Facing the fall line

Learning to ski has been an exhilirating and frustrating exercise in patience and discipline.  I want to be a great skier NOW! but to get there I have to force myself to always push beyond my comfort zone and work hard on on my technique despite my default sloppy cheating ways down stuff that seems too hard.  Each new season (this being my fourth I think) brings a combination of excitement, because it's fun to ski, and anxiety, because I know I will repeatedly force myself into uncomfortable situations where I am a little fearful (though realistically even if I fall it will just be a tiring effort to get my skis back on and get back upright).  I often wonder why I force myself to do this -- but then I find myself finally putting it all together and making turns down something fairly steep but feeling in control, doing it more or less correctly and realizing that I am actually "skiing" (if slowly and imperfectly), not traversing or side-slipping, down "expert" terrain.*  There is something deeply satisfying about making forward progress in an area that is viscerally the oil to my water -- and somehow having fun along the way. 


But then I go out the next day and suck again.  It's progress nonetheless if incredibly frustrating.

*There may also be new skis involved that are quite easy to ski

A case for speedwork

Sure, speedwork makes you faster (if you don't hurt yourself by overdoing it) and is good for your metabolism ("they" say). What other reason can there be for going to the track or making yourself almost pass out on the treadmill?  Well, it just feels good.  No really, it does.  It feels good.  Moving my legs as fast as they can go (which isn't very fast I should add) and getting my heart beating faster than its normal lazy 50-60% of max is exhilirating.  Once I stopped focusing on the time on my watch and instead started focusing exclusively on the effort, I started noticing how I feel when I try to run fast.  This morning while doing 800 meter repeats at the high school track, and listening to Thom Yorke's "Hearing Damage" (yeah, I bought the Twilite soundtrack, bite me), I could feel my legs, pulsing blood (that's what it does, right?), heart, lungs and brain all move in an incredibly harmoniously orchestrated way.  I don't really notice this when running far slowly.  I enjoy my long slogs because they allow me to space out and are fairly relaxing.  Like a nap on my feet.  Running fast is like screaming only less offensive to the people around you.  Even if you're not mad or upset about anything, sometimes you just need a good scream.  It's cathartic.  It expeditiously washes all negativity from the body.  If you still feel the sting of something after a track workout go do some more 400s as fast as you can...