Today was another baby step forward from yesterday.  Yes one itty bitty baby of a step.  But I nailed it!

There are moments when you want to hop, skip, leap…. or run at an all out mad dash ahead.  But it doesn’t work that way. There are times when you get so frustrated and angry you could throw a sandwich… But that’s no fun.  So here I am.  Totally stoked on my baby step.  Completely ok with this patience thing I’m trying out… atleast for now.

Back to today.

So many things went right!  I…
-Stayed relaxed
-Effortlessly picked a pair of race skis (ok actually I handed two pairs to the techs and said see you in the start pen!)
-Got in a good warm up and a relatively painless zero
-Put my head band on RIGHT SIDE UP (though I did have a team mate double check for me)
-Hit a few more targets
-Felt slightly more lively on my skis
-Smiled (albeit being covered in snot and slobber) the entire time

AND my team mates crushed it. Lanny tied for 4th, Laura was 10th, and Tracey finished 12th!

(photo from Hannah D)

I survived.  That was a big goal of mine coming off of being so sick for so long.  I needed to not give up, and I did just that.  I kept it together the entire race!  I didn’t have to fight the urge to scream, “Take me out coach!”  I was focused, heck I think there were even moments when I skied a little less like a dainty fairy child and more like my (totally imaginary) super hero alter ego (wonder girl).

We know I’m a long ways from being 100%… but for the time being I’m ok with coming back one step at a time.

Corrine

 

Do you feel cheated?  No?  …Well you totally should!

The pictures I posted earlier were actually… from last November!  Oh the deception!  I didn’t have my photos uploaded yet.  But the guilt is gnashing at my poor little heart strings… So I’m hoping this little collection of [current] photos can act as a proper apology.

Someone is excited to be wearing an athlete bib!

And now a few pictures from my little adventure this afternoon… after numbing my mind and warming my limbs with a gianormous mug of coffee (chocolate soup) I ventured out onto the absolutely expansive trail system in Canmore for a little play time jog.  But first a few from the venue (clearly skiing sucks here… not)!

-Corrine

Today I didn’t crush it.  I did not destroy.  Slay. Or triumph victoriously.

Today I managed.  I clung.  I fought it out, and it wasn’t all that pretty.  (and I’m not talking about the slobber and snot that manifested all over my face)

Despite the fact that I openly acknowledged that I was here for the sake of experience and fun. I was undeniably nervous this morning.  I’ve raced a whopping FIVE times this season (a long ways away from the 20+ starts I should be racking up)… I haven’t raced in four weeks and finished up a mean round of antibiotics on monday.  I was feeling rusty.  And I thought I was totally prepared for that… my bad.

Anxious panic gnawed at my gut.  My eyes glazed over.  I desperately needed someone to make me laugh. To crack into the horrible no good very bad mood that was settling in.  I wasn’t sure if I wanted to puke, cry, or laugh… but I was well on my way to some serious multitasking of uncontrollable emotion.  “Quick someone give that poor girl a hug!”

It all started with ski testing.  I detest ski testing.  Honestly, I would be perfectly content if they just handed me skis on my way to the start pen.  Last year was my first season ever having more than one pair of race skis…  Sometimes the best option is not having any options.  (Yep, you are granted to hate me, here I am complaining about having too many pairs of skis, hah!) I just can’t tell the subtle differences yet between my skis.  They are either fast, slow, or the same.  Luckily I have a very patient waxing crew and coaching staff.  That can read the slight difference between my “meh” and “Mmmm” and shoulder shrug.

Next I botched my warm up.  Meaning all of a sudden I was heading to zero after handing my race skis off to Bjorn and Brandon only to find we were approaching 20minutes to start.  AHHHHHHHHH!  Panic ensued… despite my best efforts to stick my tongue out and just roll with it.

From there I rushed into the start pen to join the highly anticipated pre-race dance off.  Yep. I rock the intimidation factor hard.

I put my headband on upside down.  One minute before my start the IBU officials decided I needed an event sponsor sticker on both sides of my rifle (oh the convenience of being a lefty).  More frantic movements.  Suddenly I was at the starting wand reminding myself to settle the flippity frack down. Too late.

Shooting was more or less a disaster.  I missed about 5 too many targets…  Is it just me or was that penalty loop   really long?  Maybe that’s just what happens when you find yourself skiing your third… or fourth… or fifth one of the day?  My coaches assured me I was justing saving those targets for tomorrow, and boy I sure hope so!

Skiing was decent. Hovering around fair.  My lungs burned, and my legs ached in a way that seem entirely too foreign.  But apparently it looked alot better than it felt…  man I can’t wait for skiing to feel good again.  At one point when I was stubbornly V2ing up one of the many hills I found myself thinking, “Don’t fall off the treadmill… don’t fall off! don’t fall off!” (Taking self talk to a whole new level) I can’t wait until I feel like myself again.  When I can charge instead of settling for hanging on.  But I know that might be a while.  One race at a time.

