Mark Gocke Photography |
In the last two years I picked up a new sport/obsession
called Ski Mountaineer Racing (Skimo racing).
It’s another one of those silly sports that consumes time, money and
healthy lung tissue like and ash eating dragon.
The sport involves waking up at 5 o’clock in the morning, donning two
pairs of underwear, silk weight base layers and a spandex suit. You then desperately
drink coffee in an effort to have a bowl movement before the race starts.
At the starting line racers nervously look side to side at
other folks in spandex suits and alpine ski touring set ups astonishingly light.
Due to spandex nothing is left to the imagination. Calves and thighs bulge. In
my case, spandex flaps in the wind over my tiny legs.
The gun fires and for the next few hours racers climb the
side of snow covered peaks with skis on his or her feet. To grip the frozen
slopes mohair skins are adhered to the bottom of racer’s skis. At the top of
climbs racers rip skins off skis and descent the most technical terrain on the
mountain. The skis are so small and light a 5 year old’s skis would dwarf them. Some of the climbs are broken up with boot
packs where races strap his or her skis to a back pack and walk up a snow stair
case. No matter the level of fitness racer’s lungs are plagued by blood wheezes
and your mind questions your sanity. Why this small group of races do this I
still ponder. It’s one of the most difficult personal struggles I embark on and
I think this is what makes it so addictive.
Mark Gocke Photography |
This past weekend was Race the Divide, part of the COSMIC
series, hosted by Monarch Mountain Ski Resort. The race included 4800ft of
climbing and 4 ski descents of Mirkwood Bowl. The wind was a cold and icy
spandex piercing beast. The race was fun
but I was hindered a bladder that had a mind of its own.
About 5 minutes before the race I knew I was in trouble when
my bladder instantly filled like it does when I sit in the 7 Eleven park in lot
and drink big gulps. Urination was not
an option. If I peed I would miss the start of the race. I decided to brave it.
For the first climb the excitement of the race kept my mind off my brimming
bladder. Hydrating and taking in nutrients throughout the race is key. But a
full bladder makes you want to do anything but chug water. Fortunately, it was
so cold that when I dared sip my water my water bottle was completely frozen. A
sense of relief over took my body.
By the second lap my bladder felt more pressurized then an
air compressor and it was impeding taking fast steps forward. I kept thinking “John, just stop and pee.”
But I stubbornly inched forward slowing down from my already pathetic “race
pace.” The forth climb led to desperation due to altered homeostasis. I was at the breaking point of this cruel form
of self imposed torture. I would of confessed anything to make the torture stop.
It was time to weigh the options.
- Just let it go man
- Hold it for another half and hour and require bladder reconstruction.
- Do what a normal person would do, pee.
Even though I struggle through every Skimo Race I am still
competitive and stopping to pee was the ultimate sign of defeat. I watched the
red spandex clad racer in front of me fade away up the skin track. I had been
working so hard to catch him. I stepped out of the track into the soft snow. I
struggled to unbuckle my light weight microscopic backpack waist belt. Then I
realized my spandex suit zipper stops at mid abdomen, far to short for a
convenient whiz. Big time design flaw. My next obstacle was digging through
three layers of underwear and base layers to find my peeing apparatus. At one
point I pulled a plastic bag out of my crotch. I though “what the #$@1 is this
doing here?” Oh yea, at 5am when I got up and heard the Salida wind shaking the
house I thought I could use all the protection down there possible. Remember in Austin Powers when he takes a 60
second whiz? Evacuation com shhhhhh….evacuation
compl ….shhhhhhh….evacuation complete. You get the point.
Several minutes latter with everything zipped up and put
away I was back skinning up hill. My legs were able to swing forward again
freely without the dull pain of a full bladder. Endurance sports are new to me.
Most of my time is spent hiking at the pace of a sloth to the base of a
climbing crag. I’ve never been fast at anything. Growing up running from home plate
to first base required a delay of game. No coach would ever give me the pull of
the ear and swipe of the forehead signal to steal a base. I’ve never been fast.
It’s a new challenge for me and not going to come natural. But I’m not going to
give up.
I can’t imagine the top Skimo racers stop in the middle of a
2 hours race to urinate. It seems I have a lot to learn about hydration and
electrolyte intake for endurance events. Any suggestions or shared wisdom for
us endurance neophytes on prerace hydration would be much appreciated!