NORT part 2: I got that racing feeling

I remember when I first realised that orienteering was a race. I was 12 years old and on a training weekend in the Lake District organised by Carol McNeil. Most of the exercises over the weekend focused on basic technique rather than speed but something clicked in my brain that the whole point was to do these things FAST. The final exercise of the weekend was a "tour champs" on Torver Back Common and for the first time in my life I raced an orienteering course. I just figured out what I needed to do and got on with doing it. I think I won that race, surprising a few people including myself. I went on to finish 2nd at the Scottish Six Days a few weeks later, my first notable success at a GB level. My orienteering career had begun!

I had a similar epiphany while watching the knockout sprint rounds during NORT. Orienteering is a race. The whole point is to get from the start to the finish as fast as possible. I think I'd forgotten that at the start of that week: I was more concerned about planning ahead, being in control and having a good flow than actually getting anywhere fast. As such I was off the pace in qualifying and missed out on the rough and tumble fun of the knockout stages. As I knocked out a tempo run along the side of the lake that afternoon to release some frustration I resolved that Finland would be different. Finland will be fast.

The next day we made the most of arriving in Turku in good time to get out on the sprint model map. With the luxury of a full two days between races we could run hard then and still have an easy day the next day to recover before the sprint races. And boy-oh-boy did I run hard. I split the model course into three control sections and really attacked them, running flat out and barely hanging onto the navigation. In fact I was often out of control navigation wise. It was reckless orienteering but it was brilliant. I was hurtling down roads, accelerating out of every bend and cutting every corner. This is what racing should feel like! 

I took my newly rediscovered racing spirit into the qualification race on Friday. I was left nothing to chance this time, I ran it as if it was a final. The course was about as British as you get, with a mix of university campus, halls of residence and typical urban terrain. I only lost time on one leg, to the 16th control where I initially planned to cut through the woods to the riverside path, but doubled back to the steps instead. I finished 5th=, tied with Daniel Hubmann: a very satisfying result!

The final was a more difficult course with much more route choice and some controls in tricky locations. I didn't have as good a feeling during the race but I kept pushing all the way and was rewarded with 10th place - my best ever World Cup position, 39 seconds behind Mattias Kyburz. I got caught out by tricks on a couple of controls (7&8) and actually got lucky on 8 where I hadn't checked which side of an uncrossable wall the control was on - I got it wrong but fortunately there were some hidden steps to reduce the cost of this mistake to just ten seconds. 

The best thing about running well in these races was that I *decided* to run well - it wasn't a case of repeating the approach from the earlier races and hoping it would work, it was a conscious change in approach which means it should be repeatable in the future.

The next day was the chasing start long distance finale to the tour. I was completely shattered and could barely do anything more than jog around the forest but I enjoyed the interesting course and it reminded me of the challenges to come at Jukola and our WOC selection races in coming weekends. We travelled back home the following day and while the results at NORT might not have been all I hoped for the I definitely took a lot of learning away and I now have a clear focus for the run in to WOC. 

But first... JUKOLA!!!

Maps with routes can be found in my map store here: 

https://picasaweb.google.com/114816714530239585163/2013OrienteeringMaps?authkey=Gv1sRgCJCU4N3euarMxAE

NORT update: Knocked Out Before the Knock Out

After my moment of madness in the first sprint race things didn't improve much in rounds two and three of the Nordic Tour. I had a very "average" run in the Norwegian middle distance on Sunday then on Tuesday I failed to progress to the knockout stages of the knockout sprint. 

The middle distance was held in the forest surrounding the sprint area at Ammerud. I trained  here a few years ago while staying with Østmarka so I had a good idea about what we were in for: mixed forest, some steep and rocky slopes and a reasonable path network. What I hadn't expected was the torrential downpour (with associated thunder and lightning) in the hour before I started which absolutely waterlogged the terrain, making the rock treacherously slippy, the vegetation very heavy going and the marshes into lakes. 

I thought I ran reasonably well: I had no problems finding controls and I was happy with my route choices. So I was a bit bemused to find I was over four minutes down when I arrived at the finish, and seven minutes behind the eventual winner Carl Godager Kaas. Where did the time go? A bit of splits geeking later confirms my feeling about my run: no major misses or time losses, just generally a bit slow. Thinking back, although I felt like I was running hard I think I was a bit within myself and a bit too much in control. I've heard it said that to race well you need to be on the edge all the way, slowing down just enough to avoid mistakes but generally pushing yourself to the limit all the way. I was nowhere near this style in the middle distance and at this level of competition that costs you badly. 

Map - no route

Map - with route

It was a similar story in round three. At our team meeting the night before I told everyone that I thought we had to treat the qualification like a final as the competition here is so strong. However I don't think I listened to my own advice as I ran my race at a decidedly cruisey pace. I was running fairly hard but not flat out. In the end I missed qualification by 13 seconds. I lost 17 seconds on a short leg in the forest near the end but I feel like I should have had more of a cushion. I know I have the speed and technique to contest for podium positions in races like this so I should have been at least 30 seconds faster - and then a small mistake would have been less critical. 

Map - no route
Map - with route

After punishing myself on a tempo run round the edge of the lake I enjoyed being a spectator and supporter at the finals. The compact arena, big screen and some exciting racing made me forget about the disappointment of the morning and and got me motivated for running fast again. 

