Running down hill as it relates to skiing

[karlo]

On both groomers and smooth downhills, I seem to lack the visual cues that trigger my turns, and therefore pick up a lot of unwanted speed.. I try to focus on turning rhythmically, or keeping inside an imaginary corridor.

Me, I'm looking at the mountain, not the trail. One can see the fall line, and where it changes. Ski the mountain, not the trail. The effect is just as apparent running downhill; and, doing so is a great way to develop the skill, not having to worry about skis sliding away

 

[LiquidFeet]

.... about that business of looking at the hill ahead or the trail ahead .... I've been doing some experiments addressing this issue. The model I use to conceptualize what is happening involves the "cone of vision." When we point our eyes ahead, they see clearly what falls into a circle, which is shaped like a cone.

Outside of that cone we still see, but with less clarity of focus. That's our peripheral vision, visualized in this image below from wikipedia. The cone is 3-D, so the peripheral vision is 3-D too, extending down and up as well as out to the runner/skier's left/right.

I've been interested in finding out how far ahead I can look and still place my feet in specific spots - not looking down as I step. This has been important for safety because I run those rocky trails. Experimenting on the trails is one way for me to figure out how far ahead I can look. But that carries some risk.

I've come up with a safer way to test this by running on a cement sidewalk, the kind with cracks between the units.
I look ahead and run, attempting to miss the cracks... or attempting to step on the cracks. I can tell if I'm successful because I can feel the cracks through my running shoes.
--Can I do that looking 3 units ahead? 4 units ahead? 5? The distance that works is determined by my speed.
Run faster, look farther ahead. My guess is that my super-short term memory gives out after a certain amount of nanoseconds.
--Another way of doing this experiment is when running on the trail, look ahead and choose to step on particular rocks or roots below me.
--Or... look out at the trees, don't allow the eyes to scan the trail at all, and see if peripheral vision is precise enough
to allow me to avoid obstacles. It's been very interesting to discover how my focused awareness relates to my peripheral awareness.

Of course this relates to skiing. Bumps come to mind. On a smooth groomer, looking at the lake beyond the trail and using rhythm and corridor width to organize the turns, while trusting peripheral vision and touch to do the job of finding the snow surface, works pretty well.

 

[dbostedo]

^^^
I find that the times when I feel like I know what I'm doing in bumps (which are few and far between), are when I don't get in trouble and have my focused shifted to the current turn - when I'm instead looking one or two turns ahead, and not mentally falling behind. When I have a problem, or a bad turn, and my focus shifts to catching myself, or avoiding an obstacle, I start playing catch-up in my head, and by the time I decide where I should be turning, I might be out of control, or down on the snow. And the thinking and where I look seem to go hand in hand.

When I run trails - which I don't do often, but have occassionally - I don't see to have much issue. I think my focus can be further ahead. I need to learn to do that better when skiing, and I may do something like you're suggesting, to actually train myself to think/look further ahead.

 

[wyowindrunner]

Many years ago, Runners World published a study from the University of Iowa showed that runners who looked down at the ground had slower times and felt more fatigue than those who held a gaze in the distance. While I find this harder to do on uneven surfaces, running trails, a quick glance down for immediate hazards,( roots, rocks, and holes) and then ahead, the pace I run at this stage of the game is not fast enough to make this difficult. Translating this to bump skiing, a guick glance at the next couple of bumps and the brain is already talking to the feet and knees. Then it is skiing by the knees and the eyes are out ahead again. Although once in a while the oh, sh*t moment does occur.

Outside of that cone we still see, but with less clarity of focus. That's our peripheral vision, visualized in this image below from wikipedia. The cone is 3-D, so the peripheral vision is 3-D too, extending down and up as well as out to the runner/skier's left/right

Kinda sounds like something from the Smith defensive driving courses.

 

[Steve]

Sorry I thought you were talking about the Cone of Silence.

