Nordic Confused...

An apt decription of the athletes who decideto juggle their time between the Nordic tracks and the jump hill. But what a season those US Noco boys are having, huh? Results from yesterday in Oberhof GER, Lodwick 2nd in an epic sprint finish after jumping himself into 5th following a 2 season hiatus from the WC scene. The rest of the US breakdown: Demong in 5th, 41 seconds back, and Johnny with a strong finsih in 7th, but sadly DQ'd for failing to ski with a transponder. Eric Camerota in 39th.

So, unofficially that's 3 Americans in the top 7. Taking a look at the Continental Cup results, the latest event at Whistler's Olympic Park landed 4 Americans in the top 10. Overall standings for the CC tour put Lodwick in 1st, Brett in 2nd, Fletcher in 5th, Alex Miller in 17th, and Willy G in 21st.

That's a pretty freakin' solid start to the season, especially considering the size of the American Nordic Combined talent pool, which currently hovers around 17 on a sunny, injury-free day. Also keep in mind that all of these skiers come from one of three clubs: LPSC, SSWSC or NSF. Statisticaly, that's just mind boggling. Given, combined enjoys a much smaller talent pool world-wide, but we're still talking about World Cup wins, and spot on that podium is coveted nonetheless.

Now take a look at the special XC side of things: our lone distance skier in the points with a season high of 16th in sunny Kuusamo. And our sprint guru Newell with a pre- Xmas top WC finish in 11th, twice in Kuusamo & Dusseldorf. Plus, team relay in 4th.

Don't get me wrong, these are solid results in the points, but why is it so tough to see American skiing get an athlete into that coveted top 10? Sure, global talent pool is huge, but then again, so is ours. Ski clubs all across the country are pumping out fit skiers faster than the Fed is slashing interest rates and pumping out the green and a competitive high school and Eastern Cup circuit are providing juniors the chance to ski against top domestic racers, former Olympians and World Championship vets. From there, skiers can pop into the ranks of a team on the college circuit, where talented junior skiers simply go to die. College skiing is really the graveyard of young national talent. Instead of being urged to pursue athletic careers with a degree in hand, a scant future of poorly funded domestic teams and a severly under-devloped national team program are all that await the recently enlightened.

United States Nordic Combined: "Long name, amazing results"

So, some food for thought as you grind out the k's and tick away at Lars Flora's tasty 12 days of Xmas workout. What's to blame for the endless drought of US cross country success on the world scene? All in, all out, who cares if the top season distance result is 16th anyway?

My suggestion, take a lesson from your combined buddies, throw a little Tool into the mp3 and just start dropping the hammer.

No excuses.

D

Pre Xmas ski of the Big One

Woods: "Badman, how are you wasting your life away tomorrow?"
Badman: "Skiing Marcy with Robbie".
Woods: "You know, I've never skied Marcy before Christmas."
Badman: "Would it be safe to assume that none of the Big Fellas have either? Would this be an ascent of epic proportions?"
Woods: "Probably."

4+ feet of the pow.

Merry Christmas indeed.






Happy Holidays from your friends at Crimson Nordic, Worldwide.

Snö

Today my weather forecast addiction was rewarded with the following delectable tidbit: the Green Mountain State is all pink and as all weather nerds know, pink means snow.

...WINTER STORM WARNING REMAINS IN EFFECT FROM 4 PM THIS AFTERNOON TO 4 PM EST FRIDAY... THE NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE IN BURLINGTON CONTINUES THE WINTER
STORM WARNING FOR HEAVY SNOW AND SLEET FOR ESSEX COUNTY NEW YORK...AS WELL AS CENTRAL...NORTH CENTRAL AND NORTHEASTERN VERMONT. THIS WARNING IS IN EFFECT FROM 4 PM THIS AFTERNOON TO 4 PM EST FRIDAY. 6 TO 12 INCHES OF SNOW WITH SOME SLEET ACCUMULATION ARE EXPECTED IN THE WARNING AREA BY FRIDAY AFTERNOON.

