Training Log Archive: Swampfox

Celebrated the beginning of calendar summer by running a training course at Sugar Hill, and pretty much nailed my start time to the official start time for summer. I did take a moment to look around for summer and see what it was wearing, but all I saw were cattle. As for myself, I was wearing "classic days" IKHP.

The course was 10.7 kms and featured some tricky early loops with repeated visits to several controls--that is, tricky if you didn't pay attention to the helpful control numbers. Which I didn't, so already as I was confidently headed for #3, in reality I was running to #6, and it wasn't until I was confidently running to #4--but in actuality running to #5--that something kicked off in my mind to wonder if I was really headed for the right controls in order. On my was at last to the real #3, I first ran to the wrong bare rock knoll about 20m from the right one. And then a short leg took me into an ambiguous area with lots of details, to look for one rock feature (boulder) among, made harder by the fact I didn't know how big the boulder I was looking for was supposed to be as well as the fact that there were a number of off-height rocks in the area to make things more difficult. This forced a stop and I had to take a long look at the scene to finally decided which was the correct boulder.

By now, only 4 controls into the course, nothing had gone well and that's the way it felt, too. Sometimes when things go like that, it's tempting to give up and surrender, that the training is already so botched that the whole thing has been ruined and now pointless.

Which is exactly wrong. There is huge emphasis in orienteering on physical and technical training, but I think rather little emphasis on mental training (I include myself). Mistakes are all but inevitable, and what counts then is how you handle it. I don't mean the technical aspect of how to correct a parallel error or something like that, but how you handle it mentally to put it behind you and keep a positive attitude about the rest of the race/training. Do you let a mistake bug you, and affect everything that follows, or are you able to immediately but it behind you and move on to the next race element?

For me, watching basketball has been helpful. In a typical game, each team might have 80 possessions, and I haven't seen a game yet where there haven't been at least some turnovers, missed crucial free throws or other easy shots, or some bad calls. Those things are going to happen, every game. What's interesting is to see how poorly some players react to these things that are going to happen every game, and how it can affect how they play not just the next possession, but sometimes several possessions, or even it affects them for the rest of the game. When as a spectator it seems so obvious and you wish you could tell the player "hey, put it behind you, forget about it, next play!"

The rest of the course went well. I had good flow, read the map well, did good compass work (not a strong point), and had really good balance moving through the terrain, which featured lots of sage and bitterbrush. Despite hitting all the usual number of things where your foot could get caught and lead to a stumble or fall, nothing came even close to that, even as I was getting more tired at the end. I finished with a good feeling, rather than still being disappointed/frustrated/unhappy about how things started off. I didn't surrender out there in the terrain, but I will surrender now (#471 according to some.)

https://www.dropbox.com/s/tbsdeaqoa7jk200/Surrende...

C • Basketball 3

Day 5 of coolness. While biking, I could see a line of rain off to the NW, just on this side of the Snowies, which wasn't concerning, because even if it moved straight east it wouldn't graze me. Except that when I put my back to it, it sneakily moved quickly to the SE and struck just as I was crossing the viaduct into downtown. At least it was easy to find shelter right there, and I hung out at the Train Depot. The storm clearly was unhappy about this, and you could tell because it deliberately slowed down and all but stopped, as it tried this way and that to strike me with hail. It didn't succeed in that, but by the time it gave up and moved off, I was getting chilly, dressed in nothing more than a short sleeved t-shirt and bike sorts.

Going up to the hills to run after that, I gave in, deciding the conditions warranted a light jacket. I probably could have gotten away without the jacket except for the fact I was still chilled from the bike ride/storm.

It was a good day for wildlife. In the morning, I was rolling down a dirt road on the north side of town and looked over to see a fox den 200' from the road, with 2 adults outside scanning the area and 1 kit looking for fun.

We used to have lots of foxes around and especially on the north edge of town it was often possible to spot a fox. Then they disappeared, felled by canine distemper (or so I was told). For a few years after that, the rabbit population in my neighborhood exploded and you would find them in your garage or in the passenger seat of your car, or staging protests in the streets. They had no fear, for a while. Now, with the foxes back, rabbit sightings have become much less common. Sometimes a young adult seeing a rabbit will run off frightened, having heard about tribbles and thinking they have seen one (if they're from Florida or SoCal and seeing snow for the first time, their reaction is often similar.)

Then, late in the day, now running down a trail at Happy Jack, not at all far ahead of me a very large bear ambled across the trail. I screeched to a stop. This was the largest bear I've seen and the closest I've been to a bear. I waited for a little bit to make sure no cubs were involved, and then proceeded cautiously with a 6' aspen staff I grabbed by the side of the trail. As it happened, I didn't see or hear anything more of the bear, and I'm not even sure it was aware of me--it was pretty noisy with wind, and it wasn't looking my way when I saw it. Or maybe it was aware of me, and just didn't care. To my more bear accustomed friends in NE, this would have been no big deal. Out here, however, a couple times of year someone gets killed or mauled, usually by grizzlies in the other end of the state, but even so, if you're not used to being around bears, maybe that's what you think about when you suddenly come across a bear at close range.

Ran threshold intervals; it was windy so I headed for the protection of the forest at Happy Jack rather than one of the jeep roads I usually use.

Definitely cooler today, and I gave some thought to wearing a light jacket, at least to warm up in. Not sure if it will be necessary to turn on the heat tonight or not.

I think it got warm today, but it was hard to be sure since it also got very windy. Decided to run anyway, and risked going without culing cubes or other cucumber type cooling devices. Luckily, it all worked out and I even survived.

Cool conditions with light breeze and light cloud cover--ideal for summer running. I took advantage of it by heading over to Pitcher Hill, where the sage took advantage of my legs. This was because I was disadvantaged by having left my gaitors (and O' shoes, good move!) at home. Funny, because I had some gnawing feeling in the background that maybe I hadn't brought along everything as I was leaving, but I dismissed it since I could look over and see the map.

There's nothing like running through the sage, and adding to that was the bitterbrush being in full bloom.