So I'm sitting in the Innsbruck Inn watching nothing on television and pretending to work on my thesis. Thinking about going to bed.
Tomorrow is a 10k classic mass start for both the men and the women. The weather forecast is up in the air - right around freezing with some form of precipitation.
For Saturday's sprint skate race the weather is supposed to be worse - rain.
Alright, that's it for now. Good luck to all!
Ride the snake.
-Anders
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Monday, January 21, 2008
Tuesday night world champs
Watch out for master blasters tomorrow night, team.
I was going to post a picture of this gnarly puncture wound in my leg and tell you that's what would happen if you got too close to the wildly swinging poles of certain "Men of Weston," but I don't have a camera or the ability to upload photos from my phone to the computer.
The story behind the puncture wound isn't even that sweet - no, I was not stabbed by an angry Glenn Randall as I stormed by him on the way to EISA glory. Instead I was trying to clean the snow out of my boots before my start on Friday and the timer told me I had 30 seconds to go and I got startled, lost my balance, and stabbed myself with my pole in the thigh. It was pretty spectacular. You had to be there.
Enjoy Cambridge - Dave and I are itching for some good team down time. See you in a few days.
-- O
P.S. - Everyone should watch Scott Macartney's crash from the Kitzbuehel alpine WC. It's crazy.
I was going to post a picture of this gnarly puncture wound in my leg and tell you that's what would happen if you got too close to the wildly swinging poles of certain "Men of Weston," but I don't have a camera or the ability to upload photos from my phone to the computer.
The story behind the puncture wound isn't even that sweet - no, I was not stabbed by an angry Glenn Randall as I stormed by him on the way to EISA glory. Instead I was trying to clean the snow out of my boots before my start on Friday and the timer told me I had 30 seconds to go and I got startled, lost my balance, and stabbed myself with my pole in the thigh. It was pretty spectacular. You had to be there.
Enjoy Cambridge - Dave and I are itching for some good team down time. See you in a few days.
-- O
P.S. - Everyone should watch Scott Macartney's crash from the Kitzbuehel alpine WC. It's crazy.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Lessons learned
We just got back to Chez McCahill after the first race of the SLU carnival, a 10k skate. The race ran 3 laps of a 3.3k course, which basically started flat, dropped down a short hill, climbed up a short hill, did about a k of flats, then hit a gnarly off-camber 180 degree downhill corner and then did climb that was maybe 1 minute of V1 before a flat to the finish/lap area. The conditions were pretty gnarly - yesterday Van Ho was basically 2 inches of ice and then an inch of scratchy powder and sticks. The corner mentioned above was boilerplate ice, totally exposed because all the snow was pushed down to the outside. The line basically demanded a powerslide because there was no snow to step turn in, and if you went too wide you got shot out into the woods. Suffice it to say, I was slightly nervous.
Come race day the plan was to start relatively fast, but with some reserves, since the course was basically all flat with very little rest. I made the mistake of doing a strength workout on Tuesday and despite an ice bath and a sauna and a lot of stretching, my legs were still really sore. That kind of sore you get when you start running consistently again in April. I could push, but I lacked any sort of pop, and the soreness just added to the overall fatigue of having to push a fast tempo V2/alternate on the flats for 10k.
I wrecked on the corner the first time, which probably cost me something on the order of 10 seconds - I even lost my headband and glasses, which thankfully survived the next 100 racers (102 entrants today!) unscathed. After the fall Walt Shepard caught me from 30 seconds and I kept him basically in sight for the rest of the race. Because my legs were already sore, I felt like I was going slower than I probably really was, and I was convinced I was not having a good day. I maintained my focus as best I could and pushed it hard around the course, catching some rides from some Bates and Colby guys and taking the gnarly 180 corner conservatively every time (probably too conservatively).
Even though the course didn't really fit my strengths, namely because it had little sustained climbing and not much rest, not to mention the "corner of death," I wasn't too optimistic after I finished. I think I remarked to someone that I'd be pumped to be in the top 60. Turns out I improved on last week by a single place, finishing 41st on a bad day. The spread was tight again - I was about 2 minutes out of first, a minute from the top 15, and 12 seconds from the top 30 (I think - I don't have the results in front of me and I only saw them once). The fitness is there, and as soon as the legs come around again, I'm gonna be looking for something bigger. Right now we're 100% about tomorrow: 20k classic on a 3.3k loop. Piss! Pi-pi-piss! Nah, it's gonna be a good one, a shot at redemption.