If Tom Messner's eye on the sky suffered one of its frequent bouts of blindness and it doesn't snow a foot in VT tonight I'll be sorely disappointed and, out of desperation, will be forced to make my teammates do their best to convince the snow gods to royally dump on us. I'm not too worried, though, because we have tips from the experts:



No worries when it does snow, though, because David and I do NOT drive like this:

But rather more like this:

Hoppas att det snöar snart!

-Schlutzer

Dave wrote a blog post about breakfast pizza

Right after Thanksgiving camp, Coach City announced to us his observation that despite some pretty long training days, we all appeared to look more rested and healthier by the end of camp. He attributed this to sleeping more than we usually do when at school and told us that we should begin to prioritize sleep and focus on being rested and healthy.

I, of course, took him quite literally and proceeded to attend a grand total of 7 hours of class last week. This week, I’m trying to sleep enough AND go to class, which means I’m sitting in “Molecules of Life” vaguely paying attention to stem cells, but paying much more attention to the abominable shape in which David left our blog. Breakfast pizza? Really? That’s not even one of the most interesting or bizarre things on the HUDS menu. For example, today’s list of offerings includes (but is not limited to) the following items:

- Italian Wedding Soup: is the color of mucus and has lumpy things in it that I think look a lot like eyeballs… was never and will never be served at a wedding in Italy or anywhere else.

- Mahi Mahi Honey Ginger Glaze: unclear what this actually is, though it’s listed under entrees. Mahi mahi might be fish, which would make this dish a fish-honey-ginger glaze. What would you glaze with that, I wonder?

- Portobello Lentil Pattie: not altogether disturbing, unless you consider the fact that it constitutes the third appearance of the word “pattie” on the day’s menu and also looks like lumps of poop.

- Candy Roaster Squash: evidence that HUDS lies, because (a) it does not taste like candy, not at all—it just tastes like squash, and (b) it’s still being touted as fresh, sustainable, local produce (but it was fourteen degrees in Boston yesterday, and I’m pretty sure that all things shrink into nonexistence when it gets that cold).

Note: Nabel, I just looked up and saw on the board “neuraminidase inhibitor R-125489 mimics structure of sialic acid like Tamiflu,” which means I’ll probably need your help on my homework.

- Spicy Black Beans: only unnerving because it was on the breakfast, lunch, and dinner menus, which means that our van to and from practice will smell like death. If Chris Nabel were here, he would guarantee such a stench by bringing spicy black beans to practice with him in a paper cup that also contained sour cream and probably pudding.

- Sticky Rice: is only thing that Oliver Burruss would eat for dinner with the exception of four pieces of grilled chicken, given that the menu otherwise lacks pasta sauce, cheddar cheese, saltines, and oreos.

But we only have another week of HUDS food to get through and then it's back to 730 Swamp Road, which means that all of our meals will look like this:

Trapps got 5" of fresh white stuff yesterday, so we're hopeful that the snow will live through some of the rain forecasted for this week and that we can all get on our new race boards for the Eastern Cups. More importantly, I promise that this will be the last blog post about HUDS. Ever. Sorry for leaving the blog in even worse shape than Dave did,

-Schlutz

For the Very First Time...

Today is a special day indeed. For the first time in my 3.4 year career at Harvard College USA, I was brave enough to walk into the dining hall and face my greatest fear to date: the HUDS breakfast pizza. Now hold on- I know just what you're thinking: How could one realistically stomach such a medley of stale crust, last week's shriveled green peppers, and mystery meat? Good question. 

Well, I just grabbed a wedge with the oatmeal scooper, and dumped it on board next to my bowl of steel-cut. Verdict? It sucked. Totally sucked. No surprise there. But then I got up and got another slice, becasue the prospect of HUDS Breakfast Pizza was just one of those special college memories I can't let slip through my fingers during this senior year. Anna feels the same way, and she's planning on trying some breakfast pizza next Thursday. 

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go help Nabel clean his room: 

http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/hou/852526961.html

D

Editor's Note: Has anyone else noticed a sharp decline in the quality/content of Dave's posts?

Inspiration

Sometimes, all we need in life is just a little inspiration. Quite frankly, I'm not sure how people seemed to find this in the dark days before youtube. Perhaps inspiration just didn't even exist back then. Whatever.

