So it has been over a year since I updated my blog. In that time I finished 2nd year university, had some good races, some bad races and some okay races, went treeplanting, and moved from Sudbury to Oro-Medonte, to join the Southern Ontario Training Centre. And now the racing season begins in earnest. Tomorrow we fly to BC for two weeks of racing, starting with a week in Whistler with the World Junior Trials at Callaghan Valley, and then we travel to Canmore for Western Canadian Championships.
I am excited for this block of racing; Canmore and Callaghan have been very good for me in the past, and I feel in excellent shape. What I am most intrigued by is my sprinting form, as I have had some very good sensations and performances in sprinting and speed workouts in the past couple of weeks. I have never been a good sprinter, but I hoping to do something significant (for me at least) in the two skate sprints we are doing out west.
I hope to try to update this page more frequently for this season. I'll also try to take a few pictures while at the races, seeing as I now finally have a working camera. I've set myself the goal of trying to qualify for the 2013 World University Games, and that process starts this Thursday.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Monday, November 22, 2010
Gifted Students
I was an enhanced student for most of my public school career. I was first picked out by my second grade teacher, who quickly realized something was up when I would stay after school in order to say everything I didn't get to say during the regular hours of school. I would clean the chalkboards, put chairs back, tidy up, just to have the chance to talk not with, but at the teacher. Evidently what I was saying was not what most normal grade two students say, because, when tested by a child psychologist, I was identified as being a gifted student, and, for a 7 year old boy, an exceptional orator. So, I spent grade three missing music class every week to go hang out in a room overlooking the gymnasium, working on independant projects which we presented to the class. Steph, the only other student who attended these sessions, recalls the entire class staring at me, bored, confused, as I used models made out of butterfly pins and cardboard to demonstrate why triangles are the best shape for making bridge trusses out of.
I did of year of this, which was referred to as Mode II, and then, in grade 4, I was put on a bus and shipped across town to the now closed Lyndwood Public School. I remember one evening, towards the end of grade 3, my Dad drove me out to Lyndwood, just to see what it looked like. We ate dinner at Harvey's that night. He remembers me being excited at the prospect of going to a new school. I remember crying myself to sleep that night. But, come a falls day in 2000, I got on the school bus at 8am at the end of my street and went to Lyndwood. In May of last year, we had an orientation day at Lyndwood. I met a boy named Nick. I found out that a boy named Gavin, the son of a woman my Mum rowed with, would also be there. Had I found my place, found a school that had other people like me. It wasn't to be. I was at Lyndwood for five years. Comparing my elementary school education to friends of mine who attended normal programs, I found there to be little difference. We still had our creativity squashed by teachers who mistook creativity for troublemaking, who considered themselves infalliable and did not like it when students attempted to engage them in intelligent conversation.
That is not to say that all the teachers at Lyndwood were bad. I had some excellent teachers, teachers who challenged us, made us think, treated us, if not like adults, at least not like children. I did a 35 minute presentation on cross country skiing. I built a glider with a 2 metre wingspan out of balsa wood and cardboard tubing. I did a graph based analysis of Air Canada's aircraft fleet. I went to the provincial finals of the Canadian Geography Challenge, twice, and on my first attempt, in grade 7, I lost a sudden death tiebreaker to get into the final round and a shot at getting to Nationals.
I got in trouble a lot too. There were plenty of phone calls home, plenty of conversations with my parents that ended with me in tears, at a loss to explain why I shoved a teacher, why I stormed out of class, why I tried to whip a kid with my sweater. I started seeing a social worker, I started spending more time in the office then in class. I was bored. School was constricting, controlling, crushing. The school program that supposedly existed to encourage creativity seemed hellbent on conforming all their students into an oppresively rigid model. I had never heard of Foucault, but if the school library had a copy of Discipline and Punish, I would have taken it with me when I left for highschool.
I am not sure what I am trying to prove here. My experience with gifted education in elementary school did me no favours later on. How much work, or the quality of the work, that was handed in was completely disconnected from the marks on our report cards, no one ever taught me how to study, or even that I should study. The system is broken, and it needs to be fixed.
