Notes from a Captain: On Getting through Mono

I'm writing from the lovely Pine View Motel in Virginia, Minnesota, as the StOLAF team gets ready for their second race of the weekend at the Scholastica Invite. Everyone fights through sickness and training at some point in their lives, and sometimes you just need a little motivation to be patient. Hopefully this blog post acts as a tool for getting through the hard days.

Being diagnosed with mononucleosis the week before the racing season started was absolutely devastating.  No one plans on getting sick, especially with something that will take you out of the season we train literally hundreds of hours a year for.  Any elite athlete can tell you that when you do everything right; sacrifice social plans on weekends for getting to bed on time (college students, you know how hard this can be), wake up for early morning strength workouts, balance a healthy diet, and manage your schedule so you have time for 3 hours of practice every day, things that get in your way become extremely frustrating.  Sickness is one of them. 

I came back from a week of training at West Yellowstone in high spirits and great fitness. I decided to treat the week as a training week and scratched the races, which were held up on the plateau at higher elevation. I was rested, healthy, and happy.  A week later, after getting back to school and being unexpectedly hit with a lot of stress and little sleep, I just felt sluggish.  Training was slow, my muscles were taking longer to recover, and my resting heart rate was higher. I raced a time trial and within the next two days had fallen into full blown sickness. At first I thought it was a virus. It's flu season at college, so I figured it would pass. But when I felt worse every day, I realized that might not be the case. I went to the doctors', they did tests, and I found out I had mononucleosis. Imagine being hit by a semi and then run over with a steamroller. That's mono. 

The first week held a lot of tears, denial, anger, and questioning. Wondering where I went wrong, what I did to deserve this, watching everything I had worked for this summer/fall seemingly slip between my fingers. Realizing I couldn't train at all for at least 4 weeks. Staying away from the ski trails was simple at first- I was so exhausted that the last thing I wanted to do was go out in the cold. After surviving finals (miserable), I learned to knit scarves like a madwoman, read lots of books, enjoyed time spent with family, and taught myself to sleep in. I watched almost every movie on Netflix, flew through season after season of Gossip Girl, and slept. And slept and slept. But after a few weeks, as I slowly felt better, I started to go stir crazy not being able to train. 

I think what makes nordic skiing such a difficult sport is that you have to want to train. If you don't have a strong desire to train and improve, getting your butt out to the roads or trails is incredibly hard. Because of this, we skiers have a driven nature to work out. On our off days we go for walks or jogs just to get moving and prevent boredom. We can mentally handle three workouts a day and we thrive on sore muscles and exhaustion. And just like any force of nature, when something prevents us from doing what we are innately programmed to do, frustration quickly sets in. Which I learned after about 3 weeks of not working out. 

Watching my teammates head to Senior Nationals was hard, but I knew it was smart to stay behind. If having mono has taught me anything, it's patience. When you're sick, the more time you spend waiting and recovering, the easier the comeback is. I wanted to get rid of mono and fast. So because I couldn't train hard, I threw myself into recovering and focusing on the team. I started skiing half an hour workouts keeping my heart rate below 130 (aka, walking) and drank more Airborne than I thought humanly possible. Tom did some research and told me that when my fever and sore throat ebbed, I could gradually increase training and add strength workouts to the mix. By 6 weeks into mono, I was skiing up to 1.25 hours daily and was adding sprints and L3 into workouts. At 7, I did my first L4 intervals, and worked on heart rate recovery between sets. 

This weekend marks my 8th week of mononucleosis and my first race back (St. Scholastica Invitational). I went into the race (a 5k classic) with no expectations and no goals other than to finish and see what I can do. There were no expectations, no pressures, and no reasons to worry. I went out conservative and tried to ski as consistent as possible, hammering the uphills and using the rolling flats/downhills to force air into my lungs, relax and recover. I was so excited just to race again that I wanted to shout at everyone on the sidelines "LOOK! I'M RACING!" 8 weeks of competitive energy was finally released, and it felt awesome. 

I finished in 8th place, a complete surprise, and I couldn't be happier. It's proof that patience pays off. I could have said 'screw it' and thrown away the rest of my season when I realized that I wasn't going to be able to race until midway through, but instead I focused on chasing what truly matters; the reason we train like maniacs and sacrifice so much of our lives: the ability to get out there and race.

As far as the rest of the season goes, I'm headed into the next few weekends with the same attitude I had today. I'm going to work on skiing smart with confidence and using the technique I worked on all summer with F.A.S.T. to perfect my racing. Racing consistent is more important to me than points or results at this point. Besides, I'm just plain excited and happy to be racing again, because it's part of who I am and what I do. I learned not to take health for granted. You can do everything right, but sometimes, "sh** happens". 

So, if you ever get mono and need some advice, come talk to me. I'll teach you how to knit. It's great, I promise.  

- Paige Schember