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After a hectic, long travel day I (and all my belongings!) made it to Bozeman.

You know… super simple.  Because getting anywhere from Lake Placid is… painless?

Just a 2+ hour drive to Albany, a 30 minute prop plane flight to Boston… One heck of a time in Boston.  (you have to change terminals? by leaving security?  can you say poor planning???) 4 hour flight to Denver, which I slept through like a champ.  Followed by one last hour long flight into Bozeman. Phew.  Felt good to lug my belongings into Karina’s house and exhale.  Where only after writing a quick note to Karina’s room mate and leaving a pillow and blanket for Laura on the couch,  I crawled up the stairs and passed the heck out.

After a lovely  morning… the kind that makes me wonder why I ever left Bozeman… including a ski up at Bohart and coffee on the deck of the Co-op we filled our guts with gigantic burritos and made the final trek from Bozeman to West Yellowstone.

And guess what??? West Yellowstone has all the snow.  So much that the snow banks are taller than me.  So much that there is a dangerous amount of snow threatening to fall on our heads as we make  a dash for it out of our condo..  So much…. Ok enough jibber jabber.  Enjoy these poorly documented pictures.  More to come…with an actual camera!

Yesterday was a little bittersweet.  I’m headed to Montana on Monday for Nationals… and although I’m super excited to go end the season out west I’m bummed that yesterday was probably my last day skiing with “my kids” for the winter.  That’s right parents… I’ve emotionally adopted your children.  Congratulations Lake Placid.  I’m pretty sure that’s the final step to being attached to a community.

I want to take this opportunity to thank NYSEF and Dewy Mtn for letting me be a super volunteer coach and  run around in the woods with your kids for the past couple of months.  It has been a very challenging season for me but you guys made Lake Placid home.  The outpouring of positive support I have received over the past couple of months has been absolutely incredible.  I feel like I am truly a part of your community and for that, I can not thank you enough.

All that being said… way to rock Dewy Mtn Day!

(Van coming into shoot)

(Congratulating Liam on an awesome first race ever!  Lollipops for everyone!)

Getting ready for awards and bib draw and hyenas… (I mean kids!) gather

(Leading out on the snow shoe portion for team Peregrine Falcon Speedies in the BoxShort Triathlon Relay)

(The youngest Franz boy contemplating getting in on the racing action… that or smiling for a lollipop)

(Team Peregrine Falcon Speedies were victorious! Our anchor Tate really sealed the deal.)

So I might not be at World Champs… or NCAAs… but I think Dewy Mtn was the place for me to be on Saturday.  After all… we are the Golden Boxers Champions of 2012!

… Oh Spring?  Oh winter?  Spring?  Oh for pete’s sake ya big tease!!!

I have no idea what season it is anymore.  It changes so fast I can’t keep up!  Welcome to March I guess…  Even after almost a full day of rain and temperatures soaring well into the 50’s we managed to get snow last night.  So what’s a girl to do with a little fresh snow?  Adventure time!

That’s right. Rocked the fish scales down the road this morning and into Marcy Dam.  The sun was shining.  The forest critters were milling in Snow White Disney-esque fashion. At one point after catching myself from nearly disastrous face plants I laughed and said, “Oh jeeze watch out there is some snow in our rocks!”

But I made it.  Reveling in some much needed Vitamin D and quite time on the trail… I really can’t complain.

Now here is some pretty horrendous cell-phone journalism!

I’ve been periodically going in and skiing with the students of Lake Placid Elementary School. (Yeah they get to ski in gym class how cool is that!?) It’s been fantastic.  I think I relate to 8 year old really well… mostly because we share a very similar level of passion for skiing.  You know.  Uphills are hard… but pretty awesome.  Downhills can be scary…. but also pretty awesome. In general, skiing is… pretty awesome!

The kids seem to really enjoy themselves.  I think I’ve only had one kid lay on the ground and yell, “I’m dieing!!!” (yes 8 year olds and I share that too… we can be a little dramatic)

I’ve had four different classes, and once we are all back in the gym. Skis, boots, and poles aside we get to dive into a little Q&A time.  With elementary school students it really is a dive.  You can’t be sure what you are going to get.  And I do my best to field there questions in relatable, appropriate ways.  Today brought a gem of a question.  “What is your favorite moment on skis?”  I did my best to share a good memory of mine, something about what a great day I had racing in Ridnaun last season… But on my run this afternoon I just kept thinking about it.  What is my favorite moment on skis???

I honestly don’t know if I can pinpoint ONE favorite moment.  One memory…  But instead I’d like to share some of my favorites with you.

