Perfection. Intervals in the Utah High Country

FasterSkierNovember 26, 2003

This story orginally appeared on Zack Simons' website: < Reprinted with permission.

Today was a day for redemption. After an absolute ass kicking this past weekend, the only thing on my mind has been getting back to the same place that I was last season. Today was the first step toward that goal.

Myself, along with ace wingman, Justin Easter, headed for a place high above the Heber and Kamas Valleys in search of ideal ski conditions. Park City has experienced a bit of a heat wave in the past few days and the tracks have deteriorated slightly. While holding strong, they are just a little on the icey side at 8 in the morning.

6:50AM- 4200ft elevation, The high pitched sqeal of my alarm clock pierced the darkness of my bedroom. I scurried out of bed like a frightened farm animal slapping for that godforsaken snooze button. Alas. The sound of silence. After a few minutes of contemplating the meaning of life, I rose. Half asleep and hardly a shadow of my typical self, I stuffed my training bag full of dry clothes to change into after skiing and staggered towards the kitchen.

Commence calorie intake.

A neccessity of every interval workout is a routine. Not just any routine. It has to be the same routine as before a ski race. No surprises. Oatmeal, bananas, coffee. Key ingredient: caffiene. Neccessary.

After breakfast, now bright eyed and bushy tailed, we made way to the garage. Scrape skis. Load skis into car. Scrape ice off windows. Load self into car. Drive car.

8AM- 4300 ft and rising, On the road. Destination: secret training location high in the Utah's Uintah mountains. Over hill and dale we drove, alas reaching our first stop. The gate. This ultra secret training location has a gated entry. Luckily we know the code. Onward ho.

8:30AM- 8500ft. Car in parked position. Exit automobile. Blue skies. Perfect. The temperature holding steady at 20 degrees Farenheit, though rising slightly. Sleazy E surveys the area and applies Rode Violet MG accordingly. Myself, a skater, I frolick my way through a snowy field towards the track, skis in hand, like a gazelle across the Serengetti.


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