Rockslide Chapter 3

Rockslide Chapter 2

Here is the second chapter of my novel.

Rockslide: A Survival Story

The reason I haven't posted much on this blog the last couple of years is because I have been writing a novella titled Rockslide: A Survival Story. It's been a huge part of my life during this period, and I'm thrilled that it's finally finished.

In many ways the story is about running, so I felt like this blog would be an appropriate space for it. I will publish one chapter each day for the next 24 days. After that I will release it all together in some form. (Maybe I'll even print out hard copies. Remember those, with paper and ink?)

I really hope you enjoy it!



 

The Most Athletic Family in the World

It must be hard to be Ejegayehu Dibaba.

At the 2004 Athens Olympic Games she won the silver medal in the women's 10000m run. The next year, she won bronze medals in the 5000m and 10000m at the World Championships. But after all that, she is still only the 4^th most accomplished professional distance runner in her family.

From left to right: the illustrious sisters Ejegayehu, Genzebe, and Tirunesh.

First meet her cousin, Derartu Tulu: she has 5 World Championship medals in the 10000m, three of which are gold. But how close are most cousins, really? If the two only crossed paths at the occasional family reunion, Ejegayehu could still be the star athlete of the clan any other day.

That is, if it weren’t for Ejegayehu's sister, Tirunesh Dibaba. In addition to 13 Olympic or World Championship gold medals at 5000m and 10000m, she even has one standing World Record performance: a blistering 14 minute 11 second 5000m. Sounds impressive? It is.

Until, of course, you hear about the third sister, Genzebe Dibaba. The baby of the family already has 4 Olympic or World Championship gold medals and the current World Record in 6 events: the 1500m (both indoor and outdoor), the indoor 3000m, the indoor 5000m, the indoor mile, and the indoor two mile. Just watch her go:

If you think this is the sort of thing that looks more impressive on TV with the help of dramatic camera angles and slow motion replays, think again; it's more impressive in person. I was in Portland this winter for the World Indoor Championships and I saw Genzebe win the 3000m with my own eyes. And halfway through the race when she pulled away from the pack it looked like the other runners were standing still.

But perhaps the most impressive thing about the youngest Dibaba girl is her age—at just 25 years, she is actively setting new personal bests, and is sure to win more championships and break more records throughout her career.

So, yeah, it’s gotta be a little hard to be Ejegayehu. But if this is one of those families that gets together on Thanksgiving to run the local Turkey Trot, you can bet I’d watch that race.

There are different ways to win a race

There are different ways to win a race.

One way to win is strategy. Alternating tempos during the race, pushing and testing your opponent, wearing him out and getting under his skin until you make your last decisive move and he isn't ready for it or just doesn't have enough emotional capital left to match you.

Another way to win is through luck, which can play out in a number of ways. The heavy favorite could get tripped up and fall early in the race giving you a comparative advantage. Or the race tempo could just happen to play exactly to your particular strengths, giving you a slight edge over the other racers.

Yet another way to win is just to want it more. Whether its racing in front of the home crowd or coming off of a bad season with something to prove or one of a hundred other personal reasons, you can sometimes eke out a win by digging deeper than the rest of the field.

But the last way to win a race is the most obvious: be stronger than everyone else.

Strangely enough you see this situation less frequently than the others in world-class events because, at that level, everyone is as tough as everyone else. But sometimes there are true outliers.

Next weekend is the Prefontaine Classic, the most prestigious and competitive distance event held on American soil, and it reminded me of last year where Galen Rupp won the 10000 m. It went off at a hot tempo, with each lap in 64 or 65 seconds, and eventually they had whittled it down to just four men.

I had seen this situation before, a group of Africans and one white guy struggling to hang on. But looking at their expressions I could see that the situation was reversed: the Africans were the ones hurting, and Rupp looked easy and relaxed.

With three laps to go Sambu made a move to try to shake the rest of the field but Galen moved right with him. And when Rupp countered with his move (a 59 second penultimate lap!) no one could follow. He was just too strong. Rupp ended up setting a personal best, the American record, and the world lead (the fastest time run that year by any athlete in the world.)

