Monday Bacon: Back vs. Up

I had a lot of helpers at Saturday’s Shamrock Games when it came time to throwing the Sheaf. One competitor quickly gave me the run down on terms such as purchase and block. She was incredibly helpful. Another friend I met last year loaned me his fork and gave me a few quick tips before running outside to his caber event. I was lucky enough to meet Jason Clevenger, a fork maker, and ask him for quick advice before HE went off to his first event. 

The most common advice was to just watch the other ladies throw. Awesome. But I was up first. Crap. After my initial throw, advice came from every direction. Every. Direction. Ever been coached by about 12 people in one event? It’s a bit much. Now I know people had good intentions and I am appreciative, but each person was telling me two or three different things. My head felt like it was spinning something like this…

Weird spinning

The most common piece of advice I got was to bring the fork all the way back before I tossed the sheaf. The problem was that my little bale of straw kept hooking behind me. Again, I was told to bring the sheaf back and again, I’d hook it. A few helpers were getting a little frustrated that I wasn’t following instructions and I was getting frustrated that my sheaf was hooking. Obviously I’m doing something wrong, but what was it?? After I was done, my friend Rick was back from the Caber toss and introduced me to a wonderful man named Merl Lawless. He gave me a three minute coaching session and fixed the “back” for the fork to “up.” Ohhhhhhhhhh. NOW I get it.

Not Back

See, when people said to bring my right hand back…they actually meant bring it all the way up. That would produce a straight line toss instead of my arc. And there ya go. I got a few other tips and now am very excited to work this event out. But I’ll make sure to ask for more clear advice in the future. If someone says “back,” I’ll make sure to make them show me so we’re talking about the same thing. Cuz for me, this is up…

Up

I understand up…I just need to know we’re on the same page.

Again, I do appreciate everyone’s help. The greatest single advice I got on this event was from fellow competitor Dawn. She said, “Just go throw it.” She picked up on my being a tad overwhelmed and stepped in with reason. I appreciate Dawn.

The day was tons of fun. There was a nice sized group of women from all walks of life. I was able to stick to my plan even though there were a few times I’d get sidetracked with my competitive side.  But again, small steps of improvement over the course of 5-6 competitions is what I want to do for overall gain for the year.

After struggling in the sheaf and not picking the caber, I was able to hit PR’s in lots of my throws and move up to a final position of 3rd place. I was very surprised and delighted when I was given my first Highland Games prize, an awesome sword that I’ve already sworn off limits to the Oz man. Heh.

Strive for excellence, exceed yourself, love your friend, speak the truth, practice fidelity and honor your father and mother. These principle will help you to master yourself, make you strong, give you hope and put you on the path to greatness.

Joe Weider

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Friday Jams

We leave later today for Springfield, Illinois for my first Highlander of the year. As is usually the case before competition, I’m a bit nervous. It’s always better to just get started. The Piano Guys help.

As I’m writing this, the forecast for the day is 45 degrees with a chance of rain. Awesome. Cold and wet… again. Most of the day will be in a slightly enclosed coliseum, with a couple of the throws happening outside.

I’ll turn 46 on competition day. I’m pretty happy about that. Happy about growing older? Yup. Growing older is always better than the alternative. I can honestly say that in my youth, it wouldn’t have occurred to me that I’d be throwing in a Highland Games on my 46th birthday with my Pro Strongman and one of my children. I’m a pretty lucky girl…ah, lucky OLDER girl. Hee.

Enjoy the weekend.

The afternoon knows what the morning never suspected.

Robert Frost

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The Finn’s

It would be negligent to not mention the locals we encountered during our Suomi visit. The first Finn we met sat between us (I like the window, Bigg likes the aisle) on the plane ride from Helsinki to Kuusamo. He talked a bit about Finland in between some work stuff. When he mentioned that one of the remarkable things about Finland is all of the lakes I thought, ‘dude, I’m from Minnesota. Land of 10,000 lakes YO!’ and I had just finished my thought when he said they have over 100,000 lakes. Oh. You win.

We had dinner that evening with Ilkka (2 kisses), competitor Tomi Lota with part of his family, and Petri. Petri is one of the workers for the event and Bigg happened to have a picture of Petri and his boy up on the facebook earlier. When I told him at dinner his son is cute, he said, “Yes. Like me” with a big smile. So Finn’s are sassy too. Good to know. Most of the conversation was in the local language and I just tried to follow along. I understood part of it. ‘Ok; Highland Games; Mya (Tomi’s wife.)’ That’s it. So clearly I pick it up pretty quick.