Being gifted, at least in my experience, is more of a blessing then a curse. I quickly dropped the label, referring to myself in the jargon of educational academia. I was "enhanced", in "mode III", "streamed", "skewed". That didn't help. I was unable to connect with my peers in any real way, I prefer to company of adults, teachers compared to students, camp counsellours as opposed to campers. I remember discussing A Clockwork Orange with a counsellour on the way to camp when I was extremely young. The only children I bonded with, I was only able to partially connect with, through books, chess and checkers, through the creation of fantasy lands and people. I was LARPing before I had any concept of role playing. In my mind, Redwall existed. This disconnect from reality meant I was disconnected from my peers. Ministicks in the school yard was boring. My favourite soccer position was sweeper, because it didn't require working with anyone else, just getting the ball and kicking it away from my net.
Being gifted left me isolated, away from other students, missing out on so many of the skills we pick up at a young age. Learning social skills just never happened to my younger self, as I never seemed to end up in any situation where knowledge of social niceties would come in handy. Until I was in high school, my social skills would allow me to pass for civilized, if barely. But I am getting off topic. It's whatever it was that made me lecture my grade two teacher on three stage rockets showing through.
Gifted students need to be encouraged. The most successful events that happened to me in school consisted of giving us the resources and free reign over how we wanted to use them. We were not teaching ourselves, we were guided, directed, in our manic activities. But we had freedom, to express, to discover. Subjecting children who are intelligent, but skewed, confused, creative, to the machinations of a school system is just cruel. Lyndwood was a meat grinder. I emerged from that school mad at the world, bitter, distrusting authority, confused. We can do better. We need to do better.
I did of year of this, which was referred to as Mode II, and then, in grade 4, I was put on a bus and shipped across town to the now closed Lyndwood Public School. I remember one evening, towards the end of grade 3, my Dad drove me out to Lyndwood, just to see what it looked like. We ate dinner at Harvey's that night. He remembers me being excited at the prospect of going to a new school. I remember crying myself to sleep that night. But, come a falls day in 2000, I got on the school bus at 8am at the end of my street and went to Lyndwood. In May of last year, we had an orientation day at Lyndwood. I met a boy named Nick. I found out that a boy named Gavin, the son of a woman my Mum rowed with, would also be there. Had I found my place, found a school that had other people like me. It wasn't to be. I was at Lyndwood for five years. Comparing my elementary school education to friends of mine who attended normal programs, I found there to be little difference. We still had our creativity squashed by teachers who mistook creativity for troublemaking, who considered themselves infalliable and did not like it when students attempted to engage them in intelligent conversation.
That is not to say that all the teachers at Lyndwood were bad. I had some excellent teachers, teachers who challenged us, made us think, treated us, if not like adults, at least not like children. I did a 35 minute presentation on cross country skiing. I built a glider with a 2 metre wingspan out of balsa wood and cardboard tubing. I did a graph based analysis of Air Canada's aircraft fleet. I went to the provincial finals of the Canadian Geography Challenge, twice, and on my first attempt, in grade 7, I lost a sudden death tiebreaker to get into the final round and a shot at getting to Nationals.
I got in trouble a lot too. There were plenty of phone calls home, plenty of conversations with my parents that ended with me in tears, at a loss to explain why I shoved a teacher, why I stormed out of class, why I tried to whip a kid with my sweater. I started seeing a social worker, I started spending more time in the office then in class. I was bored. School was constricting, controlling, crushing. The school program that supposedly existed to encourage creativity seemed hellbent on conforming all their students into an oppresively rigid model. I had never heard of Foucault, but if the school library had a copy of Discipline and Punish, I would have taken it with me when I left for highschool.
I am not sure what I am trying to prove here. My experience with gifted education in elementary school did me no favours later on. How much work, or the quality of the work, that was handed in was completely disconnected from the marks on our report cards, no one ever taught me how to study, or even that I should study. The system is broken, and it needs to be fixed.