I'll let everyone else tell their own stories, mainly because I can't remember the results. Right now Dave and I are gonna sauna, nap, and race wax some boards. Living the good life, you know?
Good luck to those of you who have finals on the horizon, and also good luck to the Anders, whose entire future is on the line when he heads to DC next week. Don't f-ck it up, kid! Just kidding.
-- The General
Come race day the plan was to start relatively fast, but with some reserves, since the course was basically all flat with very little rest. I made the mistake of doing a strength workout on Tuesday and despite an ice bath and a sauna and a lot of stretching, my legs were still really sore. That kind of sore you get when you start running consistently again in April. I could push, but I lacked any sort of pop, and the soreness just added to the overall fatigue of having to push a fast tempo V2/alternate on the flats for 10k.
I wrecked on the corner the first time, which probably cost me something on the order of 10 seconds - I even lost my headband and glasses, which thankfully survived the next 100 racers (102 entrants today!) unscathed. After the fall Walt Shepard caught me from 30 seconds and I kept him basically in sight for the rest of the race. Because my legs were already sore, I felt like I was going slower than I probably really was, and I was convinced I was not having a good day. I maintained my focus as best I could and pushed it hard around the course, catching some rides from some Bates and Colby guys and taking the gnarly 180 corner conservatively every time (probably too conservatively).
Even though the course didn't really fit my strengths, namely because it had little sustained climbing and not much rest, not to mention the "corner of death," I wasn't too optimistic after I finished. I think I remarked to someone that I'd be pumped to be in the top 60. Turns out I improved on last week by a single place, finishing 41st on a bad day. The spread was tight again - I was about 2 minutes out of first, a minute from the top 15, and 12 seconds from the top 30 (I think - I don't have the results in front of me and I only saw them once). The fitness is there, and as soon as the legs come around again, I'm gonna be looking for something bigger. Right now we're 100% about tomorrow: 20k classic on a 3.3k loop. Piss! Pi-pi-piss! Nah, it's gonna be a good one, a shot at redemption.
I'll let everyone else tell their own stories, mainly because I can't remember the results. Right now Dave and I are gonna sauna, nap, and race wax some boards. Living the good life, you know?
Good luck to those of you who have finals on the horizon, and also good luck to the Anders, whose entire future is on the line when he heads to DC next week. Don't f-ck it up, kid! Just kidding.
-- The General
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Back on the Placid Planet
Life is good and the livin' is easy here in Placid. Weather is cold, snow is rather scarce. After getting some much needed rest and catching up on the local gossip, I headed out to Van Ho yesterday to scope out the nordic offerings and do the Tuesday interval workout on the race course.
There's a 3.3km loop on the biathlon side of about 4 inches of firmly packed, well machined white. Loop is not the standard 2.5km race loop but the longer version of the course sometimes used for pursuits and world cup b's. There's one 2.5 minute hill with mostly V-2 able terrain and plenty of transitions that should make the goings more difficult.
Weather is cold now, mid to high teens, with a spicy little forecast calling for some snow late Thursday night and Friday morning:
http://www.wunderground.com/cgi-bin/findweather/getForecast?query=12946
See you guys up here, good luck with exams.
-D
There's a 3.3km loop on the biathlon side of about 4 inches of firmly packed, well machined white. Loop is not the standard 2.5km race loop but the longer version of the course sometimes used for pursuits and world cup b's. There's one 2.5 minute hill with mostly V-2 able terrain and plenty of transitions that should make the goings more difficult.
Weather is cold now, mid to high teens, with a spicy little forecast calling for some snow late Thursday night and Friday morning:
http://www.wunderground.com/cgi-bin/findweather/getForecast?query=12946
See you guys up here, good luck with exams.-D
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
"Wait... how many miles is 10k?"
There are more restaurants within 3 blocks of my dorm than there are in the entire town of Rumford, ME. The elevation gain from the bottom to the top of High School Hill is at least double that of any hill on the entire Weston ski track. Chummy Broomhall's basement has more firewood than a person could possibly gather if he cut down every tree within a fifty-foot radius of where I live (and by Harvard standards, I live in the boonies). Thirty-two degrees and freezing rain constitutes some waxing complications in Rumford, whereas here it causes the national weather service to issue a hazardous weather warning. In Rumford, getting to bed any time after 11pm is staying up too late, but on Harvard time it's so early that one can sleep for eight hours and still get to the dining hall before breakfast opens.