The next day, activity started picking up. I met Sari, a woman Matt has talked about from past Iceman’s. She is wonderful. With a full, rich voice, she yelled across the road “American Matt!”  

As is most often the case at these types of competitions, the support staff are some of the most important people on the field. The cool things about the Finnish though is that when they’re setting up; cheering the Strongman to keep moving; or whatever they need to do to be helpful; they’re yelling in Finnish.

I later told Topi (above) that I loved how in every event, I saw him yelling encouragement to all the competitors. He told me that’s his job, to do anything he can to help. So awesome. Also being helpful is our “Iz goood” friend, Mikko, who caught me before Matt went on the Ice Wheel and said he gave him very important advice for the event. I say, “Ya? What’s that?” He say, “Don’t go too fast or you’ll get dizzy.” So Finn’s are a bit dorky too. Hee.

I have to say a word about Finnish competitor Jarno Kirsela. Before the truck pull, the Strongman were told that they couldn’t use their spikes because it would be too easy. If they had track shoes with spikes, they could wear those but who in the world would think to bring track shoes with spikes? Jarno, that’s who. After he competed, Ilkka yelled at him to get them off and give them to Matt. And he did. Matt came out to truck pull telling Marcel that the shoes were 3 sizes too small…and he had a great event. I talked to Jarno a little during the other pulls and told him how nice he was to share his shoes and give others an advantage in the pull. He just smiled and said, “Ya Sure because boots don’t work.” That’s Finnish sportsmanship.

I feel very fortunate to have met, and watched these wonderful people in action. It was a treat and they’ll always have a soft spot in my heart.

OH! They also know how to post-party. Big time. In fact, some silly boy who was a bit bigger than the other Euro skinny jeans wearing crowd decided to mess with Jarno. I only saw the after affects of his putting on his coat with a bloody nose. I guess he grabbed the back of Jarno’s shirt while he was walking by and was quickly headbutted in the face. Problem solved. Finn style.

Photo: Thumbs up!

When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro.

Hunter S. Thompson

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3 Kisses

Whenever I travel, I want to embrace the locals. To go somewhere new and not take in the culture is a travel sin and the gods know I do enough of that already.

We arrived in Helsinki Wednesday afternoon and walked to the mall for some lunch. When we asked if we should Taxi over, the front desk clerk looked as if we just grew a head. We’re in Scandihoovia, you walk.

We ate dinner later at the hotel and again, did as the locals do. We ate Reindeer and fish.

I quickly noticed that smoking hadn’t gone out of style yet in Europe and told Bigg that I’ll probably smoke while there. Cuz it’s local. I was lucky enough to find a fellow English speaker in Laurence Shalaei’s girl, Liz. Liz is my new English BFF. Honestly, she’s quite awesome and the two of them remind me of my Bigg guy and me.

Anyways, Liz rolls her own fags and after she heard me joking about wanting to smoke, she rolled me some throughout the day and there ya go.

Photo: When in Rome!!!!

The only deal was that every time I smoked, she had to take a hit of my Korskenkorva. As Liz said, ‘we’ll each bring something to this.’ Heh. I smoked enough that by the end of the evening, she started rolling one up and I said, “I’ll share.” My smoking is definitely behind me. But it was very fun to be local.

My first taste of Finnish beer was in Helsinki and reminded me of a combination of Miller Light, Budweiser, and Milwaukee’s Best. In other words, yuck. But I’m in Finland, so I’ll drink it. Karhu is the most popular beer in Finland. Huh. We’ve brought home two Karhu glasses (the Bear logo is pretty cool) and I enjoyed a Black Iron in my Karhu glass. Iz goood.

finKarhu

The first Finnlander I met was Ilkka, one of the Champions League developers and promoters. I went to shake his hand, leaned in for a cheek kiss and started backing away when he went for the other side. Two kisses? Hokay. I thought I’d be ready for the next introduction with two kisses. Later, when I met the other half of Champions League, I went for two kisses with Marcel when HE went for THREE kisses. I was confused enough to ask about it and he told me Europeans do 3 kisses. Three kisses it is, I’ll be ready next time.

Photo

Fucking Americans.

Most Europeans.

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