So if you're stuck with three ultra-lame papers to write before you can bust out of here before Christmas Break/Camp, I figure you'll need a little extra motivation. This first video is good for those days when you wake up feeling like you can just wake up and crush it, you know? Think-Ethan Weibrecht shredding up Lake Placid:

Good. So if you're already in a crush-it state of mind, watch this video. Then, head out to the ski tracks, start yelling at some random skier, tear off one of your pole-tips, and forcefully challenge them to a head to head 100m sprint. Don't worry-chances are they've already seen this video, so they'll totally understand why you just kicked their Chariot child carrier out of the "sprint lane" to make for a "fair Norway-Sweeden  fight".  

But maybe you're not already in that kind of mood. Maybe you woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Hell, maybe you just fell out of the bed altogether, and you just need to watch something to affirm the fact that other people have bad days, too. Here's one. Looks like David Millar had a pretty bad day here. 

Well, that should take care of your daily inspiration. Take away points? Hmm. I guess either start tearing off pole tips, or tossing bikes over barriers, but either way, you should walk away from it pretty charged up.

Did I really just write this garbage? Yes. Yes I did.

-DMac

Gratuitous Photo Post

Synchronized no pole uphill

Beginning of the Gravy Train

Harvard Nordic's #1 fan!

Our team is patriotic

Almost all of Harvard's nordic and alpine crew at the Thanksgiving table

Dave and the Schulz brothers carve one of the four turkeys

We can't thank the Schulz family enough for opening their home to us this Thanksgiving, giving us a wonderful meal, and talking us into that third piece of pie.

Love and leftovers,
MB

"Total Meat Wagon"

On Friday, November 28th, Harvard Nordic epically united in a train of love, singing in unison these five, powerful, team-building words to prove that they could, in fact, make a highly technical and mind-blowing film, shot from the most dangerous angles and capturing the extreme edge, wildness and bravery that defines them.

Title: Love Train

Summary: Eleven athletes streamline on twenty-two skis, hands to asses, demonstrating advanced skills in a serpentine train, obliterating jagged shards of boulder with the mere might of their ferocity--their skis untouched and exuding crazy speed!

Setting: “Telemark” trail @ Trapps in Stowe, VT

Starring:
1) T-Revs: conductor; known for his exacting precision on icy, treacherous turns; “snow plow” isn’t in his vocabulary.
2) Schlutzer: train instigator/initiator; wild ginger, rosy-cheeked from her passion for team-building in the form of the love train.
3) Bad Man/D-Mac: train instigator/initiator; recognized by husky petergravian accent; snow plows so little, the tails of his skis meet.
4) A-Devs: sick but tough- nothing will get in the way of this fierce skier’s way; don’t trust that steady, sweet and innocent smile.
5) Audwee44@gmail.com: the weak link; likes to see where she is going (vision is overrated); is harassed endlessly at dinner and will be made to lead “Love Train: The Sequel” and write the next blog.
6) Mer: brings nasty style and pizzazz to the love train, overcoming a (lovable) lumberjack cough and staph infection; would win the tough cookie award, but Cara ate the last one.
7) Spraguer: damsel rescued from the xc-running team just in time for the love train!; has likely already said “That’s what she said” five times while reading this blog.
8) Coils: blond babe bravely succeeding infamous #5 (see above); bites snow with a graceful somersault and a smile (no more pavement!).
9) Clare: Freshman #1; screaming and smiling all the way down; recommends we try again with poles (last time she stabbed her sister [lovingly])--nevertheless, this promises great future feats of bravery.
10) Mannon: Freshman #2; also screaming and smiling all the way down; known for hill-fright, but demonstrating a quick recovery thanks to tender, supportive words from her captains; annihilates her baby skis.

Casting:
Tofters: Badass cinematographer performing turns facing behind, backwards skiing and advanced 360˚ wild tumbling footage. Mad props.

Featuring:
The “We Can Make a Video” song by Petros
Hysterical Screams of Terror by the Harvard Nordic Freshmen.

