Women's Ski and Yoga Retreat

Another bluebird day on the trail (Photo by Sun Mountain Lodge)

We are excited to announce that we are hosting the 11th annual Women's Ski and Yoga Retreat at Sun Mountain Lodge! Join us March 1-3 for a fun-filled, relaxing time in the Methow's own winter wonderland. Whether you are brand new to the sport or are an experienced skier, there is something for everyone: our expert coaching team will help you become more proficient in both skate and classic skiing in a friendly, supportive environment. 

Each day we'll start with yoga practice, fuel for the day with a delicious breakfast, then have morning and afternoon ski sessions (with a break for more delicious food, of course) on portions of the 65 kilometers of beautifully groomed ski trails Sun Mountain has to offer. Top it off with a post-ski stretch, and relax with new friends.

During your free time, sit with a good book at the fire; take in the beautiful mountain views with a soothing soak in the hot tub; or get a reviving massage for your tired muscles. With ski and yoga instruction for every level, everyone can treat themselves to this wonderful weekend.

The retreat cost is $325 and includes: ski instruction, trail passes, yoga sessions, breakfasts and lunches, and Friday night wine and hors d'oeuvres. Rooms and other activities are additional. Sun Mountain Lodge offers a special room rate for retreat participants of $110 + tax per night, single or double occupancy. Additional persons are $10 per person, per night (four person maximum per room). Call Sun Mountain Lodge directly to make room reservations at: 800-572-0493.

Home for the weekend. Photo by Sun Mountain Lodge

To register: email or mail this form with your check or credit card number to:

Methow Endurance, PO Box 196, 

Winthrop, WA, 98862        

alison.naney (at) gmail.com

Registration deadline is Friday, February 1, 2013. Please note, no refunds will be given after this date.

Check our Facebook page for carpooling options and other updates. Let it snow!

Fall Mountain Festival

Don't miss next Saturday's Fall Mountain Festival at our very own Goat's Beard! Mark Allen will have a slideshow of his recent expedition on the Lacuna Glacier in Alaska. It will be sure to get you excited for the upcoming season. Food, music, mountains...what more could you ask for? See you there!

Fall Running and Training Clinic

In order to accommodate more people for our upcoming clinic in October, we changed the fall camp a bit. Rather than having a multi day format, we are now offering a one day running and training clinic on Saturday, October 13, and doing a hill climb on Sunday, October 14th.

Saturday will be a fun and information packed day complete with technique work, strength, intensity workouts and a big lunch to keep us fueled. It will be a mix of both talking through concepts and how to incorporate them into your schedule; and doing a shortened version of the workouts so you really learn how to perform them correctly and effectively.

Here are some of the aspects we'll plan to hit on Saturday's clinic:

• Nutrition for athletes and an active lifestyle
• Strength training that fits your schedule
• Running technique
• Key workouts for your regimen

We think this one-day format will provide a great, concentrated opportunity to pick up a lot of knowledge and skills which you can transfer into your fitness regime. What better way to spend a beautiful fall day in the Methow?

Got friends? Get a $5 discount for every friend you bring along! Email samuel.naney@gmail.com for more info.

Registration is available under the "Events" link on this website. Direct link is here.

Driveway Butte Hillclimb

School started today, meaning it's the magnificent season of fall. Each October we do a low key, no frills time trial up one of our favorite local trails. This year we decided to try to get more participants, and thought it would be a great way to raise money for our friends Jim and Jan Erickson. Jim was in a bike accident in May, leaving he and Jan unforeseen medical bills. The least we can do is burn our legs and lungs to help them out.

The view from the top. This year's climb is a couple weeks sooner, so there won't likely be snow.

Since it's also ski training season, we're offering a discount for Methow Valley Nordic members, as well as all participants under 18.  Run, ski walk, bound, hike, crawl, the two plus miles up to a lovely vista, catch your breath and cheer others on, then mosey back down to your car where some yummy food awaits. We love friendly competition, so we'll have prizes for the top three men and women, as well as the top male and female under 18.

The happy runners!

October 14, 2012            

8am    Klipchuck Campground

Mazama, WA

Entry:

Ages 18 and under: $10

Ages 18 plus: $15 

MV Nordic members: $12

To keep entries cheap, we are going old school: register here. 