 

[cantunamunch]

Of course this relates to skiing. Bumps come to mind. On a smooth groomer, looking at the lake beyond the trail and using rhythm and corridor width to organize the turns, while trusting peripheral vision and touch to do the job of finding the snow surface, works pretty well.

Current research is a bit beyond the 'how much' and on to "which parts are actually kept"

Have a look at the work of MIT's Perceptual Science group, most specifically about the brain gathering sophisticated information about shape at the expense of precise information about location. IOW, you notice the cracked pavement fine and can even draw it afterwards - but you can still crack your toe or wrench your ankle on it.

http://persci.mit.edu/mongrels/index.html

The elliptical loops above should be understood as regions of similar information quantity collection - and as discussed at the link, the brain prefers to keep shape info at the expense of location information.

Overlapping the loops is actually a pretty good representation of radial feature priority within any given region - in a row of 5 moguls expect the shape of the first two to take massive priority over the location of the last 2.

 

[karlo]

. about that business of looking at the hill ahead or the trail ahead .

And then, there is feeling. Where the fall line is can be felt in the feet, whether walking, running, or skiing. Start practicing that in that progression.

As to @cantunamunch’s reference to stubbing toes and twisting ankles, consider horses, leopards and dogs, oh my. One doesn’t need precise location of everything. Our brains will automatically locate the most pertinent objects. Less pertinent ones are absorbed by our feet and ankles. Your brain detects a rougher surface, your feet and ankles will anticipate. Your brain detects a big root, you will know it is there and take a bigger step. Of course, none of that will help if you aren’t running with proper form.

Read the book, Born to Run. We are as born to run as horses, leopards and dogs, oh my.

 

[LiquidFeet]

In response to the previous two posts.... There are two distinct issues being discussed, or potentially discussed. I want to separate them now, as I don't think I did that in my post above.

--#1 There's the use of peripheral vision in lieu of central vision to detect objects. So let's say you are skiing bumps or running rocks. You never look down at the obstacles; you focus on the lake beyond the trail, or the horizon out beyond, or the middle of a tree down there. You trust your peripheral vision to alert your feet to an obstacle's placement, its 2-D shape on the plane of the surface it's on, and it's height. You trust your copilot to place your feet and to get them to travel up and over or around those obstacles safely.

--#2 There's the use of central vision to scan the line ahead directly, feeding that info into your short-term memory so that your copilot can safely place the feet etc without you having to glance down to re-check where those obstacles are as you come upon them. The farther ahead you look, and the more decisive your line choice is, and the less you look away to check below you, the slower time seems to move and the more securely and competently your copilot can manage the movements of your feet.

My point:
I don't think peripheral vision is involved in #2. That is how I run the rocks, and how I am working on skiing bumps. I do not trust my peripheral vision to pick up enough info to run the rocks using #1.

I do suspect that masterful bump skiers use #1 on icy New England bumps, but I'm not sure about that, and I know I can't. But I can use #1 on a smooth groomer, or in mashed potatoes/crud where the lumpy snow is soft enough to slice through without dealing with individual lumps.

Perhaps mileage is the thing that can progress a skier skiing icy bumps from using #2 to using #1. Not sure. @jack97?

 

[cantunamunch]

In response to the previous two posts....
There are two distinct issues being discussed, or potentially discussed. I want to separate them now; don't think I did that in my post above..

I'm glad you noticed that, saved me a bunch of typing

I will note that I think actively observed peripheral vision is *still present* in option 2 - in the form of line seeking- unless someone has absolutely painted a blue line for you to follow.

In other words, painting such a blue line would mean a heapload less work for your short term memory as it maps focus zones.

We can structure experiments with eyeglasses and masking tape if you like.

 

[LiquidFeet]

....Have a look at the work of MIT's Perceptual Science group, most specifically about the brain gathering sophisticated information about shape at the expense of precise information about location. IOW, you notice the cracked pavement fine and can even draw it afterwards - but you can still crack your toe or wrench your ankle on it.