At one point I even managed to choke on air. Yep… forgot how to breathe…

On the plus side there is always a next race, AND I did get to watch a French girl totally panic about a squirrel!

Oh and have I mentioned that Canmore might be my favorite nordic ski venue in North America?  Not a bad place to suffer, eh?

So today was the first day of official unofficial training at the IBU Cup venue here in Canmore.

For those of you who have no idea where that is… It is a little over an hour West of Calgary.  Right smack in the middle of the Canadian Rockies.  Can you say dream village?  (that is if you can afford this place, goodbye nonexistent funds!) Ok, enough of this geography crap, you all know how to operate Google Maps.

Onto a couple realizations…

When I leave here my face is going to be several shades darker than the rest of me. Hello Sunshine.

I was only semi embarrassing this morning.  I didn’t run into anyone… Ok there were a few close calls, I narrowly avoided a full on collision with some Norwegian man.  I did however manage to stay on my feet the entire time!  Well sort of…

Once I almost took myself out by strategically placing my poles between my legs leaving the range.  Later I got my ski caught on a rifle rack which was nearly my demise, somehow I escaped without a total wipe out.

Twice I broke out into dance on the range.  On a side note I was loading clips at the time.   Seriously, stop playing such dance inducing music!  How is everyone else immune to that infectious beat???

Way too many serious faces while I be-bopped around the trails.  One giant star-spangled grin of a girl.  Seemingly having way too much fun.  Hello amateur hour.

Is there something about the German suits that make you guys look so put together!?  Don’t get me started on the French… I can only imagine this is what I looked like.  With slightly less slobber… I hope?

Serious athletes. Corrine. More serious athletes. Corrine.  Professionals.  Corrine?

Ok so despite my totally rambunctious chaotic style of getting the job done I do feel like I know what I’m doing.

What’s that Corrine?  You feel like a real biathlete?  Um yeah, I double dog dare you to take me seriously.

This morning brought sunshine and another day of paintball biathlon to the Adirondack  region!  We headed out into the cold fueled on coffee and freshly baked banana bread.  What more could one ask for?

Dewy Mountain hosted us this morning, and despite the rain and limited snow fall this past week they did an incredible job getting the trails set up for us!  After organizing the largest assortment of itty bitty race bibs I’ve ever seen the families started to roll in one at a time. J5 after J5 came in with contagious grins plastered across their faces.  I’ve never seen so many 8 year olds pumped to ski.

The kids didn’t seem to care about the cold, or the icy trails.  They didn’t seem to mind the fact that skiing when your legs are that little must be really difficult, and sweaty, and uncomfortable… and probably incredibly awkward.  (Maybe it’s just me, but skating has taken me a long time to feel more natural and less slippery)

We were all smiles, and excitement, and enthusiasm.  At Dewy this morning flailing limbs were all the rage and gliding completely optional, and on top of that everyone had a blast. Race bibs were exchanged for high fives and lollipops.

Not a bad way to spend a Sunday morning.  Not a bad way at all.

So I have good news.  The kind of news that makes you do back flips on the inside.  …and break out into spontaneous jigs of joy on the outside.

I had afforded myself enough heartbreak and disappointment with my season after North American Championships.  Physically sick and emotionally exhausted I needed to change my outlook on the remainder of my season.

1. Get healthy.
2. Focus on training for next year.

People mentioned the IBU Cup races in Canmore in February… that they would consider naming more athletes.  All it made me want  to do was  irrationally (and childishly) cover my ears and yell, “LAH LAH LAH I can’t hear you!!!!”  I figured Canmore was a long shot. I had been sick for a month.  I wasn’t going to set myself up for that. Break my heart once shame on you. Break my heart twice shame on me.

Needless to say when I received an email from Max Cobb earlier this week announcing that I would get to start in IBU Cup 6 in Canmore (yep, next weekend) I sort of went into shock.  I had to reread the email not once, not twice, but three times to make sure I had in fact read it right.  Mind Blown.

These will be the most expensive race starts on my (very short) biathlon career.  Better race like they are worth every penny.  The following is a very rash list of my possible fundraising endeavors.

1. Give up my first born child (sorry future kid)

2. Give up an arm or a leg

3. Bake sale (how many cookies does it take to get to Canmore)

4. Sell a kidney.  I only need one anyway right?

5. Hitch hike to Canmore, starting… last week (oops)

6. Other hasty, rash, and unmentionable ideas.

I’ve never been so stoked to be this broke in my life!  Canmore bound on Wednesday!!!!  Send along all those good vibes!

Tonight I was granted the good fortune of watching the world tour of the Banff Film Festival here in Lake Placid.