In New England it only takes four hours of driving to reach another world. As we drive north every weekend, it doesn't take long for the buildings to get a little shorter, for the trees to get a little thicker, for the snowbanks to get a little taller and whiter. My friends, classmates, and professors look at me like I'm crazy when I tell them that I'll be far away from campus at least every Thursday, Friday, and Saturday until sometime in March. Crazy turns to insane when I add that I'll be doing back to back races that are at least 5 kilometers in length, and insane makes the transition to maniacal when I add that I love it.
Our sport is not an easy one to understand. In the summer, we spend hours sweating under a hot sun as we rollerski over hot blacktop. We return home thirsty, hungry, tired, and proud as all hell of the sunburns that show off our sports bra or heart rate monitor tan lines. Maybe the next day it rains, and we train in the rain. We return home thirsty, hungry, tired, and proud as all hell of the mud spattered from the tops of our boots to the bottoms of our necks.
In the fall we congregate in Cambridge and pretend to concentrate on academics as it gets colder and muddier and rainier. Our roommates watch with a mixture of amusement and pity as we return home day after day, drenched, exhausted, and sometimes so sore that they can't help but laugh at the way we walk up the stairs. They ask us about our practices and then ask us to translate "8k time trial" or "max heart rate track test" or "6x4 level 4 bounding intervals" or "2.5 hour skate OD" into words that they can understand. So we do, and they feel bad for us and ask us why we're Nordic skiers. For a long time, I wasn't really sure how to answer that question. To be a Nordic skier is to be a crazy person. But being a crazy person enables one to experience things that the sane world misses.
Only crazy people will rollerski up a tall, windy, cold mountain just because it's a challenge. 
And only crazy people will spend 70% of the money they have to their names to travel to places that are far away, foreign, and cold. 
Being crazy has its benefits. It takes us out of Cambridge every weekend and, extracting us from the frenzy of Harvard during exam period, plunks us down in places like Rumford, where the "civilized" world seems far away and racing turns into the only thing that matters... and having spent the last nine months preparing, it suddenly matters a whole lot. So we race hard, and even when we finish far ahead of where we did last year, it's still not enough. Crazy people just aren't satisfied with solid - not ideal, but still very solid - races. We return to the frantic Harvard world and try to study, pretending that's what matters because according to most sane people it should be what matters. But really, we're just waiting for the next weekend, the next set of races, the next chance to test how tough we really are.
In New England it only takes four hours of driving to reach another world. As we drive north every weekend, it doesn't take long for the buildings to get a little shorter, for the trees to get a little thicker, for the snowbanks to get a little taller and whiter. My friends, classmates, and professors look at me like I'm crazy when I tell them that I'll be far away from campus at least every Thursday, Friday, and Saturday until sometime in March. Crazy turns to insane when I add that I'll be doing back to back races that are at least 5 kilometers in length, and insane makes the transition to maniacal when I add that I love it.
Our sport is not an easy one to understand. In the summer, we spend hours sweating under a hot sun as we rollerski over hot blacktop. We return home thirsty, hungry, tired, and proud as all hell of the sunburns that show off our sports bra or heart rate monitor tan lines. Maybe the next day it rains, and we train in the rain. We return home thirsty, hungry, tired, and proud as all hell of the mud spattered from the tops of our boots to the bottoms of our necks.
In the fall we congregate in Cambridge and pretend to concentrate on academics as it gets colder and muddier and rainier. Our roommates watch with a mixture of amusement and pity as we return home day after day, drenched, exhausted, and sometimes so sore that they can't help but laugh at the way we walk up the stairs. They ask us about our practices and then ask us to translate "8k time trial" or "max heart rate track test" or "6x4 level 4 bounding intervals" or "2.5 hour skate OD" into words that they can understand. So we do, and they feel bad for us and ask us why we're Nordic skiers. For a long time, I wasn't really sure how to answer that question. To be a Nordic skier is to be a crazy person. But being a crazy person enables one to experience things that the sane world misses.
Only crazy people run up mountains in the near-dark after work just so they can see a sunset.
Only crazy people will rollerski up a tall, windy, cold mountain just because it's a challenge. 
And only crazy people will spend 70% of the money they have to their names to travel to places that are far away, foreign, and cold. 
It snowed yesterday in Cambridge.