In my day job I teach drawing and painting. In both of those courses I work HARD to get my students to get size and placement set before putting in details. Size and placement are the foundations of composition. The character of any kind of artwork absolutely depends on the relationship of its parts. If they ignore size and placement (which they want to do), or zoom through it, or plan it well under teacher admonishments then change everything in the making, and if then they dive into dessert (shape, color, delicious details), the whole thing they are making will have a high chance of failing to do whatever they hope it will do.

No student or artist peer that I've even encountered can pay attention to both at the same time. Composition first, then details. Big stuff first, then little stuff. Proportions first, details later. Forest first, then trees.

 

[cantunamunch]

In my day job I teach drawing and painting. In both of those course I work HARD to get my students to get size and placement set before putting in details. Size and placement are the foundations of composition. The character of any kind of artwork absolutely depends on the relationship of its parts. If they ignore size and placement (which they want to do), or zoom through it, or plan it well under teacher admonishments then change everything in the making, and if then they dive into dessert (shape, color, delicious details), the whole thing they are making will have a high chance of failing to do whatever they hope it will do.

No student or artist peer that I've even encountered can pay attention to both at the same time. Composition first, then details. Big stuff first, then little stuff. Proportions first, details later. Forest first, then trees.

I completely understand everything you've said here - and it is entirely consonant with everything that we've posted thus far - you're (amongst other things) re-training the focused gaze point path of your students to help them understand proportions first.

 

[LiquidFeet]

I'm glad you noticed that, saved me a bunch of typing
I will note that I think actively observed peripheral vision is *still present* in option 2 - in the form of line seeking- unless someone has absolutely painted a blue line for you to follow.
In other words, painting such a blue line would mean a heapload less work for your short term memory as it maps focus zones.
We can structure experiments with eyeglasses and masking tape if you like.

Funny. My rock-running visualization is the following. I use it every day when I run the trails. You've nailed it.

I imagine I am holding a long rod, and on the end of that rod is a paint roller. The roller has a limitless supply of white paint. I roll that roller out in front of me as I run on the trail. Then my copilot puts my feet on that line as I pass over it.

---At first I had to train myself to make a decisive line choice. I'd second guess all the time, re-choose the line, my feet would catch up to my paint roller, then I'd stumble. I don't do that any more. I make a decisive line choice and deal with it.

---Early in this process I also had to work hard not to look down to make sure my feet landed on the line. I don't do that any more. Not looking is prompted by my mantra "Get greedy!" Greedy for the extra time that I sense when I am looking ahead and trusting the copilot.

---For a long time as I rolled that paint along the trail, I'd choose very specifically where the line went. I'd wiggle the roller to the left of that rock, right around that one, over the top of the flat one next, then right around the big one. Magically my feet would obediently land in those spots (somehow... thus the imagined copilot placing the feet).

---Now I'm working on using a wider paint roller, not wiggling it left-righ between the rocks but painting broadly down a wider swath of trail. My vision takes in a wider area up ahead, without choosing specifically where to put my left foot and my right foot. I trust (or am working on trusting) my copilot to place the feet in the best place. So far it's been working. I haven't hit the granite yet on those downhills. Peripheral choosing -- does that process exist?

Leaves and running water have now put an end to my running probably for the season. The mountains are blowing snow as I type. My last run was wet, slippery, and unpleasant. I do not like having to be that cautious.

Just to be clear, in case anyone reading here thinks I'm a bad-ass rock runner, I am painfully slow. I am careful to pick my way down when the leaves are sliding over one another, destroying any grip I might find. I can't do better than next-to-last, or last, in a timed trail run. I'm training for bumps, actually, and discovering how much fun the trail is on its own merits. AND how much fun it is to figure this stuff out. I suspect young brave strong runners don't have to go through this type of mental training that I'm going through. I envy people who just "know" this stuff intuitively. That's not me.

So, tuna, does this align with stuff you are talking about?

