Great Teammates are Worth Admiring (especially in comparison)


Lately, I've given several examples of what I don't like to see when I come to the Oval, and in my last post I even made a list of what not do do if you want to avoid getting written up on The Protocol. Now, who wants to see some real-life examples of GOOD behavior, for a change?

Two of my favorite American teammates are Jen Rodriguez and K.C. Boutiette. Jen and K.C. are the kind of teammates that anyone would want to have, because they really love the sport and have enough confidence in their own ability that they are not afraid to help the people on the team who are coming up.

A couple of seasons ago, when I was training with the National Team, I sold my old road bike for $50 at a bike swap and was unable to find a reasonably priced replacement. When Jen found out I had no bike to use for training, she let me borrow her spare bike - a really nice Trek OCLV - for the entire training season.

At the World Cup final in Heerenveen this February, one of our teammates hadn't been too happy with her races, and Jen said to her, "Why don't you skate behind me and K.C. in Inzell next week? We'll help you." I thought that was so nice of her.

It's pretty amazing to note how much K.C. has done for his fellow skaters as well. It was K.C. who arranged the deal with DSB and Orbea that got road bikes for the entire US National Team. Once, he even arranged a sponsorship for a young Belarussian skater, enabling him to continue training at the Utah Olympic Oval.

K.C. seems to realize that life is hardest for the skater who is just on the verge of making a major breakthrough. He has also proven that it's not too much of an imposition for him to fire off a quick email or phone call to one of his sponsors, which, in many cases, is all it takes to get the ball rolling on a deal that could really help someone.

There hasn't yet been any Olympic glory for K.C. Boutiette, but I can't think of any other skater who has done more for this sport in recent years than he has. K.C. was the pioneer of "inline to ice," breaking into a sport that was pretty reluctant to accept him at first. I believe he deserves a great deal of credit for paving the way for all of the ice speedskating champions who had started their careers on inlines.

K.C. and Jen seem to have learned one of the most important things in staying on top of the world of speedskating: That other skaters will come and go, but there is no need to try to keep the next generation down in order to succeed. Those who think otherwise may be dismayed to learn that the next generation will come up anyway, and some of them might even remember how they were treated by the ones who came first.

So, thank you, K.C. and Jen, for being The Protocol's ultimate examples of How to Be a Good Teammate. I wish you both all the best in this upcoming season.

The Protocol Code of Conduct


"There she goes with her insults again. I wonder who it's gonna be next?"

Well, it's time to stop wondering; time to stop living in fear! I'm going to tell you exactly what you need to do in order to avoid being written up on The Protocol!

Didn't I say not too long ago that I was ready to start writing about my journey to Torino? Maybe I'd really like to write about something positive and inspirational for a change. But has it occurred to anyone that maybe this is My Journey Towards Torino?

Can I help it if I'm at my best when I'm writing satire? Can I help it if this sport continues to feed me such great material? Please! Stop giving me new material! Sometimes I almost want to shout, "Cease and desist!"

I'm sure some might accuse me of living in the past and not being able to get over the things that happened to me some time ago. Sorry to disappoint you, but this is not exactly what is on my mind on a daily basis. A much more accurate representation of how I really feel is this: It's much more about showing up at the Oval and, practically on a daily basis, seeing or hearing something that makes me say, "Are you f---ing kidding me?"

The worst thing for me is that despite all of the corruption I've witnessed in this sport, I have been unable to desensitize myself to it; meaning that every fresh example of it still socks me like a punch to the stomach. No matter how many times I see it, I can barely bring myself to expect it, much less to accept it.

Maybe I should just make peace with the fact that this isn't a world where one should rigorously adhere to some standards of morality. It's funny - I can take the pain of training and deal with the frustration of the inevitable, occasional poor results, but it is crap like this that makes the 18-hour retroviral mutagenesis assays of my grad school days look really appealing.