Most of the moments that come flitting back to me are ones where I did “taboo” things on my skis.  I think in part because I skipped that whole “grow up playing on your skis” phase of life.   Those moments of frolic and adventure really grab my attention right off the bat.  Sharks and minnows with NYSEF and the Dewy Mtn crew.  Running across the road on my fish scales and laughing so hard at myself because I thought I was SUCH a rebel.  Being coaxed up the Whiteface toll road to the allure of boxed wine and swedish fish with good company.  Trying to ski the single track… in the dark.

I have great memories from my first years as a skier.  (some more type 3 funny than others)

That day when there was so much snow at practice we couldn’t see our boots or our skis.  So much snow that we found ourseleves penquin sliding down the hills on our stomachs.  So much snow if felt like we were floating.

I look back fondly all the times Molly’s dad took us skiing at ABR.  How he tried to get us to classic ski up this (nonexistent) incline… and how I couldn’t do it.  … how I cried about it.  I picture myself stomping my feet and cursing that “stupid hill” and that “stupid drill”.  I picture myself on the verge of a total break down. and I laugh.

There was that freestyle race I had to classic ski because I had just had knee surgery… and how I almost won.

The weekend I realized a good race didn’t depend on where I finished on the results sheet.

Or how about those rollerskis when its starts raining.  You stop and sort of look up at the sky… as if to say, “Really?!?! Rain?? Come on!!!” only for it to start raining even harder.

The days with perfect corduroy or bullet-proof tracks under blue bird skies.  When you have unbeatable kick and mind blowing glide.  The days when it’s puking snow and you can’t tell which way is up.

This winter when VanHo finally got enough snow to make the trails almost level and you get to bomb down from High Notch with a bunch of 10 year olds in tow.  Everyone so excited to be flying through the woods.

Taking a break from racing in Europe to classic ski up some pass in Germany.  Only stopping to enjoy cold cokes and hot sausages in the sunshine.  Exhaling altogether, as if we finally have all managed to catch our breath again.

Breaking trail up Bozeman Creek as we looked for things to huck ourselves off of.  Carrying donuts in our packs.

Trading high fives with Lollipop racers who don’t care that it’s bitter cold and skiing makes them sweat.

 

I could go on and on.  But I’ll spare you from my own nostalgia.  I know skiing hasn’t even been part of my life for that long.  I guess that just means… I have a lot to look forward to.  As I have many favorite moments yet to come.

 

 

 

 

 

As a full time athlete it often feels like you have copious amounts of time on your hands.  (and somehow… no free time at all?)

You have to fill this void.  You have to find creative ways to do nothing.  So that ONE, your brain won’t turn to mush… and TWO, you’ll also actually get those precious hours of rest in that are so important when sports are your job.

Who knew doing nothing could be so difficult? tedious? and often times unenjoyable?  For me it really did use to be all of those things.  But with some serious practice (yeah ok I have to take all aspects of this full time athlete thing seriously) I’ve gotten alot better at just that… doing nothing.

When we are not getting ready to go training, traveling to training, training, traveling home from training, showering (yeah even we sweat), eating, afternoon pre training snacking, getting ready for more training, training, showering some more, and of course eating even more… we still find ourselves with hours to fill.  And you see it’s especially important to master this skill in the spring and summer… because come winter and racing there is less training (and associated nonsense) to take up your time!  And when a rest week or tapering time comes around and you have not properly prepared… Hello mental breakdown or a rather mean case of little restless leg syndrome!

So for all of you out there here is a little (somewhat aggressive and mostly complete) list of how to do nothing like a professional amateur by yours truly, Corrine Malcolm.

Napping.  Master this tool and you are 60% better at doing nothing.  Eat some food, drink some tea, find a dark corner, snuggle up in a warm blanket and pass the heck out.  As athletes we know that resting is when our bodies gets stronger, right? Of course right. Moving on.

Embrace your artsy-self.  As a person who is not ashamed to rock full body spandex you must not be afraid to well… put it all out there.   Man this should really have it’s own section…

Paint or draw.  I do not care if you are the world’s best doodler or the master of stick figure art, break out that sketch pad or note book and get after it.  (Yes this is also where I start to shamelessly plug team mates and friends) One of my team mates Hannah is quite the painter and when she is on the road traveling for training and racing she makes some pretty incredible art work.  Check it out here!

Strum, Bang, Clang, Toot.  How many times have to talked about learning the guitar or the piano? (ok I know traveling with a piano is unrealistic) Well you know that time between nap time and snack time (man I sound like a kindergardener!) pick up that guitar and strum… strum quietly as to not wake your room/house-mates.  Use that solid 30 minutes of time before you get a hankering for some cereal to learn a handful of chords.  Let’s face it…your attention span isn’t much longer than that anyway.

Write. This is my go to.  I have notebooks of notes.  Of half written monologues, poems, and short stories.  Articles, imaginary and real. Pep talks. Conversations I will never have with people… atleast not real people.  Write because those thoughts that are screaming around inside your mind need to go somewhere, and paper won’t talk back.

