"I'm feeling better ever since you know me
I was a lonely soul but that's the old me
A little wiser now from what you've shown me
Yeah, I feel again."
--One Republic, "Feel Again."
If you've known me for more than 10 years, you know that I haven't always been an athlete. Triathlon has changed me in so many ways... And I've learned so much about myself and about racing in the past 8 years I've been swimming, biking, and running.
If you know me now, you know how much I love it. Two things I often say:
"Race day is the best day."
And, on race morning itself:
"It's a great day for a triathlon!"
A very good friend is doing her first triathlon this weekend (YOU GO, SISTER!!!!), and she asked me for some advice. Here are a bunch of random thoughts on triathlon. I have many others, but these are fun.
Twenty Things You Should Think About Before Your First Triathlon.
Rule #1. Be safe.
Rule #2. Have fun.
While these first two rules don’t really need a whole lot of explanation, it’s important to understand their depth as they apply to both training and racing. For me in particular, because crazy fast technical descents are “my jam,” balancing “have fun” with “be safe” requires vigilance and humility. That gnarly tight left turn? Yeah, I probably can’t take it at 35 miles an hour without wrecking. I should brake (before entering the turn, not after, fyi!!). Understanding this balance comes from experience on the road and on the race course, trying different things and learning my strengths. Thankfully, it has been 10 years since I had a bad crash (knock wood), and I continue to emphasize Rule #1 over Rule #2 so it stays that way. And yes I have broken 50 mph 4 times in the past 2 years.
For a new triathlete, this might mean racing a little cautiously until you learn your strengths and weaknesses. But see Rule #17 and Rule #18, too.
Rule #3. Plan your race…
My overarching race plan for every race is five words: “It’s all about the run.” Especially in the longer distance triathlons, it kind of doesn’t matter what you do for the first two events if you blow the run. Trust me on this one, I learned it the hard way at Eagleman 70.3 2012. My splits tell the story. 2:34 on the bike. 2:20 on the run. Oops. One of the best things my coach had me do for the first two major races we did together was write out a full race plan that covered 2 days before the race all the way to the finish line. What was I going to eat? When was I going to bed? Would I do a warm up run or a warm up swim? What if the race was NOT wetsuit legal? What was I going to eat (and when) on the bike and run? What heart rate was I going to try to maintain? What if I got a flat? What if I hyperventilate in the water? What if I have GI issues? And the best part: what was my pump up song going to be? What would I sing to myself during different parts of the race?
Just going through the activity of writing it all out (like, 6 pages worth for my Ironman) was such a confidence builder. I generally knew what I was going to do, no matter what happened during those 140.6 miles. What if I get a flat? Fix it. And I practiced with canisters two days before. And I needed to, because I flatted at Mile 81. What was I going to eat? Bars and gels for the first half of the bike, 100 calories every half hour on the clock. Gels only during the second half of the bike. Doritos at Special Needs. W00t.
Rule #4. …and race your plan.
Time lost on the swim (or in T1, or fixing a flat) is not made up by ruining your race plan. My strongest of the three events is the bike. But I ain’t no shabby runner. The problem with this combination is Rule #2. See, I have fun going fast on the bike. But shattering my legs on the bike means not running well. As a friend once said, “It’s not a good bike unless it’s followed by a good run.” Short story: I once lost a lot of time in the water. Wait, that’s like half of my races. ONE OF THE TIMES that I lost a lot of time in the water, (Eagleman 70.3, 2013), I spent the entire 56 miles of the bike course pedaling to the mantra: “Plan B is stick to The Plan. And Plan C is stick to The Plan. And Plan D is…” You get the idea. I knew that I had to hold myself back on the bike and not try to “make up” for lost time in the water by going too hard on the bike. I had a good run that day. Even with a craptastic swim time of 50 minutes, that race is still my HIM PR (2:32 bike, 1:55 run).
Rule #5. Rule #5 is Rule #5.
Per the Velominati (Keepers of the Cog) who have a whole lot of hilarious rules about cycling, Rule #5 is also known as HTFU. Harden The Fuck Up. Racing is hard. There will be a moment (trust me) in every race where you question all your terrible life choices that led you to that very moment of pain. That’s when it’s time to invoke Rule #5.
Rule #6. Deliberate, not rushed.
This is the best advice I ever got for how to handle transition. It’s really good advice for other parts of life, too. Essentially, it means being expeditious but not sloppy. Yes, your transition time counts for your total race time, and you kinda don’t want to nap in there, but don't go so fast you forget something important. Then you have to go back and do it over... yeah, that's no good. I once lost a race in transition. No, seriously. I had the fastest combined SBR, but my T1 was like 27 minutes (hyperbolic). Think through every step in advance, and then execute them in order without effing around.