Reviews:
Having discovered the magic of Clare’s video camera, Harvard Nordic ski workouts have become a significantly less productive…
BUT there are important strategic values that may, at first be overlooked. These being: team-building and bonding, balance, coordination, trust, overcoming common sense and living on the wild side...walking along the razor's edge, and the like.
Audrey is going to live longer than all of us.

Take 1:


Take 2:


In all seriousness, today was a great training day. We hit it off with a long classic ski and some drills to work on hip drive and power. We learned (as we do every year) that klister is a bitch, but after rollerski season, we only care that we’re finally on snow!

Love,
Freshman #2

DANGER: Nordic Pteradactyls

Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you and welcome back to the Crimson Nordic Blog.

Yes, it's true. We haven't written on our trusty blog in many moons, and your efficiency and performance reviews at work have no doubt improved because of it. We sincerely apologize. However, you're in for a real treat, because today is a special day. No, no blog readers really don't care that today happened to be Crimson Nordic's first day on snow for the 2k8/9 season, but it happens to be the birthday of notable Ski Team Alum Andrew Roberts Moore.
For those whose most recent copy of Crimson Tracks seemed to have been lost in the mail along with their GM 3rd quarter dividend payout checks, Anders has since moved to Marquette, MI, and is currently the assistant Nordic coach for the Marquette Ski Club. Learn 'em good up there, Anders! (And if you run out of boring ski drills, calmly read them some Habermas and they'll peel out for an OD ski faster than you can say "American Pragmatism").

So happy birthday to you, Andy. Also, we've made a pact to be better with shout-outs to recent CrimsonNordic alums on the blog, so buckle your seatbelts.


Alright. Oh, yeah! First day on snow! As we speak, the Nordic A-Roster is packed into the cozy "Chateau La Femme", or annex cabin of Stowe's favorite five-star: the Innsbruck Inn. After a tasty dinner of steak and shrimp stir-fry (to the cooking/clean up of which I offered very little), we're all unwinding on the couch watching the episode of "the Office" where Jim dresses up as Dwight. Read, "Which type of bear is best?"

Skiing rocked. Solid cover on the notch between Stowe and Smuggs, we ended up with 1:30 of tasty skate skiing, just enough to get the lats and tris pumpin'. And yeah, we got it on video with our new helmet cam! Dive in below:

So that's our news. Beyond that we're simply busy embodying the lifestyle of "all-in", "all-out", "no excuses", and "live to win... 'til you die".

Happy b-day Andy, wish you were here.

Best-

Crimson Nordic, back from Hibernation

Bam.

Oktober.

For the past seven weeks or so, the Harvard Nordic team has been consumed with academic endeavors so gruesome that all of its members have had no more than precisely 11 seconds per hour to commit to blogging. From reading every footnote of Choper and Fallon's tenth edition Constitutional Law casebook to investment banking interviews and professional etiquette dinners, our google calendars have had so many overlapping obligations that today, my friends, is the first time that any Crimson skier has had time to blog since early September. And it's being sent from my mobile device, which is so perilously small that I've nearly sent it through the wash four times. Luckily I get texts so often that I've always heard it beeping in a pocket before I can actually start my laundry, which really only consists of jeans, because everything else I own needs to get dry-cleaned.

And by all that I mean to say that David McCahill and I have been so busy baking apple crisps (and then eating said apple crisps... and then evading the subsequent waves of horrific and unavoidable flatulence brought on by the digestion of said apple crisps) that we've been too preoccupied to blog. Apologies. But look!

Dave demonstrates his domestic prowess.

Fall training has been going well. The men's team is small but determined and the women's team is both sizeable and committed. Unusually nice fall weather in Cambridge has allowed to get in numerous OD skis out in Littleton and runs on the trails around Walden Pond. Today we worked on skate technique at the closest safe rollerski venue: the Cambridge Cemetery, which is not only plagued by bloodthirsty coyotes, but has recently been fallen victim to a copper theif as well. Needless to say, we're leading suspects.

Audrey, me, Alyssa, and Clare doing some pickups

Joe and Dave getting off the starting line quick-like

Katie and Meri drag-racing

Stay tuned for updates, which will come much more regularly now that apples are getting to be out-of-season.