Learn. Take a class. Read something really nerdy that you secretly can’t get enough of.  I have this odd fascination with nutrition.  With health sciences.  I was recently asked by a friend for a list of books on nutrition that were… “readable” Readable?  Right not everyone can read medical journals and stay awake. Silly me. Secret super nerd.   

Get Crafty.  Create.  Build. (rebuild) …what have you. Get your hands dirty.

Plant. Sew. Knit. Build. Spackle. Grout?   Grow something, basil, mint, whatever…. something that you probably won’t kill.  Get a pet Cactus (name it Jelly Donut). Sew something you wildly domestic freak. Knit a hat…. Or in my case attempt over and over and over again.  I have recently made a series of really horribly awkwardly shaped/sized purple hats…  Try, try again.  Help a team mate or friend with those house renovations that they can’t afford to pay outside help to do… because lets face it… you’ll work for food.

Cook some really time intensive things.  Sour dough bread? Apple sauce?  Baked goods that you will shamelessly give away because although you really like to make cookies and pie you really do not want eat a whole batch or an entire pie. (Someone has to ski up hill after all)

Dream.  I spend a lot of time day dreaming.  I’ve sketched the future garden I want to have some day probably a dozen times. I’ve dreamed about the houses, huts, cabins, yurts, and humble abodes I could see myself living in at some point or another.  Is it weird that I’ve already named farm animals that I may or may not want to have at some point down the road?  (on the ‘list’ might be two goats named Cornelius and Fergie… I will forgetfully refer to them as my ‘kids’)  Dream about whatever meal it is you really want to have when you finish that 3 hour rollerski… and then fight your odd craving for Sprite, Sprite? Why?

Lastly and most importantly… I highly encourage and suggest lying about how much time you might spend fumbling around the confines of the inter-web…

Shit happens… even if you really don’t want it to.

Only days after the mishap during the World Championships Mixed Relay I got to experience my own target mishap.  Thank goodness mine was in a NorAm.  If having a season of domestic racing is to have a silver lining it might be that… messing up happens, best to get it out of the way now.

Trust me.  I mess up this whole biathlon thing frequently.  But today.  Today was not my fault.  I promise this is not a verbal tantrum.  After spending most the race fighting the urge to throw my arm in the air and yell, “Really!?!? I do not understand!”  all I can do is laugh and shake my head.  Maybe shrug my shoulders.

Alot of things were out of our control today.  The weather has no idea what it wants.  Sunny. Sleeting. Pouring rain.  50mph wind gusts…. If you want to know what shooting in a hurricane feels like you should have come out to VanHo this morning.  I came into shoot standing and the mat was upside down… I didn’t even notice until I was sliding across it precariously close to the firing line.  Apparently the wind had tried to blow several mats away while we were out on course… oops!  (didn’t stop me from hitting 4 of 5!)

The biggest flop of the day was my prone shooting.  Skiing in behind a pack of youth men in their uniformly awkward baggy spandex suits I jumped into a clean point. Lucky number 9 (note that whatever number I end up with for a race, shooting, bib number, what have you… makes it either my favorite/lucky number even if it is only for the 30seconds that I’m on the shooting mat)

Range procedure. Boom. Good work Corrine. Check. Good shot. hit target! YOOOHOO! open bolt. close bolt… What!?!?  Oh right… yeah someone pushed the wrong button.  All of a sudden I found myself looking at a closed target.  All the paddles were up.  I opened my bolt and called for a range official… ok not that calm… I yelled, “HEY!!!! Someone fix my target!”  (I was in the heat of the moment ok?)

They cleared the target.  The next three targets go down seamlessly.  I then forgot I had ejected a round and had to hand load my last shot. Hit!  5 for 5 and feeling good.  Knowing you don’t have to ski that stinking penalty loop is the best feeling in the world.  I always think to myself, “Hah! Hah! Sucker!” as a ski by it.

Today it wasn’t clear… do I ski the penalty loop?  I did in fact shoot five bullets. and hit five targets.  I had to make a choice… I didn’t ski the penalty loop.  At the moment it felt right.  In retrospect it might not have been the best option… but sometimes the best option is not the one you want to go with right away.

I spent the rest of the race wondering if I would get a two minute penalty for that skipped loop.  I felt like a resentful child.  I was NOT going to be punished for something I didn’t do. Hah! As if!

I still don’t know if I got that two minute penalty or not.  And honestly… oh well? Lucky for me it is just a NorAm.  It is just a biathlon race.  And guess what else?  Despite that target hiccup… It was my best day of shooting in a race ever!  …90%  Go me!

 

I made a quick swing through Vermont on my way back from Pennsylvania to jump into a race at National Guard Biathlon Championships in Jericho this morning.  Although physically I didn’t feel that bad two plane rides and a weekend full of emotionally ridiculous family time later… mentally I was off my game.  Vacant?  perhaps.   Tired? oh yes.  more like plum tuckered the heck out!