Being gifted, at least in my experience, is more of a blessing then a curse. I quickly dropped the label, referring to myself in the jargon of educational academia. I was "enhanced", in "mode III", "streamed", "skewed". That didn't help. I was unable to connect with my peers in any real way, I prefer to company of adults, teachers compared to students, camp counsellours as opposed to campers. I remember discussing A Clockwork Orange with a counsellour on the way to camp when I was extremely young. The only children I bonded with, I was only able to partially connect with, through books, chess and checkers, through the creation of fantasy lands and people. I was LARPing before I had any concept of role playing. In my mind, Redwall existed. This disconnect from reality meant I was disconnected from my peers. Ministicks in the school yard was boring. My favourite soccer position was sweeper, because it didn't require working with anyone else, just getting the ball and kicking it away from my net.
Being gifted left me isolated, away from other students, missing out on so many of the skills we pick up at a young age. Learning social skills just never happened to my younger self, as I never seemed to end up in any situation where knowledge of social niceties would come in handy. Until I was in high school, my social skills would allow me to pass for civilized, if barely. But I am getting off topic. It's whatever it was that made me lecture my grade two teacher on three stage rockets showing through.
Gifted students need to be encouraged. The most successful events that happened to me in school consisted of giving us the resources and free reign over how we wanted to use them. We were not teaching ourselves, we were guided, directed, in our manic activities. But we had freedom, to express, to discover. Subjecting children who are intelligent, but skewed, confused, creative, to the machinations of a school system is just cruel. Lyndwood was a meat grinder. I emerged from that school mad at the world, bitter, distrusting authority, confused. We can do better. We need to do better.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Finland, Day One
At the last minute, I decided to go to Finland with the Ontario Ski Team, to train in the Ski Tunnel in Vuokatti, Finland. I got offered the spot when a skier who was supposed to be going on the trip backed out. So, I hopped on a plane, and am now sitting in a chalet at the Vuokatti Sports Centre. Its my first time I have left the country since I was eight, and by far the farthest I've been from home. The tunnel itself is 1250 metres long, rolling terrain, and is an out and back loop. Its rather cold, about five degrees below zero, the air is humid, and the snow is old, hard and icy. Getting back on snow was a strange feeling, and my first day my biggest focus was just getting comfortable, getting used to being on skis, adapting myself to the motions and demands that not even rollerskiing can fully recreate. I only skied an hour, but it felt good to be on snow again, and really cool to be skiing in August.
The Russian Biathlon team is here, as are a lot of Finnish club teams. One of the local clubs is actually coached by the former coach of NTDC Thunder Bay. So the tunnel was pretty packed, but its wide enough that passing is easy, and everyone has plenty of room to ski. We met a man from Michigan, who came here 14 years ago as an exchange student, and decided to stay, who was at lunch with his wife and their two little kids. He used to ski race when he was younger, and we learned a lot about what to do while in Vuokatti.
It looks a lot like Northern Ontario here, the same trees, same climate, same kind of terrain. The weather is cooler then at home, which is good for training outside of the tunnel. After the intense heat that Ontario has gone through, its nice to be able to train without undergoing intense dehydration.
The Russian Biathlon team is here, as are a lot of Finnish club teams. One of the local clubs is actually coached by the former coach of NTDC Thunder Bay. So the tunnel was pretty packed, but its wide enough that passing is easy, and everyone has plenty of room to ski. We met a man from Michigan, who came here 14 years ago as an exchange student, and decided to stay, who was at lunch with his wife and their two little kids. He used to ski race when he was younger, and we learned a lot about what to do while in Vuokatti.