Here’s what I do:
Goggles and cap off while running from the swim exit to T1. Top of wetsuit off, too, if a long transition run. Once arrived at T1: wetsuit totally off. Stand on towel. Sunglasses on. Helmet on. Hit inhaler. Right sock. Left sock. Gel in mouth. Right shoe. Left shoe. Grab bike. Squeeze gel while running out of transition. Arrive at mount line. Mount bike. Go.
Rule #7. Set your phone to Military Time.
Leave it that way and get used to it. You’ll never wake up in the middle of the night in a panic about “DID I SET MY ALARM FOR AM OR PM???” again. Anything to reduce pre-race anxiety is good.
Rule #8. Make a list for your Transition Bag about 3 days before the race.
Give yourself time to have the “OH RIGHT I NEED A SECOND INHALER FOR T2 BECAUSE THIS IS A SPLIT TRANSITION RACE” moment. And the “Yes, I do need sunblock and lip balm and chamois cream and Body Glide." Put little boxes next to all the items...
Rule #9. Pack your transition bag the night before the race.
... And check off all the items on the list, and put the list on top of the CLOSED BAG. Anything to reduce anxiety is a good thing. You won’t have the “DID I REMEMBER MY…..?” moments in the middle of the night. You made a list. You checked it off. It’s in there.
Rule #10. NOTHING NEW ON RACE DAY.
I love this rule. Practice with everything you plan to actually use. That means clothing, equipment, food, you name it. You don’t want to find out ON RACE DAY that your heart rate monitor chafes really badly. And don’t eat anything new the day before, either. Speaking of which:
Rule #11. Carb loading is bullshit.
Google it. The #1 thing you are concerned about on race morning is your bowels moving before the race. I’m not shitting you. (See what I did there?) Traditional carb loading where you eat a big pasta dinner the night before a big race is the recipe for constipation. Don’t do it. You can add some roasted sweet potatoes to your meals 3-4 days out from the race. I usually eat a normal breakfast, a big lunch, and a light, roughage-heavy dinner. I get up in the morning, drink coffee, and exercise my Super Powers (Olwen’s Super Power is forgetting I’m gluten intolerant. Pam’s Super Power is napping anywhere. Abby’s Super Power is pooping on race day).
Rule #12. Be friendly.
Everyone is in the same pain cave. Positive talk on the race course is common and awesome, and you should be a part of it.
Rule #13. Smile.
If you have the energy. There are cameras out there. ;) And if you aren’t having fun: WHY ARE YOU DOING IT???
Rule #14. Stick to the right on the bike course.
Fast or slow. Stick the right. If you’re passing, move left, complete your pass, and move right.
Rule #15. Thank your volunteers.
Especially those poor people who got stuck with the shitty bike marshalling job who are holding back traffic or telling you to slow down because there are train tracks. Thems good people. Without them, we have no race.
Rule #16. Keep calm and (swim, bike, run) on.
It doesn’t matter how much you trained, practiced, or planned. If you talk to seasoned professional triathletes, they will all tell you something that WENT WRONG (or, not according to plan) in their previous race. There are VERY VERY FEW PERFECTLY EXECUTED RACES. One can overcome a great many setbacks on the triathlon course. It’s my “how triathlon is like life” philosophy. Training is merely developing your skill set to overcome all the unexpected things that happen between the starting line and the finish line.
Rule #17. Push yourself.
Rule #18. Listen to your body.
These two rules must be taken together. Don’t cross the finish line thinking “I could have raced harder.” Leave it all out on the race course!! But don’t puke. And don’t injure yourself. If something starts to feel funky in your body, ask yourself: “Is this fatigue? Is this a form issue? Is this a mental issue? Do I need (water, food, salt)?” With time, you will know yourself well enough to differentiate workable pain from damaging pain. I’ve made the mistake. I had a good chunk of time where I didn’t trust myself because I had pushed through damaging pain. Find the edge and ride it. But keep checking in with yourself and back off if you need to. Or stop if you need to. Or stretch, or walk through aid stations or eat potato chips. Find the balance and find the fun.
Rule #19. Finish strong.
Practice your finish line photo in advance. About half a mile from the finish (you will know when this is) straighten your bib and jersey. If it’s the only part of your race plan that you execute properly, do this right. For posterity. For FaceBook. I’m partial to the “one arm in the air, fierce look” pose.
Rule #20. Check your results.
You never know who didn’t show up that day. I almost missed standing on the podium last weekend because I didn’t check.