Really, I had thought that all of the actions for which I have criticized people were "common sense no-no's". However, it appears that I need to spell out in very clear, simple terms what people should do in order to avoid ending up on the Dark Side of The Protocol. I just want to make sure that, from now on, nobody gets offended without knowing WHY they have been offended!

So, here it is: The Protocol Code of Conduct. Or, if you prefer, "The Protocol for Not Ending Up on The Protocol."

1. Behave in an ethical manner.

2. Don't discriminate.

3. Don't act like a prima donna who holds his/her status over everyone's head.

4. Don't abuse your authority.

5. Don't be the donor or the recipient of undeserved favors. (No, wait. Let me make it easier for you: PLEASE DON'T MAKE YOUR FAVORITISM SO BLATANTLY OBVIOUS.)

6. Apply rules in the same way to everyone, with no exceptions.

7. Don't misrepresent the public image of yourself as an athlete, or of your organization.

These guidelines are very simple. These guidelines are very reasonable, logical, and consistent; everyone I've bashed thus far has been in violation of one or more of these principles! If I see you violating them, then there is a chance you might find yourself written up on The Protocol. If I see you violating them, then I reserve the right to hate your guts, if I should choose to do so.

Remember: This is not a Code of Conduct that you will be forced to sign. However, ignorance of the Code will not excuse anyone from the consequences of breaching it.

Take heart! Adhering to this Code can be done. There are plenty of people in the speedskating community who have yet to run afoul of The Protocol, and judging from their character, it is doubtful that they ever will. On the other hand, isn't it sad how many of the other sort I have encountered along the way? (Boo-hoo-hooo!!!)


You might ask yourself, "Where did she learn how to be such a smartass?" Suffice it to say, I learned from the best. Admit it - when I'm not skewering YOU, then you think I'm funny. If you are reading this, consider yourself warned! I'm not going away. I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and, gosh darn it, people like me!

Antisocial Behavior: Week 3 of a Hard Training Cycle Makes it Hard to Live


Though I managed to handle all of the training successfully and finished all of the workouts throughout the past three hard weeks, several signs point to the definite need for a rest week. First of all, over the last week, all my food started to taste like cardboard and did not want to digest properly. I had to force myself to eat, knowing that the food was necessary fuel for my training. Secondly, any kind of social interaction became excruciatingly painful! If I were to ask myself, "What do I want to do for fun right now?" the answer would be, "I want to lock myself in my room, lay on the bed staring at the ceiling with 'Gotta Get Away' on Repeat 1 on my CD player."

Last Saturday really finished off Training Week 2 in a major way. My alarm went off at 4:15 AM, so that I could get ready for the 5K inline race in Draper. I finished the race in 4th place, behind three guys who had taken the previous day off from training. My legs (and a certain part of my anatomy which the Japanese call, "oshiti") were blowing up, on the other hand, because I had done nearly 3 hours of jumps and a weight program the day before.

After the race, I rode my bike up Big Cottonwood Canyon, finished that ride around noon, and raced home to get ready for the Warped Tour - a punk rock festival-style show that was taking place at the Utah State Fair Park. When I arrived home to get cleaned up, I found that my former West Michigan teammate Chris Weaver had gotten into town and was looking for a place to stay. Chris had just escaped from the cruel tutelage of "Kim Jong Il of Marquette," and he was looking forward to training with the FAST Program instead. I offered him the last available room in my house. "Go ahead and move in," I said, as I ran out the door wearing a wife-beater shirt, combat boots, and a new pair of bondage pants.

On the way to the Warped Tour I picked up my friend Anna and her 16-year-old niece, KiElys (our requisite teenaged excuse for going to Warped Tour, and a great kid besides!) We arrived at the State Fair Park a little after 2 PM, and spent the next 6 hours baking in the triple-digit heat and choking in the dust, but having a great time anyway.

