The "November" Project
Rain pounds the pavement. Click... click... click. Amid the droaning pitter-patter the distinct sound of rollerski poles clicking against the pavement can barely reach your ears- click... click... click. Rain jacket with hood fitted under helmet, ski tights, gloves, and boots - all are soaked through, saturated, and wet. Two hours into a solo three-hour double pole workout in the November forty-degree rain: all skiers know the feeling. Rollerski wheels first spray your frontside and back, you grow frustrated in misery, cold, and fatigue. Your feet grow numb and stiff as frigid water seeps in, you say screw it, I'm tenacious. A car speeds past without regard for puddles-turned-ponds and suddenly liquifies your very being in a piercing blast; you inhale deep, pick up the pace. Eyes wide open, your mind now engaged singularly with your technique, a thin, focused smile forms across your face. Game on.
Cross-country ski racing is a physical event, a sport of cardiovascular fitness, high VO2-maxes, muscular endurance and power, body coordination, balance, and technical mastery. Yet in every race in which I've ever participated their comes a moment - at least one - where I face a conscious choice either to engage my mind, persevere with my body, and elevate my effort (call it "Choice 1") or to relax, take the pedal off the gas, and disengage from my current level of exertion ("Choice 2"). No matter a result, if I finish a race knowing I made Choice 1 in every moment of uncertainty, I am content with my effort. I wish I could say this was the case 10 times out of 10 - it's not. I truly believe that the top skiers in the world have, in addition to a top-notch level of fitness and technical mastery, a top-notch ability to make Choice 1 time and time again. Cross-country skiing is a sport of not only physical, but also mental perseverance.
I remember joking around with some of the NMU guys about what a sweet fall training ski-team video would look like. You know all those US ski team dance vids and epic APU glacier vids - well Ian had a Go-Pro and we were semi-inspired. Dancing is great and all, but someone suggested an idea that embodies the mental perseverance of cross-country skiing: a 3-hour Go-Pro video of a rainy November double-pole, shot from the middle of a single-file rollerski train, with no soundtrack. Clicking through the video on youtube, someone might think we're a bunch of crazy people, or, maybe, that skiers can really mentally persevere. What's the secret? If there is one, its to embrace the challenge and take joy in the misery.
A few years back I first heard of a workout group in Boston who joined together each morning to work-out outside. Sounds pretty normal, right? But what was unique about this group was the origin of their motivation: cold, wet, rain, misery... namely, November. The group is called the November project (november-project.com), was founded under the idea of collectively embracing misery and now has a presence in over 32 cities. Learning to embrace a "November" workout, whether it be bounding intervals with your college team on a sunny day in September or hill repeats on snow at 7am with your Master's training group in dark December, I encourage you to embrace the challenge of the workout, engage your mind fully in your task, and enjoy fighting against "November".
My road to November has had its share of "November" workouts along the way. Since September testing week, which included a biathlon time trial, uphill run test, uphill rollerski test, and shooting tests, we've gone through two 4-week training blocks, with a modified block that included October biathlon rollerski trials in Jericho, VT sandwiched between. I was lucky to find some time to spend with my family amid all the training.
I spent a healthy weekend with my brothers Nate and Luke at Dartmouth, where Luke claims to be a student. Here I pick apples straight from Nate's ear, since Luke has too much hair to pick from his. We put in some classic skate rollerski hours as well as some paddling on the Connecticut River. And fun was had by all.
Racing in Jericho October trials was a valuable experience; I'm learning that it is of extra importance in biathlon to stay alert and keep your mind aware of what's happening in the race, your effort, and your readiness to focus and shoot. For example, I took a wrong turn during the Saturday sprint that proved costly. The coaches have been extremely helpful in constructively critiquing my approach to the sport, technique, and shooting strategies; here Bernd gets after me with mid-race technique tips.
Luke drove up from one Big Green to pose with another Big Green in Jericho. I'm managing all Luke's model inquiries, so if you're interested in scheduling a photo-shoot send me an email and I'll see if we can fit you in.
My parents also came out to watch the races and, afterward, visit Lake Placid. They sure got a genuine taste of the Adirondacks: the week started with beautiful fall weather and ended with rain and, finally, five inches of snow.
Two views of Indian Head, overlooking Lower Ausable Lake. Above was taken by Paul Schommer during a long run/hike two weeks prior to the photo of my Mom below.
Mom and Dad looking good in the snow, quite possibly their natural habitat. After a few days of rain we woke up to a winter wonderland on the morning of my parents' last day in town.
After Jericho we've had two additional time trials in Lake Placid. The first was with the USBA A-team and was a great opportunity to get in a solid effort with the best biathletes in the country before they left town for the world cup. The second was during a training camp with the Craftsbury GRP biathlon team; getting to train and talk biathlon with the GRP athletes was a very much welcomed addition to the Lake Placid routine. I look forward to seeing and racing these guys again, as well as more foosball matches (and hopefully less talk about the election!). Now only two weeks until Thanksgiving in West Yellowstone!
Coaches Duncan, Eric, and Jean manning the range while I dirty a stage in one of our Lake Placid TTs. I was pleased to get the dirty out of the way so I can simply shoot clean from here on out.
At the end of these November days I'm often in the sauna, activating some heat-shock proteins:
At the end of the day:
"Growth begins where comfort ends"
I'm challenging myself this year to embrace the uncomfortable in pursuit of athletic, personal, and spiritual growth. Where's an area in your life in which you want to grow? Challenge yourself to embrace its "November" aspects!