 

[cantunamunch]

So, tuna, does this align with stuff you are talking about?

Spot on.

I can entirely relate to the first two points though not sure the greedy mantra would work for me; the third point is a known mental zone in any number of sports from skating to fencing and your fourth point is where brute force mechanical experiments like wearing masking-taped glasses would fit.

 

[LiquidFeet]

....not sure the greedy mantra would work for me....

I think slowing time down by paying attention to something in the future is common too. That's the Get Greedy thing. Relish and enjoy the extra time. Teach self to crave that extra time, rather than continuing to function in fear of what happens when not paying attention to the here and now (aka looking down). I've had to work hard to not look down, maybe harder than most.

 

[karlo]

I'm glad you noticed that, saved me a bunch of typing

I will note that I think actively observed peripheral vision is *still present* in option 2 - in the form of line seeking- unless someone has absolutely painted a blue line for you to follow.

In other words, painting such a blue line would mean a heapload less work for your short term memory as it maps focus zones.

We can structure experiments with eyeglasses and masking tape if you like.

I don't think peripheral vision is used for line seeking either. I think we scan, find the line, and ski it. Peripheral vision is sensitive to motion, not much detail. It's how we see a potential predator approaching, or defensive lineman.

 

[karlo]

The benefits of running or walking on a slope to skiing cannot be overstated. It happens to be something I do in my lessons all the time, which are typically all-day kids groups. I've been using it to enhance their awareness of fall line, setting poles for them to snake through, both straight down, and at an angle to fall line. However, this discussion of running through rocky or rooted or smooth terrain stimulated me to think and realize that our feet and ankles are reactive, not active; and, through their reaction, we feel.

Much has been written about using feet and ankles first when skiing, then knees and hips. I hadn't been able to wrap my head around that, but I think I do now. I think now that folks are talking about the first reactive motion, not active motion. So, just as we turn downhill from a traverse of a sandy slope, we roll from the outside edge of our outside foot towards the inside of our foot. The actual action is our turning our upper body and gradually letting our upper body fall downhill. In reaction, our ankle articulates and our feet roll. So, next time I have my kids remove their skis, I will also have them walk across the hill, then turn downhill, and ask them to feel what their ankles and feet are doing.

Which gets me to the follow-on observation. And, that is as instructors, we need to understand the biomechanics, and MA, but we need to be careful not to teach the theory. We need to apply the theories to help others discover their feelings and use them to promote learning. It was Feel the Force Luke, not a dissertation on time and space. Really, if one thinks about it, after having applied our innate abilities to skiing, it's easier than walking or running.

 

[cantunamunch]

I don't think peripheral vision is used for line seeking either. I think we scan, find the line, and ski it. Peripheral vision is sensitive to motion, not much detail. It's how we see a potential predator approaching, or defensive lineman.

Easy enough to test, and masking tape is cheap.

 

[Fishbowl]

I find the ability to soften my visual focus can act as a trigger to enter the state of Unconscious Competence. Letting go of where I look seems to also enable me to let go of mechanics and self doubt, and enter the zone. From my martial arts days my trigger used to breathing awareness, but I prefer the visual cues for skiing.

 

[karlo]

Easy enough to test, and masking tape is cheap.

LOL. But, duct tape seems to be the choice of champions.

 

[karlo]

Dug up some references to this ... apparently Doug Robinson was the pioneer:

http://tohatchacrow.blogspot.com/2013/08/running-talus-lost-art-of-boulder.html

I connect with this as it relates to skiing,

“As the Talus runner (skier) gains momentum, his brain has already computed where the next foot fall (next carve-apex) will land before he/she has even touched down on the preceding move. The runner (skier) is in the air almost the moment their foot (skis) has landed (apexed)...
The foot (ski) becomes a coiled spring... When running (skiing) at speed down steep inclines like this, leaping from boulder to boulder (turn to turn), it almost becomes an act of flight rather than an act of earth bound movement”,

an act which is accompanied by a very primal feeling