Everyone says that it's really pretty, but I'm fairly sure that you have to be at least a little bit nuts to really enjoy several inches of snow in the city. I guess that's why us skiers love it.
-Schulzy
Everyone says that it's really pretty, but I'm fairly sure that you have to be at least a little bit nuts to really enjoy several inches of snow in the city. I guess that's why us skiers love it.
-Schulzy
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
The beginning
It all starts Friday in Rumford. 5/10k skate races Friday and 10k classic races Saturday.
My new year's resolution is to race wicked fast.
-- O
My new year's resolution is to race wicked fast.
-- O
Sunday, January 6, 2008
She said, "My leather so soft"...
Sometimes, pictures can tell a story. This story is about Anna and I going skiing in Leutasch.
Two handsome bandits before a sign that reads, "Europe's largest cross country skiing center, 262km of pleasure and stress-free instant gratification. Yours for 1-2 easy payments of €4."
?!&%#@!
Two handsome bandits before a sign that reads, "Europe's largest cross country skiing center, 262km of pleasure and stress-free instant gratification. Yours for 1-2 easy payments of €4."
?!&%#@!Anna says, "Cross country skiing is fun!"
Dave says, "Diet coke I'm on my knees screaming 'Big girl you are beautiful'"
Austria will do weird things to you.
Hugs,
Anna and Dave
Dave says, "Diet coke I'm on my knees screaming 'Big girl you are beautiful'"
Austria will do weird things to you.
Hugs,
Anna and Dave
Saturday, January 5, 2008
nearly the worst travel day ever
It's official, half of the Austrian bandits are back stateside. After staying awake for 24 straight hours (hello, jetlag), I collapsed into bed at 1 in the morning last night after what could have been the worst travel day of my life, save for a few lucky breaks.
Nabes and I had a 1:10 flight from Munich that we needed to catch, so we figured we could take a morning train from Innsbruck and do all right. Dave found us a highspeed intercity express that would make it from Innsbruck to Munich in two hours before heading on to Berlin. And to make it even better, it left at 8:26 AM, so we wouldn't have to get up at the asscrack of dawn. Sounds great, right? Only problem was if we missed the train, the only other alternative was a regional train at 8:38 that would take over three hours to do the same trip.
We got to the Innsbruck train station at 8:10, with 15 minutes to go before the train left. Nabes watched the bags while I went into the grocery store to get some food for lunch, then we switched. After a few minutes, I looked at my watch and saw that it was 8:22 and Nabel was nowhere to be found. At 8:24 he emerged, carrying a schnitzel sandwich and some other treats. We grabbed our shit and hauled ass to the platform .. just in time to see the train leave without us. After some choice obsenities and a failed conversation with two chubby Euro dudes with snowboards we realized we had to roll the dice with the regional train and hope we could make our flight.
Cut to 4 hours later and I'm running through the Munich airport with two backpacks and a 48 pound ski bag and twenty minutes til my flight leaves. They rushed me through baggage check and I hustled off to security, only to have to empty my entire carry-on because the dude was sketched out by the wax brushes and iron Dave had given me to bring home. I got to the gate just in time to catch a few minutes of the Tour de Ski sprint on TV and watch as Nabel was downgraded from business to economy class (don't worry, he got 200 euros, his own personal meal, two seats in the front row in coach, and a bottle of champagne for his "troubles").
We made it from Munich to London, got through security with no problems, and made it to the terminal with time to spare. Chris even got me into the United Business Lounge (aka the Butterfly Lounge) as a guest. Then we got tagged for random bag checks at the gate, but even that wasn't so bad.
In DC we parted ways, tearfully, and I headed off to get my bags and go through customs before my connection to Manchester. Unfortunately, my bags had been improperly tagged in Munich and were on the other side of the DC airport. After the other shit I'd dealt with that day, finding my bags was cake. I settled down with a burger and a copy of Spin magazine (absolute trash, by the way) to kill time before my cramped flight to Manchester. Things were pretty uneventful from there on out, so I'll leave you with some takeaway points.
Ollie's Ve-Ri-Euro Travel Tips, a Guide for the Traveling Bandit:
- Get a wheelie ski bag, it'll really help when you're sprinting through train stations like a madman, yelling in English at Germans.
- Christopher Shield Nabel is always late. For everything. Like, later than Anna after a trip to Eastern Europe.