 

A big thank you to our sponsors for this event:

                    

Cutthroat Classic (Sam's version)

Never the prettiest runner, here I am just cresting the top of the climb

This past weekend was the Cutthroat Classic, a trail race crossing over the Pacific Crest in the North Cascades, about a half hour from Mazama and home. The race itself is 11+ miles in length, half-up and half-downhill. The field is always an interesting mix of skiers and runners, and usually ends up as a mad dash to the top by the skiers in an attempt to maintain a lead on the heavily-switchbacked, steep five mile descent to the finish (we have never professed to be good downhill runners). I've been doing this race since its inception in 2001, when I was a junior in high school. Those first few years were rough; I had exertional posterior compartment syndrome for a few years in my late teens and so every time I raced the Cutthroat, my lower legs would go numb along with my feet, and the downhill would be a blind thumping where I would turn my ankle at least a dozen times. Not the best introduction to trail races, especially at a time when I largely despised running, anyway.

This year's race, like so many other years, started on a nice cool morning at Rainy Pass, about 4800'. The start line is right off Highway 20 and there is a 1/2 mile lead-in to the trail on road that allows for some shake-up. Without fail, as happens every year, some runner from Seattle thinks they're gonna smoke the whole field (along with those damned skiers and their huge thighs) and takes off at a breakneck pace. And, like clockwork, about 1/2 mile onto the trail (which begins in a steady climb and remains so until the Pass), they drop off pace and get swallowed. I was sitting in fifth position, enjoying the pace and waiting for MOD teammate Brian Gregg to make a break which would surely shatter the field. As expected, the early-wonder leader dropped off and we passed by him, and shortly thereafter Brian made a surge. Another guy went with him and a third got stuck in the middle. I was positioned behind Marcell McArthur, a previous winner of the race and a really solid runner; he was waiting behind the guy who blew up a few minutes before. We watched as the break took off and Brian's lead increased; I finally yelled (politely) at the guy holding us up that he'd better either catch the break or pull over, which he did (pull over). Marcell and I then took off and fought to chew up the gap between us and the lead. It wasn't to be, and I then passed Marcell and chased after the guy hanging out in no-man's land. I caught him at the first creek crossing, where he was daintily tip-toeing over the rocks. I splashed by him in the deepest part of the creek and pulled into third, where I would remain for the rest of the race.

From then on it was a solo effort; Marcell got by that guy as well and stayed about 50 seconds off me through the finish. I knew I could stay ahead of him on the climb but was convinced that he would eat up the gap through the downhill, on which I'm a complete duffer. When I hit the pass, Alan Watson (sitting on top and yelling encouragement) told me I had about 45 seconds on Marcell. I let fly on the downhill; I've run the course so many times I know exactly how many switchbacks there are and what they look like. I wanted to maintain my gap until the bottom of the descent, where there still remained a 1.5 mile flat trail push to the finish. I thought that if I could hold him off until then, I could put in a surge to stay ahead. To my surprise my legs felt better than expected on the downhill and I held my lead on Marcell. I never saw a glimmer from Brian and the second-place runner; they were probably 3-4 minutes ahead by that point. I only sought to keep my little oasis of safety as I galumphed down the trail.

As I hit the flats I really opened it up and tried to remember all the running technique that Alison has taught me over the last few years. Hips forward, fast cadence, footstrike on the balls of the feet. I had a massive blister which I could already feel enlarging on my heel so I was just as happy to keep the load off that part of my foot. As I hit the last turn before the finish I knew I'd hold my position and charged the bridge over Cutthroat Creek that lay 100m before the line, enjoying the cheers of the crowd. My time was 1:18:21, over three minutes faster than last year.

The last five years I've used the Cutthroat as a mid-summer fitness marker, a way to gauge the progress of training and aerobic conditioning on the eve of fall and real specific preparation for the racing season. Since 2008 I've happily and consistently dropped my times in the race; I started in 2008 at a time of 1:25:31, over seven minutes slower than last Saturday. What this shows for me is a dramatic improvement in aerobic conditioning; we don't attempt to peak or taper at all for this race, but instead place it in the midst of regular training. What this meant for last week is that we had a hard muscular endurance/speed workout on Monday, an aerobic endurance track workout on Thursday, and the race on Saturday. Both Brian and I felt strong; Brian's tremendous aerobic system propelled him to the win and a new course record of 1:12:41 (or something); five-plus minutes ahead of my third place finish. Both of us, along with Scott, are quite excited at what this suggests about our prep for the season. And to think, we haven't even begun the specific phase of training yet!

Also, in her third race as a Naney, Alison notched an overall women's victory and personal best time of 1:29:51; clearly her speed and power training is also paying off. She's pretty psyched; her big goal race of the year is a 50-miler in San Francisco in December, and all signs point to a great finish there, as well.

Overall podium - Brian getting some new dinnerware

Thanks to Steve Mitchell (www.mitchellimage.com) for the great photos.

