Suffering for success

After Geelong, I had a good hard look at my "race fitness" across each three legs. I wanted to be honest with myself because I needed to see where I could focus some more energy to give my performance a boost. From my previous post, it is evident I was happy with my run (and 6min PB) and knew I had more to give there. With the bike, I knew I under dosed my efforts but the main thing was I knew I had gas in the tank and more power in the engine. It was when I looked at my swim, and forced myself to remember that long, torturous 1.5k (or 1.7k depending on who you talk to) that I hit the mental jackpot.

BOGUS.

If I am honest with myself, my swim has gone no where in a solid 6 months. That's nobody's fault but my own. When I first got into triathlon, I came in with a swim background (translation: I swam squad 4-5 days a week when I was in school for 8 years, raced a few district and state competitions, but hadn't swum a lap in probably 13 years). Lesson: The body changes a lot, physically, in 13 years. Stupidly, I eased back on the notion that "I'm a swimmer" and never really invested the same focus, or energy, on the swim leg as my bike and run. This attitude was certainly not helped by the common misconception among triathletes that you "just have to get through the swim".

No my friends, it is not just about getting through the swim. I read a quote from a pro who said "its true you can't win the race in the swim, but you can definitely lose it" and I can't agree more. My ambivalence with swimming has left what I can see is a gaping hole in my improvement trajectory. I know/knew I was a terrible runner and I've worked hard to improve this. I loved the bike from the moment I started riding, and had a little bit of natural ability so it's been a bit easier to pick this up and improve. But swimming......I've resisted. Why? I think the 8 years of following the black line, night after night, has mentally scarred me. In fact I know it has. Back in the day, your squad instructor yelled at you until you cried, hit you on the back with a stick to correct your stroke and wouldn't let you get out of the pool, sometimes even if you needed to go to the bathroom. I still have such strong memories of those days, and as a result I developed such a hate for squad and for swimming but was made to go. I suspect this is why I find it so difficult to motivate myself to go, and follow that black line again. That, and the fact that I stupidly have been thinking "I'm still a swimmer". A friend pointed out that it's easy to become complacent with a strength; in may case, I became complacent because of the past. Coach tells me the aim of triathlon is no glaring strengths and no glaring weakness. My aim is to stop the swim rolling closer to the 'glaring weakness' bucket.

BUT I'M NOT ONE TO SIT AROUND

Once I had my lightbulb moment, it was action stations. I fronted up to masters squad (on speed set night), got my ass absolutely whooped, walked out with my ego smashed, then fronted up again. And again. And again. And again. I've asked heaps of questions. I've gotten specific drills for ocean swimming. I'm still getting my ass whooped (side note: I used to swim in the advanced squad in my triathlon club so, even with my comments above, I considered myself to have a fairly good swimmer ability. What a joke. Clearly there is a different between "triathlon swimmers" and "swimmers".....maybe its a bit like the tension between cyclists and triathletes? Anyway moral of the story - these guys in masters swimming can swim. Like, seriously-swim-I'm-going-to-national-titles swim. My legs, shoulders, arms and heart rate have gotten the shock of their lives). I'm perhaps the 2nd or 3rd slowest swimmer there. I still hate the black line. It's still a battle to get the motivation to go. But I go, and I submit myself to the 90min of non-stop swimming pain and I'm already a better swimmer for it.  I feel faster, I feel stronger, my stroke rates up. I can actually sprint continuous laps now.

The important thing for me is to be confident across all 3 disciplines; confident that my ability across each is roughly the same, that no one leg is going to let me down. I'm fortunate in that there is some residual swimming ability there; you don't forget technique, form, stroke....it comes back. The shoulders are slowly building up. My ego is slowly mending (although I did feel a little bit better when one of the guys found out I raced triathlon and said "that's crazy, I don't know how you do it". Made me feel a little better about the fact he was lapping me in the pool :)

And truthfully? The nut bag in me kind of likes the novelty of squad again. Turning up and being subjected to some cruel form of torture, not knowing what you're in for. I like changes to training, it keeps like interesting. So I've got big hopes that this cruel torture will pay off.

On the topic of changes....this week, coach mixed things up and programmed a Sufferfest video into my weekly wind trainer sessions. I follow this Sufferfest mob on Twitter and truly, the way they market their stuff it makes me think I need a dark room and a rave CD just to buy it. It freaks me out a little bit. People tweet how the DVDs ruin them, breaks them etc. Anyway, I was assured it wouldn't be too hard so I downloaded the required DVD, set up my gear and actually got excited for something new:

Sweat station

It was awesome! 80min of solid riding, good intensity and some pick up sprints. Limited downtime and some cool cycling footage. Solid calorie burner and worked up a sweat. Wouldn't mind knocking off a few more of those. If you haven't tried a DVD from these guys, give it a go if you want to mix up your trainer sessions.

Just me and the open road.....