As far as the bands went, we excitedly discovered the Horrorpops, were rather ambivalent about Fallout Boy, enjoyed Billy Idol, and, finally, hurried across the fairgrounds to see the Offspring, where I handed off my water bottle and shoved my way to the front of the mosh pit. I managed to get a pretty good view for about 2 songs (and suffered greatly for it!) before climbing on top of the crowd and getting tossed over the barrier.

The next day, Anna invited me to her mom's birthday party, which was being held at a new buffet-style restaurant that had been carved out of the old 49th Street Galleria roller rink. It was kind of creepy going in there, because I had once skated an indoor inline training session there, back in 1995. It's funny - several ice speedskaters admit to doing JUST ONE indoor inline practice! All I remember is that, after the practice, some little kid dropped his helmet, and when it started rolling away, I stopped it for him. Then, the little thug punched me in the head!

After dinner, we played the free round of mini-golf that came with our meal. Surprisingly, I played well. "Gotta get ready for those charity golf tournaments for when I win the gold," I joked, thinking about Derek Parra practicing his swing.

Anna asked me if anyone had ever invited me to play a charity golf tournament.

"Who, me? Yeah, right! Putt for the Cure!"

"OK," she went on. "Has anyone ever asked you to carry their bag?"

(No respect, I tell you! No respect!!!)

As the third hard week of training progressed, I was surprised by my ability to handle the workload, considering how I felt; I was walking around with a constant sick feeling in my stomach, and, outside of practice, my level of activity was extremely low. Was it the heat? Was it dehydration? (Ha-ha-ha! Is the fluid-balance joke on me, after all?) Seriously, though, fluid balance is important, but here in the desert, it's more about proper hydration throughout the WHOLE day, not just during one single training session.

By Wednesday, I was desperate to cool off and anxious to occupy my hands with some useful but not too exhausting activity, so I went to the Oval's skate rental shop to assemble some of the new speedskates that had arrived. Down there in the "skate rental cave," I managed to make some money, maintain my status as an Oval employee, stay cool, and hide from the world.

As the final week of hard training wore on, Friday's weight workout approached. At Monday's weight session, my teammate Andrew and I had had the Oval's weight room to ourselves. I had brought some of my CD's along, and by the end of the workout, I had totally sold Andrew on the Offspring's greatest hits. He said, "You're spreading the gospel according to Dexter!"

On Friday I had hoped to continue Andrew's punk rock education, but it was not to be. The weight room was full of FAST Team members, and they had monopolized the stereo system with a mix of early-'90's hip-hop. With an inward groan, I dug out my MP3 player and stuck the headphones in my ears.

Things were actually going along just fine until that *(insert gratuitous insult relating to one of the FAST Team Members)*, in an obvious attempt to ingratiate himself with the great Derek Parra, cranked up the volume on the weight room stereo, subjecting us all to roller-disco favorites such as "Bust a Move" and "Ice Ice Baby."

I didn't say a word as I loaded up the leg press with just over 4 times my body weight, turned up my own MP3 player, and pushed that leg press to the tune of "All I Want" until my face turned as red as the rubber mats on the floor.

Finally, after patiently dealing with more than an hour of hip-hop, I decided it was time to make FAST share the stereo. I waited for the then-playing TLC song to end, then popped open the 5-CD changer to find the following discs inside: Hip-Hop Mix #1, #2, #3, #4, #5. What the hell??? Did they really think we were going to listen to that crap the whole, entire time? "OK, guys," I thought, "You deserve it. Let's see how you like System of a Down."

Not twenty seconds into B.Y.O.B. (which happens to be in the rotation on at least one local radio station), Derek comes SPRINTING over to the stereo to push Stop. "I'm not listening to that!" he yelled. "It's messing up my workout!"

"Come on, Derek," I protested. "You can let me play JUST ONE song."

