’ll be ready for my coaching duties, which should be starting in mid December (though I hope to ski next weekend while up north for the holiday). The excitement that coursed through my body and mind when I took hold of the new skis for the first time was infectious.

 Redsters

And tonight, there were snow flurries in DC. I went outside, giggled with glee, and danced a little dance of joy (not to worry, DC snow paranoids: it didn’t stick).

sprite in the snow
The transition from my summer sporting love to my winter sporting love is in motion – and today’s transition between the two worlds made it very clear to me. While the cycling shoes won’t be totally hung up for the winter – I’ll still ride a bit, and my bike commute won’t go away – my boots are going to be the go-to footwear for fun when the snow flies.

Winter is coming, and I’m prepared – and elated.

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