On that note, 2 weeks until Victor Harbour and tomorrow is another solid weekend of training. Starting to get very close, 11 weeks till race day!

Me finishing Sufferfest - happy days! Love it!

Ding dong, Geelong

Yesterday I participated in the Geelong Olympic Distance triathlon. I say participated deliberately, because with the benefit of reflection and analysis of data, I don't feel like I can say I "raced".  But more on that soon.

I was really excited for this race. It would be triathlon # 5, Olympic Distance # 2 in my very short triathlon career and I was very keen to see how I would fare compared to Noosa three months earlier and - most importantly - how all this half ironman training would translate into a race.

Naturally, because I was signed up for a triathlon, the skies opened and proceeded to bucket down the most insane amount of rain from Saturday afternoon until roughly Sunday morning. So commenced the dreaded question of "will the swim be cancelled" and would I now be signed up to do the most torturous Olympic distance duathlon. I manically monitored the EPA website, USM's twitter feed and stared out the window willing the rain to stop. There was nothing else for it but to sleep and hope for the best.

Sunday morning I was greeted with.....pouring rain. Great. Official word was for a swim start, but I began to be more concerned with the road conditions. This amount of rain meant super slippery surface, bad visibility, stacks, crashes, punctures and - slower times. Then there was the wind. Strong and lots of it.  Was going to be a long day at the office.

The swim
There's nothing really positive to say about the swim. I was like an injured seal, struggling through the water, begging to be put out of her misery. First dive in and goggles came off (good start) and from then on I lost my chance to be in a group and swam the very long 1.5km on my own with no feet and miserable thoughts in my head. Was a solid 5 minutes slower then my 1.4k Australia Day swim. So yep, this was bloody dreadful.

The bike
My poor bike was hanging out on the rack by itself by this stage. I had to laugh at myself as this was definitely not something I expected. I grabbed my gear and had a pretty seamless transition. Running past the Tri Alliance tent, with lots of cheering, I admit I felt embarrassed. I have always felt proud of my swimming competence and today's swim put me way back in the field and I felt flat that this was so public. I pushed these thoughts to the side and tried to navigate around the slow pokes, the mud and to get on with it.

We (me and coach) agreed I wouldn't kill myself on the bike this time and that I'd focus on having a strong run. Given my lack of race experience, I wasn't sure where this would leave me speed wise - how fast I should push to still have run legs. Add in the pouring rain and block headwind, I was in all sorts about how to ride this race. I was also acutely aware of being in no man's land with no girls around me - I had no idea if that meant I was riding incredibly slow, them fast or what was going on. This mental roller coaster went on for much of the ride. Lesson - to chill out and focus on the task at hand.

Coming back into town, there was a lot of slow cautious riding through the park which was annoying but necessary. Case proved when a girl in front of me took the last corner too fast and her bike slid straight out from under her, resulting in her landing flat on her back and sliding 5 metres across the gravel. This lead another guy to lock his brakes and fly over the top of his handle bars, face planting quite hard into a median strip bush. I said a silent prayer that I was lucky to get off this bike with no punctures and no spills.

I got off the bike in 1.20 which I was pretty disappointed with. I knew I had a lot more in me but I wasn't sure how much to give in order to save my run - it was only my second OD and I'm still learning my limits. As soon as I came off the bike and started running, this answered my question - legs fresh as a daisy. Definitely should have pushed harder on the bike.

The run
The main goal of this race was to have a strong run off the bike. Its no secret that the run is my weakest leg and I've been working pretty hard over the past 3 month build to work this up.  I wasn't familiar with the course so I was a bit conservative with pacing - I didn't want to blow at the 5km mark and then drag my feet home.

Lucky for this as the course was pretty hilly - sharp uphill plus rolling undulations made for a challenging 10km. Seriously, I finished one hill and felt like there was another one just to replace it. Definitely was not prepared for that! But sometimes its better not to know what you're getting yourself in for as it meant that I just got on with it and tried to stay consistent.

This strategy still paid off as I crossed the line in 50.47 - a 5min improvement on my Noosa time and still with plenty of gas in the tank. To say that I was pumped is an understatement. I was so close to my sub 50m goal that I know, in hindsight, I could have gotten there. The confidence boost in how my run is tracking is incredible - I never EVER thought I would be someone who could even think she could run sub 5min/km, but now this is looking perfectly achievable. Excited to see how much more I can juice from these legs in the next ~80 days before Busso :)

Post race review
I didn't feel tired after the race and handled recovery as well as I could without having my usual nutrition with me (ok, it was basically a Coke fuelled recovery). Stretched for about 30min after the race and got in as much water as I could. Drove home from Geelong feeling good, didn't need a sleep which is a first - so something's definitely going right.