In the end, Bart made him let me play "just one song." And so it was, that after over an hour of hip-hop, we got 3 minutes of System of a Down. FAST Trainer Harry commented, "These guys are so good! How many albums do they have out?" FAST skater Parker said, "I love this song! It's on my iPod." And Derek Parra went right on throwing a fit.

I mean, sure, Derek may have been a roller rink DJ in another life, but times are changing. Hey, even I thought "Ice Ice Baby" was a pretty cool song when I was 13 years old! I know Derek is reluctant to give up control of the weight room stereo, but, after all, he doesn't own the place (and SOMEBODY should make it clear to him that he doesn't !) And, after all, these are the days when roller rinks are being converted to All-U-Can-Eat buffets!

On Friday night, realizing that it might do me some good to try to have some fun, I forced myself to go to a Russian party with Boris. At our dinner table, we met a doctor from Uzbekistan - an otolaryngologist who is doing research at the U of Utah on the regeneration of vocal fold cells. How fascinating! His work is still in the tissue culture phase.

As the topic of conversation changed, my mind began to wander back to my days as a graduate student, and my inexplicable failures at tissue culture. For some reason, I had an unbelievably "brown thumb" at tissue culture! One of my bosses once said, "Does this always happen to you when you do tissue culture? I've never seen anything like that before." (Oh, you mean those surly little clumps of HT-1080 cells, floating around and practically glaring up at you through the microscope?)

Aimlessly, I wondered what would happen if I were assigned to maintain a culture of vocal fold cells. Trying not to burst out laughing, I concluded that after a few passages, they would probably all begin to sound like Scott Stapp of (the former) Creed!

"HURRRRRRRRRRRR-dy HURRRRRRRRRRRRRR-dy HURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!"

Imagine that. We could implant some random guy with my Scott Stapp vocal fold cells and have a pseudo-Creed reunion, just in time for the 1500 meter victory ceremony in Torino! I can see the headlines now:

"Parra's Repeat Performance Prompts Creed Reunion; Women's Champ Rodansky Flings Herself Into the Torch."

Steal This Protocol


To my Norwegian friends and all others who have been accused of misappropriating US Speedskating's intellectual property: Here is a little present from the Brain Trust itself.

I found this paper on the stretching mats after practice at the Utah Olympic Oval yesterday afternoon, and it wasn't stamped "CONFIDENTIAL," or anything like that, so I thought I'd share it. Here it is, in its entirety, for your entertainment:

US Speedskating Fluid Balance Protocol.

1. Check in training room/locker (downstairs) after your last void (bathroom stop) before warming up!

2. Pretest: Have your nude weight measured (you will not see your weight)

3. Pretest: Have your bottle of fluid weighed (plan on having your fluid ready)

4. Train & drink only out of your own bottle!

5. Communicate if you need to urinate during training or cool down (we will give you a cup to collect urine)

6. Communicate if you need to refill your bottle (we will need to weigh your bottle again)

7. Posttest: Have your nude weight measured (as above)

8. Posttest: Have your bottle of fluid weighed

9. Done!

What will this give you?

Individualized fluid recommendations for intense on-ice training to optimize your hydration status when training indoors!

-------

Oh no. Up until this point, I had been feeling pretty good about what the High 5 Speedskating Team has to offer me. I had been pretty confident about the training I've been doing. But now that I have seen just how advanced US Speedskating's scientific program is, I have become completely demoralized.

If you can't trust your athletes to re-hydrate themselves properly, then you have a serious problem. I don't think that is the case. I think this is a case of, "Look how scientific we can be! See how we have The Best Sports Science in the World?" See how picky we are, and how much money we can throw away on collecting the kind of data that makes a negligible difference, if any?

When I'm out on the ice, I drink just enough to sustain my workout, but not so much that I'm running to the bathroom every 5 minutes. Most other skaters do the same. For the most part, this is self-regulating and a no-brainer.

As long as you're at it, why not do a study on the effect of missing a set of intervals, or starting a set late, due to excessive restroom breaks?