It looks a lot like Northern Ontario here, the same trees, same climate, same kind of terrain. The weather is cooler then at home, which is good for training outside of the tunnel. After the intense heat that Ontario has gone through, its nice to be able to train without undergoing intense dehydration.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Blisters
I have so many blisters on my hands. 24, to be exact. That's why I love rollerskiing without gloves.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Why Are There Children at the Gym?/High School English
First off, I do not like going to the gym. Weight rooms, at least all the ones I've been in, tend to be populated with guys who spend more time checking out their muscles in the mirror and listening to David Guetta on 200 dollar headphones, and when they actually get around to doing something, put so much weight on the bar that the spotter is working as hard as the person actually doing the exercise. In my experience, these people tend to be football or hockey players, overly fond of leaving weights on the equipment, tacking up a lot of space, and, on occasion, offering advice that is not only unhelpful, but in some cases dangerous. Despite this, they are not the most annoying people to frequent gyms. That title belongs to the children.
My gym has a lot of personal trainers, and although they all do the normal personal trainer stuff, they also seem to function as baby sitters. For parents have become incredibly fond of dropping off a nine year old kid to spend an hour with a personal trainer once or twice a week. And the kids do the exact same stuff everyone else does. I've seen kids on the cross trainers, far too short to reach the proper hand grips, kids doing a chin assist, holding on to the frame of the machine because their arms can't reach the bars. And beside them, there is a personal trainer, with a clipboard, encouraging them, then bringing them over to the next exercise. This is all done while ignoring the sign saying something to the effect of "no one under 15 in the weight room or fitness centre (children 13-15 may use the facility if they have passed the "teen training" course), and its just surreal.
Kids don't need personal trainers, kids don't need gym memberships, kids don't need treadmills. Kids need to run around outside, to play, to make friendships, to, slowly, get older. Although I admire the parents attempts to get their kids to do physical activity, signing them up for personal trainers is not the answer. Want your kid to get an hour of physical activity without having to worry about them? The same gym offers tennis and squash lessons for kids, in a group, as opposed to alone, so they can make friends AND strike a blow against childhood obesity. Sign them up for soccer lessons. Go out for a bike ride with them. Take them skiing in the winter. Don't sign them up for a personal trainer. None of the kids ever appear happy when in the gym. All this is doing is instilling a hatred of the gym in them. There is definitely a time when it is worthwhile going to the gym, but wait until you've grown up a bit, and can use the machines without the risk of stunting your growth. If you haven't hit puberty yet, there is absolutely no reason why you should be there.
In our bid to make our kids smarter, fitter, happier, more productive, (anyone get the Radiohead reference? Didn't think so) we've made them fat, lazy and stupid. Alright, that may be a bit extreme, but when we coddle and control, kids learn fuck all. Not only that, when we force activities they already do on them, they stop liking them. I was a voracious reader when I was in elementary school. I read hours every day. I read everything I could get my hands on. By the time I'd finished grade three, I'd finished The Lord of the Rings. I didn't understand anything in it in the slightest. I read A Clockwork Orange in grade six, and talked in Nadsat for several months. I pretended to be Martin the Warrior. I wanted an electronic thumb. Erik was way more badass in the serial novel then in any ALW musical. Zamyatin could eat Orwell for breakfast. All the librarians knew my name. And then I hit high school. I still read, reading was an escape from the land of social outcast where I most of my elementary school life and the first half of my high school career. Reading understood me when I was feeling lost, comforted me when I was sad. I wrote what I called "Black Comedies" when I felt angry, channeling the hate and violence I felt into bizarre short stories. The English language was there for me, even when I felt nothing else was. And then I encountered high school English.