6 films. Some serious… some not so serious.  (although I do think Ringo would make an excellent addition to C.A.R.C.A…) Emotional heart strings aside, all the films were packed full of awe worthy adventure and aspiration. Films that made you want to jump out of your cozy little theater seat and climb something with serious vertical for an absurdly long time.

Moments like those tear at my insides.  Moments where I break and declare, “I just want to be a normal 21 year old!!!”  Because in my mind normal 21 year olds go on treks through South America, and play in the mountains in France… this is apparently not the case.  I have only once openly declared the statement above…  That is my (vaguely absurd) desire to be normal.  And in that moment a good friend of mine reminded me, “But you aren’t normal…”  He said it in a way that was so matter of fact, the devastating reality of how good I have it sunk in and all I could do was shrug and feel foolish.

But a girl can dream… right?

Want to know a little secret?  Thats how I get through those 3 or 4 hour runs by myself.  I day dream.  I have plans. (boy do I have plans)  Heck I have plans to make plans.  Plans that are both conflicting and complimentary.

You are probably shaking your head.  “The girl who gets to travel the country… gets to travel the world!  With her skis!  Yearns for adventure!?!?”

And with mind numbing, bone aching curiosity I scream, oh yes!  I know how lucky I am to get to explore, frolic, and journey for a job… for a life style.  But I have a habit of dreaming big.

I know some of my adventures will stay in the vaults in my mind.  Some of the adventures I long for I will be lucky enough to experience first hand.  And some of the adventures I won’t even see coming will be the greatest adventures of all.

 

So you might be wondering what I’ve been up to since not making a team to go to Europe…  And well if not, you can probably stop reading this post right now.

Ever since leaving Jericho an epic battle has been raging on here in Lake Placid.  Corrine vs. Her Health.  Want to guess who’s winning?  If placed your bets against me you may now collect your imaginary winnings.  After completing a really great bout of amoxicillin and some good old fashion racing in the cold my body continued to call it quits.  The upper respiratory track infection I was confident I was squashing fought back with gusto!  And so… another round of antibiotics was ordered.

Yep. Antibiotics round 2!  We are bringing out the big guns this time.  Augmentin aka SUPER amoxicillin.

And for those of you who have been counting, you’re right, I will have spent most of the month of January pumping medication into my system.  Bring it on February!

While my health is a constant battle… in time I’ll win this one.  in time.

In the mean time I’ve turned my attention to training.  Its the best thing I can do.  I’ve decided I’ll just have to be  (spoiler alert) America’s best kept secret until next season… and then I’ll take Europe by storm.  Until then I get better.  Shooting, skiing, the works.  Back to basics, have to start from somewhere.

Jonne and I headed to the range this morning for some slow fire.  An activity generally reserved for the spring and early summer.  Its great to get this extra work in, and its incredible to see the improvements I’ve made since moving to Lake Placid in May.

That is my grouping from this morning! I can’t remember exactly, but there is between 35-40 shots on that piece of paper!  Shooting prone without a sling.  For those of you not familiar with a biathlon rifle.  We have a sling attached to the bottom of our rifle that hooks into a cuff worn on our non-shooting arm.  It helps you form a very solid steady shooting base.  To shoot well without the sling you have to keep your nonshooting arm both stable and relaxed.  Can you say, Goodbye 10-ring?

Here’s the video from one of the clips.  Steady, smooth, BOOM!

Although I refuse to call the training center home… on a cold night, nothing beats a ‘home’ cooked meal.

Cranking the heat in the kitchen with some really (almost too) spicy chicken curry!

Amendment: Ok so it’s make your nose run hot… maybe keep the plain yogurt handy (ya pansy)

Crap I just touched my eye ball!  

Complete with pan roasted cashews and fresh cilantro!

One of the things that makes great athletes exceptional is their ability to forget the mistakes they’ve made.

Of course you learn everything you can, but then you move on.  You take away a lesson. Or a feeling.  Or an experience.  But the eyes are always (always always always) on the future.

We adapt.  We adjust. change. readjust again.  sometimes we even start over from scratch.  But the eyes are always (always always always) on the big picture.

We often don’t know how we’re going to get there.  You can’t plan obstacles. or setbacks.  but they happen.

Its a cycle.  build. rebuild. breath.  Keep it in perspective.

Sometimes though it’s hard.  Hard to see the big picture.  You’re trying to keep your head above water let alone “keep your eye on the prize.”   So it gets murky, sometimes.

But when the dust settles you’re still standing.  And the path no matter how ‘unbeaten’ is still there.

So my season isn’t what I hoped for.  Its not grand.  I’m not gallivanting around Europe waving an American flag.  But despite all the setbacks, all the unideal-ness and uncertainty this year has brought me I know I am a much better athlete right now than I was last year.  A better skier.  A better shooter. And in fact a better biathlete.

Maybe I’m not exactly where I want to be.  Probably not where you want me to be either…  Hang in there with me?

We will make it.