Instead, why not measure some parameters that are more relevant to actual skating performance? Can you tell me the relative importance, in terms of my performance goals, of factors such as aerobic endurance, skating technique, sprint power, and lactic endurance, and how much of my limited time and energy I should spend on each?

Besides, what do I care if I'm a couple of milliliters low on my fluid balance if I just put in 35 hours of work last week in order to support my unreasonable speedskating lifestyle? You want to know why I'm underperforming? That's a major part of the answer. Can you help your athletes meet their basic needs before paying a salary for someone to come in and weigh their urine, or will you just laugh in your skaters' faces when they say they need to feed and house themselves while they're training?

Watch out, world. With cutting-edge science like the Fluid Balance Protocol, the US Team is gonna get you!

Don't you love how often the word "Protocol" comes up in speedskating? I hope every time US Speedskating sees the word "Protocol," they think of me.

The moral of this story? Don't make an enemy of a person who can tell funny stories. Or, at the very least, don't leave your top-secret protocols where I can find them.

Just as I thought it would, our new phase of training has left me with little energy left over for writing. Even my latest vicious jab at USS was quite short, but I had to mention that situation in my previous post since it is important to some of my friends, and the topic is related to some of my other posts.

It has actually been a relief not to feel like I'm carrying around all these ideas for blog posts! Over the past couple of months, I'd wake up in the morning feeling like my head was going to burst from all the things I wanted to write about. By now, I really feel like I have spewed out pretty much all of my bitterness, and I'm ready to take The Protocol in a new direction.

I think I'm finally ready to talk about my journey to Torino; about the progress I'm making in my training; about my new team and how much fun it is to train with them. Of course, I'm sure that instances of injustice will occasionally come up and make their appearance in my writing, but I don't think that needs to be the main focus any more.

The most important thing I realized during the past week of training is that I need to learn where my new physical limitations are, now that I have become stronger. After my year of overtraining, I became slightly cautious, but now I need to start pushing a little bit further and finding out when I'll hit the wall.

Near the end of last week, I felt an unexplainable need to prove to myself that I had some guts. So, on Friday evening, I went to the outdoor pool at the Oquirrh Park Fitness Center and dove (yes, head-first!) off the 10-meter platform for the first time. Then, the next morning, I decided to ride my bike up two canyons instead of the usual one. I did Little Cottonwood in 1 hour 20 minutes, then Big Cottonwood in 1 hour 37, which was only 8 minutes slower than my best time up that canyon.

Fortunately, I came into this week of training with no ill effects from my weekend exploits, and just this morning I was able to handle the anaerobic jumping practice much better than I did last week. It's shaping up to be a good week of training, and Saturday should be really fun: I hope to get the Draper Days 5K inline race and a canyon bike ride out of the way before heading out to the state fairgrounds for the Warped Tour in the afternoon.

Life outside of training was a bit of a distraction last week. To make a long story short, both my house and my dog were leaking! The dog (a very spoiled and needy Alaskan Malamute named Kaya) is now on medication, and the house problem has been fixed (my swamp cooler hose was leaking; the water got into the ducts above the garage and I had a load of wet ceiling and insulation fall right on my head when I tried to let some of the water out!)

If I'm not writing a whole lot in the near future, it may be that I don't have too many ideas. However, if you'd like to see what's up with the High 5 team, I would recommend taking a look at my teammate Andrew Love's blog. Andrew is a great writer, and he even has the capability to post pictures on his blog. He has made several posts with pictures of our team training sessions.

I get to Andrew's blog by going to his website at www.andrewlove.org and then clicking on the link to his blog.

Safety Net of the Chosen Ones:


I really didn't want to talk about why Amy Sannes gets to keep her O-Job with Home Depot, but this situation proves several points I've made about athletes who are US Speedskating's dearest favorites. Three athletes failed to meet the O-Job performance criteria this past season: Sannes, Tim Hoffman, and Chris Callis, but fortunately for Sannes, she had a good buddy inside USS who called the O-Job program on her behalf and made sure they allowed her to keep her O-Job on probation.