- Schnitzel sandwiches are delicious. They will also prove to be a wrench in the works of even the best laid travel plans.
- Nothing makes doing dishes easier than Pocahontas sing-a-longs with Nabel.
- Pretending no one understands English in Europe makes everything more fun (including acting like you have Tourettes).
- Euro-pop is amazing. Legit, amazing. Proof (in video form) is available below.
Sorry for the long post, but it was a story worth telling. Anyway, here's a video for the theme song of the Ve Ri Euro camp:
I'm off to the Butterfly Lounge,
-- O
Nabes and I had a 1:10 flight from Munich that we needed to catch, so we figured we could take a morning train from Innsbruck and do all right. Dave found us a highspeed intercity express that would make it from Innsbruck to Munich in two hours before heading on to Berlin. And to make it even better, it left at 8:26 AM, so we wouldn't have to get up at the asscrack of dawn. Sounds great, right? Only problem was if we missed the train, the only other alternative was a regional train at 8:38 that would take over three hours to do the same trip.
We got to the Innsbruck train station at 8:10, with 15 minutes to go before the train left. Nabes watched the bags while I went into the grocery store to get some food for lunch, then we switched. After a few minutes, I looked at my watch and saw that it was 8:22 and Nabel was nowhere to be found. At 8:24 he emerged, carrying a schnitzel sandwich and some other treats. We grabbed our shit and hauled ass to the platform .. just in time to see the train leave without us. After some choice obsenities and a failed conversation with two chubby Euro dudes with snowboards we realized we had to roll the dice with the regional train and hope we could make our flight.
Cut to 4 hours later and I'm running through the Munich airport with two backpacks and a 48 pound ski bag and twenty minutes til my flight leaves. They rushed me through baggage check and I hustled off to security, only to have to empty my entire carry-on because the dude was sketched out by the wax brushes and iron Dave had given me to bring home. I got to the gate just in time to catch a few minutes of the Tour de Ski sprint on TV and watch as Nabel was downgraded from business to economy class (don't worry, he got 200 euros, his own personal meal, two seats in the front row in coach, and a bottle of champagne for his "troubles").
We made it from Munich to London, got through security with no problems, and made it to the terminal with time to spare. Chris even got me into the United Business Lounge (aka the Butterfly Lounge) as a guest. Then we got tagged for random bag checks at the gate, but even that wasn't so bad.
In DC we parted ways, tearfully, and I headed off to get my bags and go through customs before my connection to Manchester. Unfortunately, my bags had been improperly tagged in Munich and were on the other side of the DC airport. After the other shit I'd dealt with that day, finding my bags was cake. I settled down with a burger and a copy of Spin magazine (absolute trash, by the way) to kill time before my cramped flight to Manchester. Things were pretty uneventful from there on out, so I'll leave you with some takeaway points.
Ollie's Ve-Ri-Euro Travel Tips, a Guide for the Traveling Bandit:
- Get a wheelie ski bag, it'll really help when you're sprinting through train stations like a madman, yelling in English at Germans.
- Christopher Shield Nabel is always late. For everything. Like, later than Anna after a trip to Eastern Europe.
- Schnitzel sandwiches are delicious. They will also prove to be a wrench in the works of even the best laid travel plans.
- Nothing makes doing dishes easier than Pocahontas sing-a-longs with Nabel.
- Pretending no one understands English in Europe makes everything more fun (including acting like you have Tourettes).
- Euro-pop is amazing. Legit, amazing. Proof (in video form) is available below.
Sorry for the long post, but it was a story worth telling. Anyway, here's a video for the theme song of the Ve Ri Euro camp:
I'm off to the Butterfly Lounge,
-- O
Thursday, January 3, 2008
On Goodbyes
Just underwent a tear filled, 20 minute goodbye with Chris and Ollie who will sadly be beginning the journey home to free soil in tomorrow's wee hours.
I'm parked behind the computer in my Studentenhaus, which in my opinion is rather rad, supposedly preparing for my oral exam in my "Vegetation der Alpen" class, tomorrow at 10am. It's midnight, I'm flashcarding it up, it's ultra lame. Kind of like that scene in Make Love, Not Warcraft, when Butters shows up as Cartman's elf character in the World of Warcraft. Ultra lame, not fun.
The week with the Bandits was a total success, made clear by the lack of blogging, photo taking, time wasting. The weather was epic due to a convenient high pressure system that kept clouds, rain, fog, misery and anguish... far away. Skiing was outstanding, training went great and according to plan, expectations were hopefully more than met. Sadly, we didn't take many pictures, so it goes.
