First a Word
That I skate for a company not readily associated with the skate industry has gained me broad acceptance amongst skaters from coast to coast. I can't tell you enough what a good feeling this is. Nevertheless, there are still times when I feel like an outsider, unwelcome in the competitive click. Sometimes, it's not hard to pick up on the veiled disappointment that registers on the faces of some of the racers when I unexpectedly come into town and crash their races. It's an understandable reaction, because it means one more front runner is competing for the same sized pie. I like big pieces of pie.

"Eddy, So Nice to See You!"
One race where my presence wasn't exactly entirely welcome was at a race that I showed up for on June 11 in New York City. This race was stacked with fast skaters, but no feared faces. I was the big fish in the pond, but worried nonetheless, because I stepped up to the line with a 140 heart rate. Now, normally the excitement attendant to a race, no matter how small, elevates my heart rate considerably, but this was exceptional. I was not well, loaded up on penicillin. Being sick with strep throat on this day -- thankfully not the mutant flesh eating variety.-- forced me to adopt a conservative race strategy. I decided it would be best during the race to hang back and be mellow until the last possible moment.

Not only was this a necessary tactic, but given the unwieldy size of the field, it turned out to be a wise one too. The traffic was hairball, and skaters were dropping like flies. Remy Chait, a standout skater from New York, flipped over one fallen skater and landed on his head. Without his Specialized helmet, which cracked in three places, Remy may never again have caught back up with the pack.

Plugging Along
I chose to maintain a steady pace at the very back of the pack. But the race unfolded like a slinky, telescoping out during surges and then bunching up again when the pace sputtered, so that I alternately found myself at the front or way in back. As the pace ground to a halt, I'd be plugging along at a steady speed and pretty soon be in the lead. Being the "marked man" that I am, this only served to stoke the pace. Pretty soon I'd be at the back of the pack again. On balance, most of what I remember about the race is the feeling of getting passed.

Humungousness
Easily 100 skaters in the lead pack clogged the road for the first 15 kilometers of the 20 kilometer race. Racers stuck to each other like glue until the 110th street hill, which took out the legs from more than half the field. The remainder, 40 or so (an extraordinary number of contenders for the end of a race), hung on for a final run at the finish line. When Joe Franz (Hyper) surreptitiously drifted towards the back of the pack, I asked him if he had done so to bone up for the final sprint. Before I heard his answer, boom, he was off, with me riding on his coattails.


Squeezing out The Last Drops of Lead
Just as I began praying that my tired legs wouldn't freeze up on me, Joe's strength started faltering. I went around him and latched on to Patrick Quinn, who had come up strong on the inside. And down the stretch we came. It turned out to be the perfect lead-out, because with a hundred meters to go, I had only to throw in a few quick hop-step crossovers to get around and by him, then revert to normal straightaway strokes and break the tape. I think some people were bummed out by the final result, especially because there were a few teams that could have ganged up on me much more effectively.

More Forlorn Faces
Another race where the surprised faces of the entrants told all was the "Four on the Fourth" four mile race, July 4, 1994, in the charming seaside community of York, Maine. The course was comprised of a loop that had only right hand turns.

Naturally goofy footed, I profited from the course's right hand turns by crossing over through them and built my lead to 15 seconds by mile 3. I then saw my advantage totally erased when I took a wrong turn and had to skate across a lawn to get back onto the course. When the pack saw my trouble, they all put the hammer down hard. However, to their utter dismay, a half mile down the road and a few right turns later, I was able to regain contact with the leaders and overtake them for good, sprinting uncontested underneath the finish banner.

Stealing Thunder
Our in-line race, which attracted a strong regional field of 75 skaters, was held in conjunction with a running race, whose participants numbered over 300. With awards for the running races not given out until after the conclusion of the skating event, runners were certain to hang out and watch our race. They enthusiastically cheered as skaters screamed around at breakneck speeds on the very course they had just so laboriously run .The best part of the course was the portion which took skaters through the streets of York and along the waterfront, dominated by the world's most photographed lighthouse, Nubble lighthouse.

Co-wink-a-dink (a funny coincidence)
After the race, the officer who had been driving the pace vehicle apologized profusely for having caused any confusion that could have led me astray. I told him not to worry, that I had been working on developing raw power lately by skating on grass and astroturf, so it was all in a day's work. I just had had no idea that that practice would pay off so well so soon.








SIDEBAR-How to Become a Better Crossover Artist

Crossovers, a necessary weapon in every skater's arsenal, were instrumental in helping me to victory in both New York and Maine. In the New York race, crossover steps on the straightaway allowed me to simultaneously navigate around my opponent and accelerate past him. In Maine, crossing over in the right-hand turns --not coasting through them -- allowed me to gain speed and put time on my opponents.

Crossing over has always been a weakness of mine. Compared with the big boys, who have experience skating tight indoor tracks, my crossovers are slothful. Over the years, though, there is a way I've noticeably improved my crossover technique. It's called practice. Practicing crossovers has helped cut my losses and turned me into a more complete skater. Here's how I practice.

Dianne Holum, dedicated speedskating coach and herself a harvester of many Olympic medals, taught me most of what I know about crossing over. In all her crossover drills, both on and off skates, she emphasizes correct body position and a directly lateral push.

The best, and oftentimes most neglected form of crossover practice is done without skates. If you have sneakers and a good imagination, you can do dryland training, which is nothing more than practicing skating motions on land, preferably on a grassy field or astroturf. Find a line and you can emphasize the straight-out-to-the-side pushing component of the crossover stroke. Take crossover steps to one side or the other without either deviating from the line or bobbing up and down.

This is a much more difficult proposition than it sounds, especially if you're not used to balancing your weight completely on one leg at a time. It requires that you really reach over with one leg while fully extending the other. By sitting deeper, you can exaggerate this step-over. That guarantees a good long, sideward push with the leg that's going under. To get us to stay on that line without drifting forward of it, Dianne would tell us to think about having to pop a balloon that's behind us with the heel of the skate that's crossing over.

A turncable, or stretchcord, is a training device which adds resistance to this exercise (you can get it from NZ Manufacturing in Kent, WA). It consists of two waist belts connected by a length of extra heavy duty rubber tubing. Hooked up to two people, one restraining the other, the tubing offers sufficient resistance so that you can get a much harder push and simulate leaning into the turn. Don't overdo it. The stretchcord can be a cruel training tool.

When you finally get your skates on, the best practice for crossover technique may be the turn circle. You can take some string and chalk with you to a parking lot and draw a circle on the ground, then skate around it as long as your legs are willing. Experiment with the size of the circle and the speed at which you go around it.

Here are some things to think about to make you go faster. Think about just one thing every time you go practice, otherwise you'll get crossed-up!

• lean back. if a boat's nose is pointed under water, it won't go fast either.
  
  
• reach into the turn with your hip first, knee second, and skate third. this will help counteract the centrifugal force which wants to pull you out of the turn.
  
  
• keep those shoulders parallel to the ground, and don't let them twist into the turns. if anything, think about opening your torso towards the outside.
  
  
• make your crossover one continuous, fluid motion. each leg should do equal work.
  
  
• body weight must be centered over supporting leg so that no pronation occurs. pronating will slow you down by creating unnecessary friction against the pavement.
  
  
• minimize any hopping, dipping, bobbing, or weaving, because the faster you go the more this extra motion will throw you off -- like what a pottery wheel does to an uncentered lump of clay.