Don't get me wrong; Amy Sannes can be a good skater, as evidenced by her performance around 2001-02. But how long has it been since she has even approached her personal best times?

Benefits such as USS stipends, high altitude housing money, and O-jobs should be granted to people who are pushing the limits of their performance, not to someone who uses speedskating as a fun way to stay in shape and travel the world while trying to get a bunch of college credits out of the way and underperforming in international competition.

Correct me if I'm wrong here. Any logical person would say, "I can't believe we invested so much in this skater." USS says, "Hey! Let's make sure she gets MORE!"

This is all I'm going to say on this topic. The next step is for Chris and Tim to request similar intervention from USS on their behalf, and to force USS to face the consequences if they discriminate. I'll be waiting to see what happens.

High 5 Takes the Ice: Now the Real Training Begins


Friday, July 1, was the first official day of ice training on the 400 meter track at the Utah Olympic Oval, where the High 5 team made its on-ice debut at the 3-5 PM session. Most of the team were a bit rusty on the old blades. Some had trouble skating in a pace line. Minor adjustments to blade set-up had to be made.

Though some of my teammates were discouraged by their first day on the ice, I am already seeing some hints that Boris's coaching on dry land has started to take effect. Andrew watched a video of himself and seemed quite excited to see that he was bringing his knees in closer and straighter on the recovery.

I, for one, felt great to be back on the ice. After Boris saw me skate a few laps, he commented, "It looks like you never left." My timing felt a little bit off, but that is to be expected on the first day. Besides, I feel like I'm going to have to adjust to the new power that I have gained!

As I suspected, I am coming into this season much stronger than last year. I began pre-season training on a higher level, and the additional work has really paid off. I am much stronger through my core, and can hold a deeper skating position with less strain because of all the dryland skating drills I have been doing with a weight vest.

As soon as I stepped onto the ice and began building into my warmup laps, I immediately thought, "This is going to be good!" I knocked off 6 laps with 6-stroke straightaways, without too much effort. Overall, the first on-ice practice of this season was very encouraging. I get the feeling that someday, when I'll be staring down through my microscope at those surly little clumps of HT-1080 cells, I'll look back on my 2006 Olympic season as one of those "good times we can't repeat!"

Besides the fact that ice training has begun, this part of the season is important because anaerobic training will begin this month as well. For readers of The Protocol, this can mean only one thing: I will probably become mellow and brain dead!!! Anaerobic training will most likely take up all of my anger and all of my mental concentration, and I wouldn't have it any other way. (I'm sure this comes as a great relief to some...)

And so, I will sign off for tonight, with a "High 5 Salute" to all. Onward and upward!! Here's to the next part of the season.

Bank of America Thinks I'm a Hometown Hopeful!


A couple of days ago, when I went to my mailbox, I saw that I had received something from Bank of America. "It's probably junk mail," I thought at first, "They want me to get a credit card."

But then I opened it, and saw that this particular mailing had something to do with their sponsorship of the Olympics and their apparent belief that I was one of those who had a realistic shot at making it to the Games: "The Bank of America Hometown Hopefuls Program honors you and the people who helped get you there."

You see, Bank of America is setting up a Hometown Hopefuls Family Center in Torino, and they want us Hopefuls to send in the names of four people who will come to Torino to cheer us on if we make the team. These lucky friends and family members will then be able to partake of "a generous supply of complimentary food and drinks (including lunch and dinner), wide-screen TVs with closed-circuit coverage of multiple Olympic competitions, an Internet cafe, one free event ticket and more."

Thank you, Bank of America, for sending me my first map of Torino, because we all know that USS would prefer that I end up on the bus that goes out to the ski jumps. And thanks for considering me as one of your Hometown Hopefuls.