But what is one to do when there is racing to be had?

So I put my big girl pants on and donned a race bib. Lucky number 10.  Since I missed the sprint on Sunday morning I got to start at the back of the women’s pursuit.  More fun for me. Lots of skiers to chase!  The field was big (especially the men’s field) but since a lot of the military men and women don’t actually get to experience much biathlon or probably see snow that often (yes you, national guard Missouri) the field was one of quantity and maybe not so much quality.  (but what they lacked in ski ability they made up for in enthusiasm)

I went through the normal race day mode.

Morning jog. Breakfast. Dry fire. Test skis. Pick up bib. Equipment control rifle check.  Zero. Load race clips. Warm up. Equipment control ski check.  Change into dry hat and gloves. Race.

I went through the motions almost robotically.  I got my headband on right side up (again)! Everything seemed fine.  Until I came into shoot my first prone stage… and for some reason I remembered… I had only loaded 3 clips!  Three clips!?!?  Really!?!?  I remembered loading them and thinking, “two clips and a spare just in case…”  I had totally been on race weekend autopilot.  Sprint race mode.

More embarassing? … One of the men waiting in the start pen with me had casually asked a team mate, “You remembered 4 clips today?”  I remember thinking to myself, “Four clips!? don’t you think that’s a bit excessive?”  Boy was I wrong.

I managed to yell to Patrick as I left the range that I was short a clip.  …I suppose there is a first time for everything?  Oops!

As I left the range after my second prone stage a range official handed me a loaded clip and I managed to huck my empty one off to the side of the trail as I skied back onto course.  Felt pretty foolish.  But it was good practice for me and the range crew…

Here’s to hoping I never do that ever again!

This winter has definitely changed my perception of what is and is not skiable.  Basically… anything goes.  As long as it is not entirely grass you’re probably okay.  (Well… unless there is a super heavy frost, then go for it! ski on that grass. Do it!  because you are ridiculously desperate and it will be a blast)

The last couple days have felt decisively spring-esque.  I did a combo workout at VanHo on patchy un-groomed, crusty trails.  I had to dodge patches of leaves, grass, dirt, and rocks. It was Sunny and beautiful and it made it feel like April skiing.  When you love snow too much to let it go.  And then I remembered it is February. February!?

It’s not pretty.  To be honest, it’s not even verging on fair… but it’s all we’ve got.

Another 1/4 inch of snow fell last night instead of rain (thank goodness?) …now instead of seeing the rocks you have no idea they’re coming.  Nothing like a lovely little game of chance during your morning workout.  That’s why you have rock-skis in the first place… right?

 

I’m heading to Pennsylvania to be with my family for the weekend… Where my Dad was “really looking forward to going for a run in shorts”… wait what?

 

(Photo by: Noel Charchuk)

Well after my body realized how much fun suffering is last Saturday and Sunday I got to hang around Canmore for 5 days to train and cheer on my team mates in the last two races Wednesday and Thursday.  After another interval workout in the sunshine I found myself a little bummed I wouldn’t get to race.  I finally felt like I was skiing again!  (As opposed to my limbs wiping about seemingly without any control)

I decided to make the most of not racing.  I woke up early running up to the venue in the dark in time to get on my skis before the boys started their race warm up.  On thursday I even donned a “Team Service” bib so I could skate on course as the boys got ready.  It was fun to rip around their race course, the mystery in the oversized bib.  “Did you see that?  That is the smallest wax tech I have ever seen?”  um… “They told me to ski the 5’s until they felt fast???”  Yeah right.

A muffin and a change of dry clothing later I was back on course.  Coach Corrine, reporting for duty.

Course official: “So you’re a coach?”

Me:  “Um… yes?”

I poached a spot on the big sunny hill.  Sunburn?  Hello ridiculous tanlines, it’s been so long.  I spent the morning and afternoon chasing men and women up and down the hill.  Yelling splits.  Gesturing wildly.  I know that often times athletes are so zonked that they have no idea what words are suppose to be forming from you and reaching their ears.  But they know it’s noise, it’s loud, it’s excited.  GO GO GO! It was a hard hill.  And I was darned if they were going to slog up it in front of me. No way. no how.  They would move fast up this sucker even if it was only because that was the only way they could get away from me.  Hey… motivation comes in many forms.

It was really cool to watch these athletes put it all out there.  In a way it was my own mini technique tutorial.  Some skiers better than others…  The mental notes hit max capacity fast!

What else did I learn?

Coaching is really tiring! When I finally got back to our condo after the races on wednesday I was plum tuckered out!  I hadn’t even raced!?  Man respect those guys and gals.

I also learned how to optimize the ‘art of doing nothing’.  But more on that later…