I began inline skating passionately because I was reluctant to get scientific about my training. I had been to ice camps and seen the tracks and the stopwatches and the log books . . . as well as the coaching and parental pressure and even skaters succumbing to the temptation of enhancing their performance unnaturally. In spite of being encouraged mightily to try and skate down the Olympic path, I chose instead the freedom of inline skating, where I could lace up my skates when I wanted and go where I wanted. On my own terms.
That's not to say I didn't continue to draw on ice skaters for information and inspiration. I went to Holland and learned how to skate long track with marathon skaters.I participated in every tour and every race on every frozen lake I could find. I also learned about interval training in order to get faster. I followed behind team skaters and club skaters during their workouts and learned that pushing my body to go faster in training -- instead of just going out and having fun every time -- made me capable of going faster in the summer races.
The track was a perfect controlled environment for interval training. The interval which always worked best for me was a 200 meter interval, which lasted about 20 seconds. We would wind it up in the turn, sprint down the straightaway, and burn around the turn at top speed, standing up only after the first straightaway push with hearts pounding and heavy arms.
What the Dutch do during their rest period is unique. Rather than just put their hand on their knees and coast with heads down, they actually stick to the golden rule of skating and maintain their balance on one skate or the other no matter how tired they are. Even going slowly around the turn, they try to maintain some semblance of technique, just like you would have to do in a real race. Our rest period was about 40 seconds, or double the work period.
We did this six, eight, or even 10 times, before skating a 20 minute warm-down. With the 20 minute warm-up, the total workout lasted about an hour.
To summarise and expand:
I've never been as scientific about my approach as many other skaters -- I don't want to take too much of the fun out of it.
However, sometimes training like the pros is best.
I find if I do a max effort, even if it's 20 or 30 seconds, I absolutely need at least double the rest time otherwise the quality of the next one suffers too much. It's nearly impossible to negative split a workout but I try to keep the distance I travel each time segment consistent.
For a race like the Northshore, it's important to recover well in between bouts so every interval is crisp and fast.
For some races I focus on, like NYC or A to A, the pure speed of my acceleration isn't as important as being able to accelerate more times with consistent high pace than anybody else. The hope is that at some point the others will give up or be unable to follow.
Many times I will go for a longer road skate and do random intervals, which simulate a real race more. If a faster vehicle goes by me . . . usually a food cart, a farm vehicle, or a truck that's laden down with something, I will jump and try to suck up into its draft. Thailand is perfect for this. Most times I will fail and give up after 20 seconds or so, but at least I've given it 100 percent and keep skating until the next opportunity arises.
Sometimes I do catch the draft and then am cruising along at faster than race pace, barely hanging on and hoping I can recover while skating. I call that a ticket to ride!
Which reminds something Dianne Holum and John Diemont taught me, how to go harder just when you think you're going to die: do a killer off-skate interval with a twist. Do a maximum effort for 30 seconds with plyometric jumping, and then sprint 50 meters with totally dead legs. Muscle memory is the only thing that keeps you up at that point because it feels like you're running on tree stumps, not legs. Feels like a race sometimes. If you ask me, that's the secret sauce to success.
That's not to say I didn't continue to draw on ice skaters for information and inspiration. I went to Holland and learned how to skate long track with marathon skaters.I participated in every tour and every race on every frozen lake I could find. I also learned about interval training in order to get faster. I followed behind team skaters and club skaters during their workouts and learned that pushing my body to go faster in training -- instead of just going out and having fun every time -- made me capable of going faster in the summer races.
The track was a perfect controlled environment for interval training. The interval which always worked best for me was a 200 meter interval, which lasted about 20 seconds. We would wind it up in the turn, sprint down the straightaway, and burn around the turn at top speed, standing up only after the first straightaway push with hearts pounding and heavy arms.
What the Dutch do during their rest period is unique. Rather than just put their hand on their knees and coast with heads down, they actually stick to the golden rule of skating and maintain their balance on one skate or the other no matter how tired they are. Even going slowly around the turn, they try to maintain some semblance of technique, just like you would have to do in a real race. Our rest period was about 40 seconds, or double the work period.
We did this six, eight, or even 10 times, before skating a 20 minute warm-down. With the 20 minute warm-up, the total workout lasted about an hour.
To summarise and expand:
I've never been as scientific about my approach as many other skaters -- I don't want to take too much of the fun out of it.
However, sometimes training like the pros is best.
I find if I do a max effort, even if it's 20 or 30 seconds, I absolutely need at least double the rest time otherwise the quality of the next one suffers too much. It's nearly impossible to negative split a workout but I try to keep the distance I travel each time segment consistent.
For a race like the Northshore, it's important to recover well in between bouts so every interval is crisp and fast.
For some races I focus on, like NYC or A to A, the pure speed of my acceleration isn't as important as being able to accelerate more times with consistent high pace than anybody else. The hope is that at some point the others will give up or be unable to follow.
Many times I will go for a longer road skate and do random intervals, which simulate a real race more. If a faster vehicle goes by me . . . usually a food cart, a farm vehicle, or a truck that's laden down with something, I will jump and try to suck up into its draft. Thailand is perfect for this. Most times I will fail and give up after 20 seconds or so, but at least I've given it 100 percent and keep skating until the next opportunity arises.
Sometimes I do catch the draft and then am cruising along at faster than race pace, barely hanging on and hoping I can recover while skating. I call that a ticket to ride!
Which reminds something Dianne Holum and John Diemont taught me, how to go harder just when you think you're going to die: do a killer off-skate interval with a twist. Do a maximum effort for 30 seconds with plyometric jumping, and then sprint 50 meters with totally dead legs. Muscle memory is the only thing that keeps you up at that point because it feels like you're running on tree stumps, not legs. Feels like a race sometimes. If you ask me, that's the secret sauce to success.