My speedskating baggage had been like a latent viral infection, until one little triggering event activated a cascade of raging catharsis.


During the early years of my comeback, I wasn't sure how to deal with my issues in the past, from being blackballed, to living through the Bid Scandal, to my self-destructive college years. Even by the time I had been through the Overtraining Experiment, I still kept everything inside and merely seethed internally. Eventually, it even became difficult to see certain people at the Oval when I came there to practice, but I still tried to convince myself that focusing on my training and trying to stay positive would be enough to get me through.

In the world of speedskating, people try to tell you that you must maintain a positive attitude at all cost, even if it means pretending that everything is OK, when it really is not. This did not work for me. During my years of "cease-fire" with US Speedskating, I felt slightly diseased, as if I were a cell carrying a lingering, latent viral infection. It was like I was not functioning at 100%, but at the same time, my immune system was not able to recognize and eliminate the invader.

Then, out of the blue, at the 2005 World Sprint Championships, came the proclamation from USS President Andy Gabel: "Nobody cares about Eva Rodansky!" Now, we can argue until we're blue in the face about whether he really said it or not, but all we have to deny it is the word of the two passengers he had in the back seat of his car (who were probably talking to each other at the time).

You may not believe it, but this statement was my salvation. Though I did not know it at the time, this was exactly what I had been waiting for. Strike 3, you're out: Blackball, Overtraining Experiment, "Nobody cares." All of a sudden, after years of hiding itself and my own attempts to bury it, the viral antigen had popped out onto the surface of the cell, and my immune system said, "A-ha!! There it is. DESTROY IT."

Surprisingly, rather than hurting my career, the Gabel comment and my reaction to it has been cathartic. I am no longer holding it all inside. I am no longer this cringing thing that walks around thinking, "They couldn't have done anything wrong. They only want what's best for the athletes! Focus on the positive!" Or worse, trying to convince myself that it is only my perception of their actions that is wrong, not the actions themselves.

Finally, I was free to tell all; from the way my premature, forced "retirement" at age 18 affected subsequent years of my life, to an all-out criticism of their current sponsorship and logo decisions, to some of the favoritism and blackballing that I still see happening to this day.

In doing so, my writing has come to the attention of a variety of people, from future Olympians to former speedskaters who have been screwed over in the past. By talking to people, and via email, I've heard how many former skaters relate to my story because something very similar had happened to them. It is not necessary to think that USS is evil; just know that it is valid to question why so many people who truly love this sport end up marginalized or ostracized.

Andy Gabel's comment, "Nobody cares about Eva Rodansky," gave me instant freedom from my own sense of guilt over my negative feelings towards USS. After all they had done to me, this was the last straw. This insult clearly demonstrated that I owed them no more deference.

I had always wanted to be able to name and describe all of the things I experienced in this sport, so that my path through it, though not necessarily as pleasant as that of the USS favorites, it could at least be as clear and as simple. Playing the political game and being "false friends" with USS for its so-called "support" is like walking on thin ice: You know it's only a matter of time before you fall through, and when you do, they'll turn and walk away.

I know I'm a polarizing person and that a lot of people absolutely hate my guts, but it is better for me to know EXACTLY WHERE the solid ground is. I would much rather have the solid support of true friends and the best wishes of all whom I haven't met yet, but who believe in what I am doing.

The sport of speedskating needed someone who could think logically, wasn't afraid to speak out, and had enough of a chance at the sport to make people want to listen to their story. Metric speedskating does not belong to "Them." I know the definition of metric speedskating better than anyone else, because I beat it into my own head all the time. Metric speedskating is "me against the clock." They cannot stop me, and I am not afraid.

Can't Get My Head Around Tom


Since I've been accused of only posting the negative, I've decided to write about some positive things that come to mind about people I have criticized. Tom Cushman was my coach the year I trained with the USS Allround program, and he was the one who, at the end of that season, admitted to using half our team for the purpose of collecting overtraining data. There are definitely some positive sides to Tom, but they seem to have made things more confusing.