- Schlutzer

Snow Report: Ushuaia, Argentina

Once again following the policy of better late than never...

About three weeks ago I finally took advantage of the fact that it is winter in Argentina and got in some very ski-specific summer training:

The glacier.

"If you're a beginner, turn here."



The Beagle Channel.



Snowing too hard to see the mountains.

Turns out a Bates skier, Sam Evans-Brown, had been hanging out in Ushuaia training, but left the day before I got there. I did manage to end up on a shuttle with the Canadian men's alpine team though.

¿y vos? ¿de donde sos?

So, I'm not exactly a city person. Put me in Boston for a few months and I'm okay. Put me in New York for more than a few days and, well, yeah. There are about 13 million people in the greater Buenos Aires.

Now, the fact that I spend a good deal of my time during the week in lab (and say what you will, I really like the lab, so since I had to work for the summer one way or the other...) helps a bit. But I needed a little bit of time away from the busy, never ever ever resting craziness that is la Capital Federal. Solution: about three weeks ago (I'm a little behind), I flew out to the Iguazú Falls in the northern part of the country.

Iguazú Falls (las Cataratas) are on the river between Argentina and Brazil, a couple miles from where the borders also meet the border with Paraguay. If anyone has seen the new Indiana Jones movie (I haven't), they're supposedly featured. I've heard that the view of one of the biggest falls, Garganta del Diablo (Devil's Throat) is better from the Brazilian side, but I didn't really feel like spending the time and money to get a Brazilian visa. Apparently at some point in the last few years, the US started requiring Brazilians to have a visa to even set foot in the US, and Brazil responded in kind. Iguazú means "big water" (i- water, guazú- big) in Guaraní, the language of the indigenous people in the border region.

Big water is an accurate description. Amazing, gorgeous, unbelievable also work. Here:




The falls are one of the larger tourist attractions in Argentina. While most of the people there were Argentine or Brazilian, almost everyone was a tourist. And while most of the people there were Argentine or Brazilian, here "most" does not mean nearly all. At dinner on Friday night I spent about an hour talking to two Australian women, one of whom lives in Hong Kong. I spent Saturday morning wandering around the falls with two college students from Scotland and Australia, respectively. I went hiking that afternoon with an Aussie and two Canadians and then had dinner with two Argentines and three British women. Later in the evening I went exploring the town with a group from Holland. Sunday afternoon, along with two of the Dutch guys, I hung out with three Spaniards and two Israelis. My seat on the plane back to Buenos Aires was in the middle of a French family. How did I meet these people? Some of them were at the same hostel. Otherwise, I took to turning around and asking where people were from (hence the title of this post) every time I heard English. Because everyone was a tourist, it was not nearly as creepy and awkward as it would normally be. Or at least so I thought.

Last week I went to Uruguay for a little bit. Really cool colonial city named Colonia (who would have imagined, I know?)

Oh! Also, something really cool happened here the other day. I was wandering around about three blocks from where I live here when...wait...squint...yup...that sweatshirt looks familiar! In the middle of Buenos Aires, I managed to find someone wearing a 2006 Eastern Nordic Championships sweatshirt. A girl from western Mass. Someone here who has raced at Weston!

And on the topic of skiing, I'm going to get in some very ski specific summer training. I'm not going to the famous Bariloche, which while beautiful, is almost entirely alpine. Instead, I'm heading to Ushuaia for a few days, which is apparently the best place on this continent to go nordic skiing. The city is in Tierra del Fuego and is supposed to be the southernmost city in the world. Yes, I'm going skiing in August. On Wednesday. Hah!

More to come (don't worry, I'll rub in the I'M GOING SKIING part plenty more).
-KEC

The Cobra

Dear Blog Readers:

I know what you're thinking. Right off the bat. Why is this post titled, "The Cobra"? Easy. You're naturally thinking it could be for one of two possible reasons. Possibly it's a vague allusion to "The Python", a highly sophisticated retail technique used by Bill Schneider of Placid Planet Bicycles. If you're thinking this, I commend you for your out-of-the-box effort, but you're just plain wrong. Ollie has surely guessed it by now, and it's true. "The Cobra" is the name of the new local road ride with a near cult-like following.