First day of grade nine, first day of high school, French homeroom, science, lunch, English, music. I had a book in my bag, as per usual, and was reading it whenever I got a chance. Book was called Skybreaker, by Kenneth Oppel. I was a little old for it, or so my thirteen year old self thought, but it was the sequel to a book i really loved, so I borrowed it from my sister, and brought it to school. I put it on my lap in English class, and began to read. I'd learned very quickly that after you've got the seating arrangement figured out and confirmed that yes, you are supposed to be here, the rest of the first day of class is pretty much a write off in high school, especially in grade nine. So I kept half an ear on the teacher droning away at the front of the class, and dove into the world of giant airships and adventure. I read onwards, cheering for the narrator, trying to figure out what was going to happen, trying to outsmart the author. In front of the blackboard, the teacher had really gotten going about the importance that reading played in a modern society, that, unless a society read frequently and stayed literate, it was doomed. Then she looked at me, stopped, looked down at her seating plan, and said, loudly and forcefully "Evan! Stop Reading!" Luckily, the combination of being a scared little grade nine and the fact that I'd never gotten in this much trouble for reading before led me to confused to come up with a smart ass come back, which would have set my life on a totally different trajectory, so I sheepishly put the book back in my bag, and sat their, developing an instant dislike for this anti-reading English teacher.
I don't read as much now as I did when I was younger. There are a few reasons for this. I have something of a social life now, so that takes up time, and I'm a university student, and train and race lots for skiing. The Laurentian University Library only seems to have about 5 fiction books worth reading, and I've read them all. And I often find I'm too tired to read anything complex, and I can't stand most simple books, so I often end up reading the same books over and over again. And I spend way more time on my computer, mainly searching the internet, and I read a lot online, but far too few novels, far too few works of popular history, far too few books on some fascinating event no one seems to know about. Its depressing. And I place the blame on high school English. It takes an activity that most children do, given the opportunity and a book they like, and takes the fun out of it. It heaps piles upon piles of bullshit all over the written word, it makes it so unfun. It sucks. You want your children to be literate? If they already read, don't suppress that with English classes. Encourage it. And fight back against the idiots at the front of the class who insist on taking all the fun out of reading. Shoot back.
My gym has a lot of personal trainers, and although they all do the normal personal trainer stuff, they also seem to function as baby sitters. For parents have become incredibly fond of dropping off a nine year old kid to spend an hour with a personal trainer once or twice a week. And the kids do the exact same stuff everyone else does. I've seen kids on the cross trainers, far too short to reach the proper hand grips, kids doing a chin assist, holding on to the frame of the machine because their arms can't reach the bars. And beside them, there is a personal trainer, with a clipboard, encouraging them, then bringing them over to the next exercise. This is all done while ignoring the sign saying something to the effect of "no one under 15 in the weight room or fitness centre (children 13-15 may use the facility if they have passed the "teen training" course), and its just surreal.
Kids don't need personal trainers, kids don't need gym memberships, kids don't need treadmills. Kids need to run around outside, to play, to make friendships, to, slowly, get older. Although I admire the parents attempts to get their kids to do physical activity, signing them up for personal trainers is not the answer. Want your kid to get an hour of physical activity without having to worry about them? The same gym offers tennis and squash lessons for kids, in a group, as opposed to alone, so they can make friends AND strike a blow against childhood obesity. Sign them up for soccer lessons. Go out for a bike ride with them. Take them skiing in the winter. Don't sign them up for a personal trainer. None of the kids ever appear happy when in the gym. All this is doing is instilling a hatred of the gym in them. There is definitely a time when it is worthwhile going to the gym, but wait until you've grown up a bit, and can use the machines without the risk of stunting your growth. If you haven't hit puberty yet, there is absolutely no reason why you should be there.
In our bid to make our kids smarter, fitter, happier, more productive, (anyone get the Radiohead reference? Didn't think so) we've made them fat, lazy and stupid. Alright, that may be a bit extreme, but when we coddle and control, kids learn fuck all. Not only that, when we force activities they already do on them, they stop liking them. I was a voracious reader when I was in elementary school. I read hours every day. I read everything I could get my hands on. By the time I'd finished grade three, I'd finished The Lord of the Rings. I didn't understand anything in it in the slightest. I read A Clockwork Orange in grade six, and talked in Nadsat for several months. I pretended to be Martin the Warrior. I wanted an electronic thumb. Erik was way more badass in the serial novel then in any ALW musical. Zamyatin could eat Orwell for breakfast. All the librarians knew my name. And then I hit high school. I still read, reading was an escape from the land of social outcast where I most of my elementary school life and the first half of my high school career. Reading understood me when I was feeling lost, comforted me when I was sad. I wrote what I called "Black Comedies" when I felt angry, channeling the hate and violence I felt into bizarre short stories. The English language was there for me, even when I felt nothing else was. And then I encountered high school English.