Anna and myself will continue to live the dream until Sunday evening when she graces once again the "free and patriotic" side of the pond with her presence, but until then, expect some juicy stories to appear on the blog. Trevor, Katie, Alyssa, we sincerely hope you're all still alive, because your wonderfully written and Expos final paper-worthy blog posts were deleted in a freak gasoline fight.
Such is life.
Now, time for stock photos!
Enjoy the rest of the holidays,
~A distracted Dave (sans Chris, sans Ollie) ... ...
Ready? Your ears perked and taste buds salivated when you heard 'stock photo', so I can't and won't disappoint.
I'm parked behind the computer in my Studentenhaus, which in my opinion is rather rad, supposedly preparing for my oral exam in my "Vegetation der Alpen" class, tomorrow at 10am. It's midnight, I'm flashcarding it up, it's ultra lame. Kind of like that scene in Make Love, Not Warcraft, when Butters shows up as Cartman's elf character in the World of Warcraft. Ultra lame, not fun.
The week with the Bandits was a total success, made clear by the lack of blogging, photo taking, time wasting. The weather was epic due to a convenient high pressure system that kept clouds, rain, fog, misery and anguish... far away. Skiing was outstanding, training went great and according to plan, expectations were hopefully more than met. Sadly, we didn't take many pictures, so it goes.
Anna and myself will continue to live the dream until Sunday evening when she graces once again the "free and patriotic" side of the pond with her presence, but until then, expect some juicy stories to appear on the blog. Trevor, Katie, Alyssa, we sincerely hope you're all still alive, because your wonderfully written and Expos final paper-worthy blog posts were deleted in a freak gasoline fight.
Such is life.
Now, time for stock photos!
Enjoy the rest of the holidays,
~A distracted Dave (sans Chris, sans Ollie) ... ...
Ready? Your ears perked and taste buds salivated when you heard 'stock photo', so I can't and won't disappoint.
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
Austria Update
What up fools? It's Ollie, checking in from Innsbruck. I'm sitting in Dave's room in his studetenhaus (like a dorm, but shittier), digesting the delicious chicken and pasta dinner Dave made for us.
The deal for camp is that Anna, Chris, and I are crashing in Dave's buddy's apartment (10 minutes from the studetenhaus) and skiing nearly every day. We take the train to Seefeld and ski up there - all told, it probably costs like 8 bucks a day, and half the time we don't get charged to ski. It's great. Snow is money up here - we've been on Rode Multigrade Purple every day. It's warm enough for tights and shirts (except for today, which was kinda cold). Things are money, seriously.
Other than ski, we have done some sightseeing and we eat and sleep a lot. The other day we went to Intersport, this huge sports store, and scored some sweet schwag.
Last night we ran in the New Year in downtown Innsbruck with some of Dave's buddies. We watched some fireworks, listened to German bands, and made new friends. We also sang a rousing 4-part rendition of "The River."
Nabes and I only have two more days on the white stuff here, so were gonna take advantage of 'em (OD skate and 8.5k classic TT). Keep putting in those k's - racing is just around the corner.
-- O
P.S. - pictures will come, but I broke Anna's camera last night (I know, I'm an asshole), so they'll just have to wait.
The deal for camp is that Anna, Chris, and I are crashing in Dave's buddy's apartment (10 minutes from the studetenhaus) and skiing nearly every day. We take the train to Seefeld and ski up there - all told, it probably costs like 8 bucks a day, and half the time we don't get charged to ski. It's great. Snow is money up here - we've been on Rode Multigrade Purple every day. It's warm enough for tights and shirts (except for today, which was kinda cold). Things are money, seriously.
Other than ski, we have done some sightseeing and we eat and sleep a lot. The other day we went to Intersport, this huge sports store, and scored some sweet schwag.
Last night we ran in the New Year in downtown Innsbruck with some of Dave's buddies. We watched some fireworks, listened to German bands, and made new friends. We also sang a rousing 4-part rendition of "The River."
Nabes and I only have two more days on the white stuff here, so were gonna take advantage of 'em (OD skate and 8.5k classic TT). Keep putting in those k's - racing is just around the corner.
-- O
P.S. - pictures will come, but I broke Anna's camera last night (I know, I'm an asshole), so they'll just have to wait.
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