I downloaded my Garmin data to see if my heart rate averages backed up my post race thoughts on pacing efforts. And, as expected, they did.
- For the bike, my average heart rate was in my tested T2 heart rate zone.
- For the run, my average heart rate was in my tested T3 heart rate zone.
- For the swim - who knows (rubbish)

What this tells me is that I basically "raced" this as a training session. For an Olympic Distance race, I would expect these heart rates to be much higher (the red line effect that I hear about). No wonder I came off the bike with legs feeling fine and finished the run with gas. The data shows I wasn't pushing my body hard enough for this style of racing.

I was disappointed initially with what "could have been". Ahh yes, the old coulda/woulda/shoulda. But I didn't so I've got to look at what I got out of this race:

• I've learnt some valuable lessons about my own personal pacing that I can test out in the next OD race in 4 weeks time. 
• I nailed down my nutrition with no problems. 
• I woke up with no muscle aches or pains, which means training this week won't be compromised (important given the overall focus of the season). 
• And, even with my pacing miscalculations, I still had a respectable finish in the top half and got a run PB. 

But more important then all of this, I got the answer I was looking for - my endurance training is working. I was out there moving for 2.47 and finished feeling fine. This gives me a big confidence boost going into the next block of half IM training and was exactly what I needed at this point. My focus is on getting my body race fit for a ~5hour endurance event. This weekend gave me a big tick that this is tracking along perfectly.

Don't think. Just do.

For people who aren't involved in triathlon, announcing you are training for one can sometimes elevate you to a status somewhere around an athletic god. The non-triathletes (the "NT"s) don't know the difference between a sprint race and an ironman; all they know is that triathlon involves three sports in one and MAN that is HARD. Plus you have to SWIM. In the OCEAN. Wow you must be fit! Why do you do it?

I never get tired of the awe in NT's voices (and sometimes the undertones of "you nut bag, why on earth would you waste weekends like that?!") when they find out you race in triathlons, because it is the dose of reality-checking you need when you are caught up in the "world". You can get so immersed in training (was it a good session? bad? were you tired/dehydrated/on pace/under speed), critiquing everything you do, meticulously planning your swim/bike/run/eat/sleep/repeat and race schedule, wondering if you should think about a new frame/new helmet/new wheels/new aero hydration system (don't laugh, we have all thought about it) that sometimes you can forget the very fact we are involved with the sport is a pretty amazing accomplishment in itself.

You laugh off these comments by saying things like it's-no-big-deal-its-a-lifestyle etc, the NTs look at you like you're from another planet (their minds thinking 'how can riding a bike with those skinny little wheels and skinny little seats be a lifestyle?') and you look at them like they're from another planet (you thinking 'I'd ride my bike any day if it meant not waking up on Sunday with a brain mashing hangover - EVERY weekend').

And it's true - triathlon is a great lifestyle and forces you to be extremely disciplined with time. I'm at the stage where life is in a pretty good routine. Week on week it's a bit of a groundhog day, but in a good way. I'm happy that I've gotten consistency with my work/training week...well, consistent. There's no questions to ask, there's no if/buts/maybes. The routine is set and it rolls on. This makes training so much easier as there is no space for even asking the question "should I go to training? do I feel like training?" I just do. Why? Because it's in the routine. Just like going to work, eating breakfast and showering before bed. It's now part of my life.

Over the past few weeks, I've realised just how important this autopilot is and these unsolicited NT remarks. Melbourne has turned on some ripping summer weather of late; I never would have thought there could ever be a downside to this, but there is - training in the heat can be a real bitch. I've written before how much I have struggled with heat in the past. Without a routine, without this autopilot, it could be very tempting to convince myself that it's OK to miss a session because it's too hot/too windy/too humid. But.....I don't. Sure it's mildly uncomfortable, some adjustments are needed to the normal nutrition plan but my thinking is you just get out and do it. The session is set for a reason; come race day, you can't choose what weather is given so training in whatever is thrown at you not only makes you a stronger athlete but a better prepared one.

The NTs (and sometimes, the Ts) will say they can't believe so-and-so went and rode in whatever conditions were present. But these are the exact conditions we should train in; they prepare us for the worst so, come race day, we are equipped to handle whatever conditions are thrown our way. And that is why routine is so important - to improve performance through consistent training and prepare us for racing in every condition.

Adopting this attitude requires a certain focus - a goal that sits in your mind, every day, demanding your attention. I am a firm believer that, deep down, we all know what we are capable of - but the catch is you must know yourself first in order to know the answer to this question. There are things that I know I am not capable of, but there are things that I deeply believe I can achieve. And these are the goals worth pursuing, relentlessly, because the greatest disappointment in life is not fulfilling your potential.

And if you ever feel any doubt about that - go and tell an NT you race triathlons. They'll remind you that you're awesome :)

"The greatest battle is not the physical but the psychological. The demons telling us to give up when we push ourselves to the limit can never be silenced for good. They must always be answered by the quiet, the steady, dignity that simply refuses to give in.


Courage. We all suffer. Keep going"


(Graeme Fife)