First day of grade nine, first day of high school, French homeroom, science, lunch, English, music. I had a book in my bag, as per usual, and was reading it whenever I got a chance. Book was called Skybreaker, by Kenneth Oppel. I was a little old for it, or so my thirteen year old self thought, but it was the sequel to a book i really loved, so I borrowed it from my sister, and brought it to school. I put it on my lap in English class, and began to read. I'd learned very quickly that after you've got the seating arrangement figured out and confirmed that yes, you are supposed to be here, the rest of the first day of class is pretty much a write off in high school, especially in grade nine. So I kept half an ear on the teacher droning away at the front of the class, and dove into the world of giant airships and adventure. I read onwards, cheering for the narrator, trying to figure out what was going to happen, trying to outsmart the author. In front of the blackboard, the teacher had really gotten going about the importance that reading played in a modern society, that, unless a society read frequently and stayed literate, it was doomed. Then she looked at me, stopped, looked down at her seating plan, and said, loudly and forcefully "Evan! Stop Reading!" Luckily, the combination of being a scared little grade nine and the fact that I'd never gotten in this much trouble for reading before led me to confused to come up with a smart ass come back, which would have set my life on a totally different trajectory, so I sheepishly put the book back in my bag, and sat their, developing an instant dislike for this anti-reading English teacher.
I don't read as much now as I did when I was younger. There are a few reasons for this. I have something of a social life now, so that takes up time, and I'm a university student, and train and race lots for skiing. The Laurentian University Library only seems to have about 5 fiction books worth reading, and I've read them all. And I often find I'm too tired to read anything complex, and I can't stand most simple books, so I often end up reading the same books over and over again. And I spend way more time on my computer, mainly searching the internet, and I read a lot online, but far too few novels, far too few works of popular history, far too few books on some fascinating event no one seems to know about. Its depressing. And I place the blame on high school English. It takes an activity that most children do, given the opportunity and a book they like, and takes the fun out of it. It heaps piles upon piles of bullshit all over the written word, it makes it so unfun. It sucks. You want your children to be literate? If they already read, don't suppress that with English classes. Encourage it. And fight back against the idiots at the front of the class who insist on taking all the fun out of reading. Shoot back.
Friday, May 28, 2010
It has been a long time since I've done anything with this. So, goal for the next couple years? FISU games in Slovenia, 2013. It's on.
Goal for the next little while? Get on Mantracker! Pat and I are in the process of auditioning, which requires a short video and a several page application. If we can pull this off, it'll be one of the coolest things I've ever done. We're planning to rely on speed and the ability of people to go where horses cannot. Pat and I are both accomplished wilderness runners, so that should not be a problem. 3-4 kilometres per hour cross country is not that hard a feat, and if we just keep moving, we can outrun him. Simple.
Also, I don't have a place to live for next year, so if there is anyone living in Sudbury close to the university who is willing to rent me a room for a couple months, let me know.
And, to finish it off, some Slovenian madness: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-zSRcFxZVAA
Goal for the next little while? Get on Mantracker! Pat and I are in the process of auditioning, which requires a short video and a several page application. If we can pull this off, it'll be one of the coolest things I've ever done. We're planning to rely on speed and the ability of people to go where horses cannot. Pat and I are both accomplished wilderness runners, so that should not be a problem. 3-4 kilometres per hour cross country is not that hard a feat, and if we just keep moving, we can outrun him. Simple.
Also, I don't have a place to live for next year, so if there is anyone living in Sudbury close to the university who is willing to rent me a room for a couple months, let me know.