Tom has always been a puzzle to me, because I never believed that he had any bad intentions towards me. I never held the Cushman name against him, despite what his father had done to my skating career years ago. Tom had been nice to me ever since I came back to the sport, when he led some workouts for the Oval Program in early 2001.

When I think about how I decided to train with the National Team in 2003, and what happened as a result, things just don't add up. If Tom believed in my potential as a speedskater, why was he content to use me for the purpose of data collection, rather than helping me to skate faster? On the other hand, if he didn't believe in my potential as a speedskater, why did he actively try to recruit me for his team, both during the 2003 winter world cups, and in the spring, when I hadn't yet decided on a team?

Late in the summer of 2003, when I was feeling the effects of overtraining and could barely push myself to make it through another session, there were a couple of days when I tearfully announced to Tom that I was quitting speedskating. There seemed to be no point in continuing on in a sport when I felt I was unable to progress or even to survive. Real life was calling my name; I was making good money in the lab. Why did Tom convince me to stay? What was the goal of trying to get me to stick around? If he didn't think I could be a good skater, why didn't he just tell me to stop wasting my time?

People who don't seem to know what their objective is can be even more scary than those who are outright trying to destroy you, because they're the ones who catch you off guard. Even though I try, I can't get my head around Tom.

Where Have All the Physiologists Gone?


Now that the ice is on the oval and the anaerobic training phase of the season is set to begin, I'm almost finished ranting about US Speedskating (and by now you should know that by "US Speedskating" I am referring to the USS administration and its policies and decisions, and the culture and philosophy --or lack thereof-- behind these policies and decisions). However, I still have some notes on a few more good posts on related topics, and I'd like to get these out of the way.

We all know by now that I believe that USS discriminates against a variety of different people for a variety of different reasons, and I've given several examples of this. In my last post, I discussed an actual example of USS's discrimination against an athlete who cares about his education. Besides missing out on such a person's contribution as a speedskater, are there any other consequences for USS when they discriminate against such a person?

In reading the Program Director's report from the USS Spring Board Meeting, I saw that the Brain Trust was concerned about where they would find new coaching talent and sports science input. They sincerely hoped that they wouldn't be forced to bring in any foreigners to bring them up to speed. But, if not foreigners, where are they going to find people with expertise in these areas?

Of all the Americans out there who have been involved in the sport of speedskating at some time in their lives, how many are now sportsmedicine doctors, exercise physiologists, physiology researchers, power skating coaches, physical therapists, nutritionists, physical education teachers, etc. etc.? Where are all these people now?

These former speedskaters are all people who could have made a meaningful contribution to the sport. Why don't they? Of course, it is possible for most of them to make more money elsewhere. But, for too many, the disturbing truth is simply that their experience in speedskating was an episode in their lives that they want to forget, because it left such a bad taste in their mouth.

Take me, for instance. When I was a grad student at City of Hope, I was doing my thesis work on oxidative damage to retroviral nucleic acids. When I finish with my speedskating career, I could potentially channel my experience in this area towards studying oxidative damage to DNA caused by intense speedskating training. Do you think that US Speedskating has given me any sort of incentive to contribute the best use of my mind to their organization?

If I were to "give back" to US Speedskating according to what it has given to me as an athlete, it would not be an expression of loving gratitude. Rather, it would be more on the order of sabotage! The greatest favor I could do them would be to stay away. I doubt I could bring myself to do them any good.

I'll be an athlete at one level or another until the day when I can no longer move my body, but any scientific contributions I may eventually make will be in biomedical research, not in the area of speedskating physiology, and certainly not for the benefit of US Speedskating. I know of several people who posess knowledge that could have been valuable to USS who feel the same way. This is how they've treated their intellectual talent pool. So, now let them go search outside the country for coaching and sports science talent, or fall further behind the rest of the world.