After a couple of days off we are racing again tomorrow in hot and sunny Finland. I've remembered what racing should feel like and I'm looking forward to making this one count. 

Sprint Muppetry

It’s funny how thoughts grow. They appear as if from nowhere, a spark in the mayhem of all the other thoughts but some sparks of ideas or concepts or memories are actually seeds which grow and grow until they become all consuming distractions which trump rational argument and prevent you making sensible decisions.

I realise this sounds like someone describing the onset of depression or a similar mental health problem. It’s actually what happened to me during today’s race – and fortunately it wasn’t a depressing thought, but having experienced the way it grew I can see how depression starts.

The first half of the course went reasonably well. I was happy with my routes and while I was feeling a little sluggish and perhaps lacking a little bit of aggression through the terrain I knew I was going OK. Just before the arena I met my 1- and 2- minute men on an in-out leg so I knew I was catching them. At the arena I heard I was in 2^nd, 16s behind Chris Smithard. Great, I thought, the rest of the course is in the housing estate - just like I’m used to. Lets pick up the intensity and close that gap down. 

The next control after the arena was #11, down the edge of some buildings and turn left. As I was running down the buildings I picked my route to the 12^th – carry on past 11 all the way down the road – the straighter route looks fractionally shorter but my route is simpler, so I can really open up the taps. As I’m running down the road I see the Finnish top of my 1-minute man ahead of me. Cool, I’m definitely catching him.

The spark first appears as I turn off the road. “Wouldn’t it be funny if I’d forgotten to punch the 11^th”.  Haha, yes, that would be funny. I carry on towards the 12^th.

Then it grows. I can’t remember punching the 11^th. Can I? I wouldn’t have run right past it, would I?

I look at the map again. I think I ran straight to the road. I’ve done this before – start navigating the next leg before punching the current one. I saw the Finn – I got ahead of myself. I’ve got no way of checking – we’re on screenless EMIT cards. In that 30 seconds from the first spark this negative thought has grown to be 100% certainty that I ran right past 11. I pause for a second. If this was WOC, a one-off race, I’d chance it and carry on but this is the first of five races this week. A DSQ today would really spoil the rest of the series, particularly the chase on the final day.

I turn away from 12 and back to 11. As I get there I become slightly less certain. I know my race is over but I still have to get round the rest of the course. I can’t say I was pushing 100% or really focussing on the best routes. Another spark – in my heart and legs – was gone.

So I traipsed in 67^th, 3:25 behind the best time of Mathias Kyburz and 3:00 behind the outstanding run by Chris Smithard in 4th. I don’t know what I could have done today but I do know I’ve let myself down. Fortunately there are still four races left this week. Today could be just the spark I needed.

Nordic Tour - the Pablo Honey of the O Calender

The Nordic Orienteering Tour is about to start for the fourth and final time. Over the next eight days 130 of the worlds top elite orienteers will race five finals across Scandinavia and like a guilty pleasure I'm looking forward to taking part. 

I've raced one-and-a-half of these jaunts across the northern lands: the full tour in 2010 and the first two stages in 2011. And, like a guilty pleasure, I quite like them. 

I know they are wrong. They've sacrificed orienteering quality for the sake of media exposure. For many teams they are prohibitively expensive and previous editions, split by Jukola, have felt like a sideshow of the main event. They've trialled ill-thought out formats like ungaffled head-to-head sprints and middle-distance-in-the-forest-on-sprint-spec-mapas a qualifier for a sprint final and the best orienteer doesn't always win. And that they effectively killed off the Nordic Orienteering Championships, one of the most prestigious and competitive races on the calendar is unforgivable. 

Everyone has guilty pleasures. My favourite Radiohead album to listen to is debut Pablo Honey rather than the critically acclaimed later ones. I'll happily watch trashy comedies rather than classic "cinema" and I'll feel no guilt about sticking a ready made "Cook" range meal in the oven and enjoying it as if I'd prepared it all myself. That's how I feel about Nordic Tour too. Sure, there are tougher orienteering tests out there and competitions where you spend more time competing than you do queuing at airport security between races. Everyone knows the best orienteer wins Long at WOC not a head-to-head race round a suburb in Sweden. 

But it's fun! This is what being a top level sportsman is all about! Crazy mad adventures round the world, only knowing what country you're in by what day it is and what race you're running by which country you're in. Races with TV cameras and big cash prizes and spectators lining the run in. I know none of my colleagues back home will tune into the NRK or SVT coverage but the fact that I can send them a link to it validates what I do more than any story of adventures in the forest or medal or title I can bring into the office on a Monday morning. 

It's also great training. A month before WOC I can put all my training into practice with 3+ dry run sprint races to see where I'm at and also a couple of jaunts into the forest to see how my improved domestic results rank on the bigger stage. The most nervous I've ever been was before the sprint at NORT 2010: I'd made a lot of sacrifices to get to WOC for the first time that year with no guarantees I would be good enough when I got there. NORT gave me the chance to compare against the best so when I arrived at WOC I could relax and just focus on my own race. 

Later today this years NORT circus rolls into Grorud in Oslo. I'm only feeling a little 
guilty about looking forward to it.