If you're really confused at this point, relax. "The Cobra" is simply the nickname of cycling phenom/ savage doper Ricardo Ricco. Here's a nice photo of Ricardo himself being led away by the police. Smile, Ricardo!

It's time to kick the mid/late-summer training blues and turn things up a notch, just like Matthew McConaughey would. In honor of Billy Demong's assault on the Tour of Utah, here are some rants about local cycling routes, in particular super hilly ones where you won't be in constant danger of being t-boned by aerobars or being reduced to nausea by copious, poorly inked M-Dot tattoos.


Anyhow, last year, the hot local road ride which was simply saturated with vicious climbs became affectionately known as "The Michael Rasmussen Route". However, Ollie and I have found it imperative to include the recently paved Schaeffer road into the mix, as it's... well... recently paved. Duh. So now, the once glorious Michael Rasmussen Route has faded into obscurity faster than last year's Hoops Prize winners, and it's been replaced by the two-fanged and incredibly dangerous Cobra Route. Just swing by your local bike shop, pop your head in the door, and loudly shout, "Hey! I'm off to do the Cobra! See you poor saps in 3 hours!" When all you receive are awkward glances or hushed whispers to quietly leave the store, just shout even louder, "I'm off to ride the snake! I'm gonna live forever!" If at this point you're not in handcuffs, just like Ricardo Ricco is now, go out and enjoy the ride. Bring lots of food and water.



Be sure and click "show elevation", that's important.

Lastly, The Cobra has a european counterpart which can also be viewed on mapmyride.com:



Enough ranting. Go and do something fun. Preferably outdoors.

-DMac

Updates from North Elba

Greetings fellow Blog readers from the quiet hills of the Adirondacks.

Much is happening in the world these days. Michael Phelps is swimming like a fish, John Edwards is lying like a rug, and several members of Harvard Nordic's elite are training like... emm... wild dogs. Yes, wild dogs.

It's been a great summer so far, despite being stuck in the nagging clutches of Tropical Strom Lake Placid. That hasn't stopped us from logging the hours, ticking away at the threshold sessions, bagging serious peaks, endlessly double-poling Bear Cub, and eating cookies that Anna and Audrey bake at a frantic pace.

Time in the weight room from our girls is already paying off, and I managed to squeeze off this photo of Meri Burruss' calves during the last of her stellar performances in the local Mini Triathlon. She and Audrey have been using the races as some bonus cross-training intensity to nicely pad the training log.

This past Saturday, Harvard Skiing Fan #1 Matt Delaney and myself travelled to Jericho VT, via Burlington Regional Airport*, to partake in the annual Jericho Range Roll. After being denied access to the much touted evenly matched NENSA v2 Rollerskis, probably because of the color of our skin, Matt and I simply took two pairs of his own V2 boards. We set 'em up on a waxing bench, donned our respirators, and greased the bearings with EPO, then attached rocket boosters to both pairs. This alerted race officials, who disqualified us from the "offical" podium after Matt placed a strong 2nd behind Bill Bowler and I rounded off the podium. I knew it was a stupid idea, Matt! Damn. That prize money could have paid my gas bill, my houseboat bill, and probably three months of child support.

Link to story and results: http://www.nensa.net/news/news_more.php?id=2776

So thanks for reading, and stay tuned for more updates, but take solace in the fact that Harvard Nordic is busily gearing up for it's fastest season yet.

See you out there--


Dave

*Denotes a funny detour/story.

Anna and I must be really really ridiculously good looking

Because Lowell Bailey stopped us on Averyville Road to introduce himself. Okay, so we were rollerskiing, and he did start talking about skiing at first, but the conversation did turn itself to the scintillating topics of: his music at the recent BarbecueFest and his possibly failed engagement to one of Anna and Ollie's buddies from last summer. Unfortunately, we were too starstruck to tell him how much we love our team's adopted anthem, Fire Them Down. And he was too awed by our sweaty and rain-drenched good looks to ask for our numbers.

To finish, check us out on the fourth:
yeah, i made both those shirts.

What season is it?