And, to finish it off, some Slovenian madness: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-zSRcFxZVAA
Sunday, January 17, 2010
OU Racing
I had my first Ontario University circuit races this weekend in North Bay. Saturday was a 15km (3x5) individual start skate race at North Bay Nordic, Sunday was a 9km (3x3)individual start classic at Nipissing University. I'm normally not a huge fan of the North Bay courses, as this is my 4th year in a row racing there, and I haven't exactly had the races I've wanted in the past.
I also haven't had the start to the season i've wanted. My races in Thunder Bay and at World Junior Trials in Valcartier didn't go as well as I'd hoped, and I didn't have the form I was looking for.
It was warm during the pre-ski, and extremely soft on the steep uphills, and almost a skating rink on the flats, downhills and more gradual climbs. The North Bay red loop starts with over a kilometre of gradual climbing, and this was the first year I felt that I could one skate the entire thing without blowing my arms out and having nothing for the next laps. I finally felt that this was a course I could do some damage on.
It was warm and overcast the morning of the race. I'd talked to Dean the night before, and we agreed that a more relaxed start was the way to go. So my first lap, instead of full out attacking the course, i started slowly and controlled, focusing on my technique and staying calm and relaxed. I tried to go to the side of the trail at one point, where it looked firmer, but my ski sunk into the snow and i tripped, which was annoying. The slow start combined with the fall did mean i was 30 seconds down after one lap, which drove Dean a little nuts when I passed him at the top of the course where he was doing splits, so he went a little frantic when I passed him, so I upped the pace a bit and recorded the 6th fastest lap time. The downhill was really good, I flew through the corners, and even got a bit of air time at one point. I had a bit more urgency the next time around, but the course had gotten much softer, so I was over 45 seconds slower, despite putting in a lot more effort. Nonetheless, I got the 2nd fastest lap time, and started clawing my way back, moving ahead of Konie, my teammate, and a few others, then moving up to 3rd. I had a good final lap, but I didn't think I'd done enough to land on the podium, and thought that a top six would be the best I could come up with. However, I crossed the line, and was informed by Peggy Winter that I was in first.
It was nerve wracking watching live results coming in, watching skiers I know to be quick cross the line. I eventually fell to third, but in my first ever OU race, as the the only first year on the podium, and finally having a good race under my belt this season
I also haven't had the start to the season i've wanted. My races in Thunder Bay and at World Junior Trials in Valcartier didn't go as well as I'd hoped, and I didn't have the form I was looking for.
It was warm during the pre-ski, and extremely soft on the steep uphills, and almost a skating rink on the flats, downhills and more gradual climbs. The North Bay red loop starts with over a kilometre of gradual climbing, and this was the first year I felt that I could one skate the entire thing without blowing my arms out and having nothing for the next laps. I finally felt that this was a course I could do some damage on.
It was warm and overcast the morning of the race. I'd talked to Dean the night before, and we agreed that a more relaxed start was the way to go. So my first lap, instead of full out attacking the course, i started slowly and controlled, focusing on my technique and staying calm and relaxed. I tried to go to the side of the trail at one point, where it looked firmer, but my ski sunk into the snow and i tripped, which was annoying. The slow start combined with the fall did mean i was 30 seconds down after one lap, which drove Dean a little nuts when I passed him at the top of the course where he was doing splits, so he went a little frantic when I passed him, so I upped the pace a bit and recorded the 6th fastest lap time. The downhill was really good, I flew through the corners, and even got a bit of air time at one point. I had a bit more urgency the next time around, but the course had gotten much softer, so I was over 45 seconds slower, despite putting in a lot more effort. Nonetheless, I got the 2nd fastest lap time, and started clawing my way back, moving ahead of Konie, my teammate, and a few others, then moving up to 3rd. I had a good final lap, but I didn't think I'd done enough to land on the podium, and thought that a top six would be the best I could come up with. However, I crossed the line, and was informed by Peggy Winter that I was in first.
It was nerve wracking watching live results coming in, watching skiers I know to be quick cross the line. I eventually fell to third, but in my first ever OU race, as the the only first year on the podium, and finally having a good race under my belt this season
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