As exciting as this race was I'm hoping this year's Prefontaine Classic brings something just as memorable. Galen Rupp will be there (this time in the 5000 m) along with almost every one of the world's very best. You can watch the event live Friday night on http://live.usatf.tv/livefripre.html and on Saturday on NBC.

How To Learn Any Classic Recipe

If you like to cook, you've probably had this experience before: you see a dish on TV or in a magazine, it looks great, so you decide to look it up and learn how to make it. The problem is that when you search for specific recipes, their are a hundred different versions, so which one is the best? And how do you find that specific one?

To answer this question you have to know a little about food history. The way a dish develops is that several basic ingredients are combined by different cooks over years, sometimes centuries. At first there are many variations, because each cook has their own specific taste. (This is the far left side of the graphic above.) But with each small change, they get feedback from the people that they are feeding (a mother cooking for her family, a chef for the guests at his restaurant), and the recipe gets altered accordingly. Eventually, all of the myriad versions converge to what most people prefer. (This is the narrow point in the center of the graphic.)

Here's where the story get's tricky. People who cook a lot get bored with even a perfect recipe, because they are cooking and eating more than the average person. So they start to experiment, retool, reinvent, and the recipe diverges again into many distinct forms. (This is the right side of the graphic.) It isn't that there is anything wrong with these new reincarnations; for a seasoned chef, they are probably more interesting. But for most everyone else, the dressed-up version isn't quite as good as the time-tested classic.

The problem that we find ourselves in is that, for most dishes, we are on the far right of the timeline. The perfect recipe was found and then partially lost in an array of flashy re-imaginings. So how do you get back to that sweet spot?

How to Learn Any Classic Recipe

Step 1. 

Read through several recipes for the same thing. Don't worry about memorization, you don't need all the details, just the overall method.

Step 2.

Whatever ALL versions have in common is the classic recipe!



That's it. You've extracted the basic recipe from the many variations. Let me show you an example. In the last few episodes of Iron Chef America someone made a bolognese sauce (a rich, rustic Italian sauce with tomatoes and meat, similar to a ragu.) So I read through five or six recipes and found that most had veal, many had pancetta, and some had cream, but the absolute essentials were these:

Bolognese

• Cook diced onions, carrots, celery, garlic, thyme, and bay leaves in oil.
• Add a combination of ground beef and ground pork to the pot and brown.
• Deglaze the pan with red wine. Then add beef stock and a tomato product (puree, paste, whole tomatoes) and simmer until the meat is tender (about 90 minutes).
• Serve over papardelle and garnish with Parmesan cheese.

The recipes you find online are what a bolognese CAN be. But this is what a bolognese IS. It may still take a couple of tries to get it perfect, but tinkering is easy once you know the fundamentals. The great thing about learning to cook this way is that you don't need a copy of the recipe any more, because you know what the dish is. You understand it. And you probably learned a lot about cooking along the way.

Night Run

WE HAD A snow/rain storm for most of the day yesterday, so I tried waiting it out, hoping for a break in the precipitation to sneak in a run. It was nearly 8 pm by the time that happened, but once I got out on the roads it was great: 34 degrees, wet, not raining but the clouds were thick and low doing that thing where they reflect the lights from the city so everything has this glossy glow like something out of a David Fincher movie.

A great shot from Fincher's masterpiece, "Zodiac."

I really wanted to do intervals, but the BYU indoor track was closed so I hopped the fence at the High School and ran on their oval. It was my first time running on a track at night. There were no direct lights, but it's right in the middle of town and there was enough ambient light from street lamps and storefronts and cars to allow me to make out the lane lines.

The workout was repeat quarter miles; it started out great, my legs felt strong and buoyant, so I went out a little hard too early. But then the fact that I haven't done any speed work in two months caught up with me and I was only able to do six of the ten reps. (This always happens after a break; I'm zealous to run hard, so I go out a little hot and end up burning out before the workout is over. I guess I still need to learn that lesson.)

But I jogged home and felt good about finally getting some solid miles in. I'll have to do this workout again next week, but go out a little more conservatively on the first few and wait to really ratchet down the speed until the end.