Winter. Again. No summer for me this year. Not that winter in Buenos Aires is really winter. And it has been really cold a few days. I mean, who in their right mind would consider wearing less than a sweater, jacket, scarf, and hat when it is only 10C (50F) outside? I have started getting used to the mumbles when I go running in shorts ("crazy girl's gonna die, it's freezing"). I think my personal favorite was one I heard this morning: "So what, you gonna wear a jacket in the middle of the summer then?"

The city itself is HUGE. There are quite literally 500 bus lines and your standard avenida has no fewer than 8 lanes in one direction. Not that anyone actually pays attention to lanes. I was prepared for the Spanish to be spoken fairly quickly, but not for the accent, which replaces anything that would normally sound like "y" in Spanish (including "ll") with something more like "sh" or "shj." The end result was that the first few days were rather like being in the middle of NYC at rush hour and only understanding every third word.

I'm staying in a residencia, which is kinda like living in the dorms again, except with 4 people sharing a room the size of your average single. So far, there are or have been kids here from the US, Argentina, Brazil, Colombia, Bolivia, Peru, Mexico, Spain, France, and South Africa. Right now I'm the only American and would be the only English-speaker if not for the South African guys (who might as well speak a different language because while fluent, their Afrikaner accent is strong enough that I have problems understanding them). I end up playing translator for those three, which has had its entertaining moments.

Because my naturally blonde hair makes it 95% certain I'm a foreigner before I open my mouth, I've been carefully studying other ways of seeming less like a gringa. For the fashion minded, a few tips on how to dress like an Argentinian:

- Wear layers. Lots of them. Preferably of mismatched color and print.

- Cover your neck. This means either a scarf or a turtleneck. Yes, turtleneck.

- Roll up your jeans. This one is actually sensible- they shouldn't drag.

- Converse Allstars. Mandatory. May be occasionally substitute knee high leather boots if female.

- Obviously attended-to hair. For women, this means lots of layers, side part, half up, well-concealed bobby pins. For guys, this means more hair gel than I used in my last ballet performance when my hair stayed in a French twist on its own, without pins.

The end result of this careful study is that I have occasionally been asked for directions by random people on the street. Of course, the entire illusion falls apart the instant I open my mouth. Oops. It was kinda funny though to let an American guy on the bus struggle through an entire explanation of how lost he was and where he needed to go in (interesting) Spanish before I responded in English.

Speaking of random people on the street... So it turns out that Argentinian guys are much more aggressive when it comes to persuing women. Example: while walking down the street on a holiday Monday morning, I was approached by a man in business dress who appeared to be about 30. He explained that he never does this sort of thing, but that I am the most beautiful woman he has ever seen, and he just had to tell me that, and would I like to go get coffee? Not the only time here I have been asked out to coffee by a random guy while waiting to cross the street. The starring, whistling, and side comments have led to plenty of awkward moments. Including when I was discussing sports related scars with one of the guys at the residencia and rolled up my pant leg to show off a particularly impressive rollerskiing scar (for reference, see "my ass looks like hamburger" from sometime in the end of March), only to discover that the Colombian guy I was talking to has a calf fetish. Um, yeah... On the bright side, I've discovered that when I get dressed up, I can get on the subway for free.


Lab is great. It's mostly guys and they are generally younger than the ones in my lab at home, and therefore a little less serious about life in general. We speak a mix of Spanish and English because they want to improve their English and I want to speak Spanish. I've decided that it's harder to switch back and forth than to just pick one and stick to it, but oh well. A few of them were really concerned that I would be bothered by the fact that I don't always understand what's going on when they start talking really fast with slang (can you imagine someone trying to understand the way some of the people on our team talk?). I explained that no, it doesn't bother me, at least the dominant language is Spanish, which I generally understand, instead of Chinese like in lab at home. Kinda strange to understand more in a lab in a different country...

The food here is clog-your-arteries-and-give-you-a-heart-attack-by-age-25 amazing. I think I have had 2 salads the entire time I've been here. Oops. But really, people just don't eat healthy here. There's milanesa (thin breaded steak), empanadas (think hot pocket), and alfajors (two or three layers of dulce de leche, a caramel-like substance, between soft cookie-ish things, all covered in chocolate). Aside from being used in alfajors, dulce de leche can also be put on crapes for breakfast, made into an incredible ice cream flavor, and baked into the middle of muffins.

