The racing at Cleveland this past weekend was a personal disappointment both because my daughter (and most of my Rochester teammates, for that matter) had a frustrating weekend in the American Cup II and because in the Ohio Invitational, I re-aggravated an injury from Rochester and had to withdraw. To my eye, though, Liz's skating continues to advance, and I think she's just on a plateau for a while. For all that, I've never had a bad time in Cleveland, and this trip was no exception. I've written regularly about the deep pleasure of trying to learn this discipline of speedskating in my late 50s. Imagine the depth of my pleasure, then, at what happened on Saturday, as I was in the heat box getting focused for a 1000 meter heat. A man of about my own age, wearing the bright green skinsuit of the Cleveland Heights team introduced himself as Venty Raghavacktari. He told me that he was skating his very first meet, and that I had been his inspiration!!! Venty told me that he'd watched me skate (a euphemism, perhaps, but a welcome one) at the Ohio Invitational for a couple of years, and watching me try encouraged him to try the sport himself! Venty gave me a sense of pride and pleasure that lasted beyond the ice packs that followed each of my two attempts to race, and survived the drive back to New York as well. He acquitted himself pretty well too, and I can see I am going to have to step up my game to give my newest racing partner a run for his money! We chatted over the two days of the meet, and both of us understand quite clearly how part of this, at our age, is a matter of overcoming our own fears and demons, and part of it is recapturing what ABC's Wide World of Sports used to call "the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat." Welcome, Venty, and thank you for a phenomenal mental boost! Between us maybe we can start of trend! My daughter-in-law was at the meet, and commented that one of the things that impressed her most about our sport is its openness to the youngest rookie (one neophyte of perhaps four started crying at the noise of the starter's pistol, ending his race) to the late to the game starters, like Venty and me. She's right....and I hope we always preserve that openness. It's a strength.
One plus from having an injury early, is that I had more time to really watch the American Cup racers. Some of the impressions are broad brush: Cherise Wilkens skated as well and as strong as I can ever remember seeing her, and that is saying something. That very good skaters lose more often than not, if for no other reason that its hard to have five way ties. And this: if you skate the same track consistently, you will not maximize your success. You can, for example, wait all day for the chance to make an inside pass, but some skaters ride that line so well that the only realistic way to pass is to the outside. For whatever reason, though, a lot of very good skaters appear skittish to try the outside, or to really vary tactics to meet the situation. Watching closely, I noticed several skating each race the same way...and I will bet their best opponents could see that too, and planned accordingly. It's necessary to build a large arsenal of tactics, and to be comfortable enough to use any of them at a given moment of the race, because the race itself is as fluid as the surface we skate on.
A lot of what I love about speedskating is the comraderie, and the Cleveland meet was all about that for me. So thanks to all of the friends I got to spend another weekend with, and thanks to Tom Frank, Dennis Marquard, Dennis Hopper and all of the other Cleveland people who once again presented a smooth, wonderful meet. Cleveland rocks! And thanks too to Diana Harrel of the Chiller club for making me laugh Sunday afternoon, when she told me she'd had to skate day two, because I was ahead of her in the points standing on day one!
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