Hart's Pass to Rainy Pass

I feel incredibly lucky to live in a place where I can drive 30ish minutes up to the highest point on a road in the state. Last weekend I ran from Hart's pass to Rainy pass on the PCT with my friend Stacey, her friend Ryne and his girlfriend Kristen. After a bit of a rough start with a flat tire on the way up (caution: watch for rebar sticking up from the road), we started off on our mountain adventure on a clear, warm morning. Stacey's husband, Dave, started with us and did an out and back before generously driving back down to Mazama and then up the highway to meet us at Rainy pass.

The last time I did this as a night run, starting at midnight on a full moon. It was incredible, but I was excited to see everything during the daylight, especially through the overgrown, brushy parts where I managed to roll my ankle no less than seven times. That section this time was really fun, and there were huge mountains to look at, too! We were graced with some cloud coverage through the heat of the day, which was a welcome break. This truly is a must-do run. Even with tons of hiking, it's possible to do in a day, and the grade is perfect, making even the climbs quite enjoyable.

We're off!

Kristen, going down, down, down.

Oddly, this section was not visible in the middle of the night.

Me, Stacey, and my weird, contorted shoulder, almost done with the final climb

After many miles of climbing, we make it to Methow Pass. Almost all ridge running from here.

Matching Canadians, rockin' the last stretch of flat

Looking west-ish. Mountains are ok.

And finally, the descent to Rainy Pass.

It was a good day.

Angel's Staircase

Photo by Mike Maltais, Methow Valley News

Writing a race report for a good race is much more fun than one that didn't go as planned, but here goes. It still amazes me how much more there is to learn from a bad race than a good one. So in that spirit, on with the proverbial show...

A little over a week ago I took part in Rainshadow Running's stunning Angel's Staircase 35k race. I had a great race there last year for the 25k, so I was excited to run the course again, after the hill and speed work I'd been doing this year. James started us at Foggy Dew Campground, which meant we had the pleasure of starting and ending with a three mile forest service road. I was excited about bombing down the road at the end, but honestly, not too hep on starting out with a three mile grind before getting to the singletrack. As it turned out, I felt better on the first three miles than I did all day; what I thought would seem to take forever was gone quite quickly and I easily motored up to the trail.

It was HOT out. We started at 11am so the finishline crew (and party) would co-inside more than last year, but it meant being out in the hottest part of the day. My race last year at Cascade Crest was cut short due to how I responded to running all day in 90 plus temperatures. This year, however, I trained  in the heat for several weeks and since I'm usually downright cold, I don't mind the hotter temperatures. The previous week I did a longer run in the same area as the race and loved every warm minute of it.

Laboring up the dusty trail. Photo by Candice Burt

I decided to take the climb easy, and enjoyed myself for the first hour or so. I drank lots of water, and had a lot of electrolytes. My ears needed to pop on the climb; this was slightly disconcerning, as the same thing happened at Cascade Crest, for about 30 miles. I reminded myself that I just needed to get to the top and then I could fly back down to the finish. With the race being in such a remote location, it was imperative to not do anything stupid like sprain an ankle while not feeling up to snuff, and just get safely down the mountain.

Looking down at Merchant's basin, where we climbed up. Photo by Candice Burt

The views were amazing at the top and at around 8,000 ft, I was ready to descend. Since the course is an out and back, passing people on their way up was a little tricky, but soon I was back in the trees, felling terrible. My stomach was not happy, and by now it was well past my lunchtime. Gel was not really doing it, and by now I had no water for my body to be able to absorb the food anyway, so I tried to think about other things, like my ears that still wouldn't pop, or my feet that hurt, or my legs that had no snap. Ah yes, the downward spiral of a bad race. I managed to get to the aid station without anyone passing me, but while I sat to collect myself, a couple people went by. At this point I didn't care about anything other than being done with this stupid thing and going to take a nap. I left the station munching on some potato chips (yum!) feeling pretty sorry for myself. Running made me feel like I would lose my guts, so I opted to walk. It took the full three or so miles to get my mind back into the game, realizing that it was either going to take me a looooooong time to get back if I walked the whole way, or I could suck it up and get done with this thing. I started running again when I got to the forest service road, and was pleasantly surprised to feel ok. My stomach settled and though my ears still needed to pop, I knew I could blast back to the finish and get some real food (watermelon is the BEST running food in the universe). The 50k-ers were on their way down by this point, so it was fun to catch as many as I could.

The post-race feast was overflowing as usual, the course was well marked, and once again, James put on another top notch race. In the time after the race, I've been reading a fascinating book on overhydration by an accomplished and highly regarded South African exercise physiologist (yep, I'm that geeky). I realized that in training I don't pay as much attention to getting lots of water as I do when I race (since a race is important and all, so hydration is a top priority), thereby drinking too much: or at least that's my current theory. After nearly ten years of running these races I still learn something new each time.  So now I'm back to drinking when I'm thirsty and so far, so good. Next up is the Cutthroat Classic, another fine mountain run.