Okay folks, I finally posted. That means it's your turn. I love hearing from you!

Coil(s)

Updates from the land where rollerblading is still considered to be a major form of personal transport

Greetings team members and team member supporters!

As some of you may know, my access to internet is rather limited, but that hasn’t slowed down my personal LAN capabilities, and I’ve been good and busy. And I don’t want to let the cat out of the bag, but this year’s edition of Let’s Go: Rural Austria is going to be spicier than ever.

Now that a dismal, nagging case of low pressure has been blasted out of the Tirol by some high pressure straight from the sands of Africa, we’ve been blessed with outrageously gorgeous weather. It’s been nice, so I’ve been doing a fair amount of traveling. That’s been nice, too. Here’s a brief recount of the adventures thus far:

Two weekends ago, I snagged a spot onto a bus headed South with several of my classmates from last semester, and we enjoyed a glorious weekend in a region known as “Süd Tirol”, which once denoted the Southern border of the once infamous Austrian empire, but which was divvied up by President Woodrow Wilson and given to Italy in 1914. Training was sparce this weekend and we passed the time exploring the famous Neustift Monastery, touring five illustrious Tirolean castles, including Schloß Tirol- the former epicenter of Tirol, imbibing heartily during a decadent wine tasting led by Count Siegfried de Rachewilz and getting a rad demonstration on the art of falconry. Incredible! Got a “buzzing the tower” flyby from a huge horned Owl with a 2.5 meter wingspan, his talons grazed my scalp as he cruised over! The staff did not take kindly to my suggestion on changing his name to Maverick.

After a speedy and busy week spent getting ahead on some research, lounging with my hosts here in Lans, Familie Stöger and logged some of those monotonous sustained threshold hours. I packed up shop on Saturday and headed to a tiny village called Kuchl, just south of Salzburg, for the Salzburger Triathlon. What an incredible site- hands down the most beautiful race venue I’ve been to, the swim took place in a pristine little lagoon complete with what I called “Pleasue Island”, for no real reason, and the 40km bike ride spun us out through windy single-lane downtown streets packed with cheering fans, and up into the mountains South of town. The field was really strong, with nearly 550 athletes present, including Austrian Phenom Frederic Kohl who wound up 3^rd, a renowned pro who finished 4^th at the famous race in Kona a couple years back.

After returning to my cozy home in Lans and enjoying a nice day of recovery, I headed West for my inaugural trip to Voralberg, the western-most region of Austria, to meet with Paul Ammann, the mayor of a small village called Ludesch. Paul was one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met, and explained to me how he’d spent the first 30 years of his life as a baker, waking up at 4 every morning to bake fresh loaves. The citizens of Ludesch elected him mayor in 1984, and since then he’s revolutionized the once-sleepy town into the headquarters of the environmental movement in Austria. The details are unreal- The town now boasts an average of 1.5 meters of solar panel/ citizen, and is kept warm via a brand new underground biomass plant which burns the “Hackenschnitzel”, or wood chips, left over from the town’s extensive forestry projects. Paul, however, was most proud of the new village community center which houses the post office, town offices, a stunning café and book store, all under a roof made of local white fir beams combined with revolutionary solar paneling which provide all the necessary electricity for the facility. Such a beautiful yet functional community space! Should make for some interesting writing!

So things are beginning to wind down, and I’ll be gearing up for my last of the Austrian Cup Triathlon events, the Innsbrucker Classic right here in, well, Innsbruck, on July 6^th. I’m planning a little trip to Croatia with some friends afterwards, and then it’s back to the Olympic Village to combine forces with the Ladies’ Team, and log some hours with whatever recent graduates happen to be bumming around town at that point. Can’t wait to be back, and see what kind of “nails” shape all of you are in upon my return.

I’ll borrow a classic line which some of you might recognize that dutifully announces the inevitable end to every trip:

“Geeeeeeet totheyellowlineandmovetotherightquicklyplease…”

DMac