So, its been a while since my last post, as I was preparing for the Duathlon Short Course National Champs, this past weekend. Everything was going pretty well, I was staying healthy and out of trouble, which, is pretty amazing for me. I even had my lactate threshold tested on the bike the weekend before the race, and felt a good sense of confidence heading out to Richmond, VA.
I had heard all the usual things you hear from other athletes about the course - it varied from being pretty easy, to flat out impossible, with a little in between. Our sport is great when it comes to exaggeration, we're worse than fisherman. Some guy I talked to, couldn't believe I would leave the comforts of the Midwest to race in the Hills of Virginia; as if one of the climbs was the next Alpe D'Huez. But, I felt my fitness would carry the day, no matter the conditions.
So, I headed out to Richmond, and arrived in sunshine and 80 degree weather. It was unreal. There were college girls in bikinis, the race course was 2 blocks from my hotel, there were college girls in bikinis, the run was mostly off-road, which I love, and did I mention, there were college girls in bikinis, laying out, getting sun, all over the run course?
Friday and Saturday, I followed my tradition, of sleeping a ton, only going out to train, and generally avoiding a lot of people and aggrevation. I did manage to get some sun from training, and it felt great. The warm air, the warm breeze, my legs took to it all and I felt great. Right up to Saturday night, when the first crash of thunder came. I figured, the rain would pass by morning, and even if it didn't, I have always raced well in the rain, so, what's the big deal?
Everyone is huddled in transition, which is now like cold soup, setting up, trying not to get thier racing flats soaked, while trying to warm up. The 80 degrees was replaced with 55 and 95% humidity, and it only got worse. I still felt good though, so, I shrugged it off, and went to the start line.
It was mile 3 of the first run that I felt them, and they did not arrive gently. I sensed something wasn't right, I was pouring sweat, and suddenly, wasn't sweating nearly as much. The chills crept up my back, my arms and my legs. The first thing I thought, "I'm blowing up, I'm dehydrating 17 minutes into the National Championship." There were no mile makers, but, the run was 2 loops to make up the opening 10K. So, on the second loop, I slowed down considerably, and hit both water stops. I went into damage control, and started thinking, let them go, you'll get fluid on the bike, and will catch up. But once I got to my bike, things got ugly.
The bike course started on steep, short incline, on a blacktop road, with several quick switchbacks. I got on my ride, started up the climb, and got out of the saddle for the second switchback. Next thing I knew, I was kissing pavement, and blood was coming out of my right elbow, and forearm. Then, I did something I have never done in a race: I looked up at the sky, lied there for a couple of minutes and debated quitting. The race wasn't 45 minutes old, and I was on the ground and dehydrated. As I write this, I don't know what made me get up, but I did,, checked my bike and took off for the 4 looped course.
The rain came and went in spurts, and on this ridiculous course, we had to manuever through a parking lot, that lead to a forest preserve. It also required us to make a 180 degree turn, on wet pavement, with tree seeds lying everywhere. As I safely rounded the turn on my second loop, I again got out of the saddle and accelerated. Same result, me on the ground, now with more blood, and a red stain starting to come through my race suit, on my right hip. At this point, I knew, my day was done. Everytime I tried to get out of my saddle to accelerate, I could feel my back wheel, start to give, so, for all the power I had in my legs, it was rendered useless.
The second run was a formality to get to the med tent. It was my worst race as a duathlete, and I picked one of the biggest stages to do it on.
Now, most of you are probably wondering, what's the point though? I mean, ok, yeah, you had a bad race, but what do we learn from this. Well, let me tell you. My immediate reaction on the ride home was - " I need another race immediately to prove that I am fast and belong with the top guys out there." And, for the last 4 days, that's all I have bugged my coach about. But, she has stayed firm, and pointed out that, gut reactions like that, are not always the best choice. And she's right. As type A's, we hate failure, and let me tell you, I can't stand it. It stays with me, and haunts me until I am able to right the ship. We need that immediate correction, otherwise, we go nuts. But, that's not the way to go. Yeah, I'm angry and frustrated, but, is sneaking in another race going to make things better, especially if that other race jeopordizes the plan I have for the season? No way. And, although it took my coach, my team director, and a fellow athlete to see this, I have concluded, we are all going to have bad days, and some stuff, like crashing on a wet course, is out of our control. The things we can control, like hydration, we fix, and move forward. The key phrase there is - MOVE FORWARD. Listen, ask my Mom, my sister, my Dad, anyone close to me, I will be miserable for days after a bad race, but, its not helping. The thing I have learned, is that, each race, has its place, and sometimes, they will provide more dissapointment than joy.
I'm not going to sit here and try to tell you I'm not angry, and that I am going to forget what happened, rather, I am channeling that energy to get me ready for my next race. I will take out my frustrations on that course, on that field. But wasting energy every day until then, re-thinking this past race in my head, its exhausting and pointless. The race is done, and I can't re-do it. None of us can. When this happens to any of us, use the one muscle we don't use enough - your head. Take a couple of days, and mellow out. Train, for sure, but, don't use every training session to try and re-do the race. Don't even think about your next race, at least not for a couple of days, and just train, clear your head space. Stop over-thinking. I think I say this more for me, than for everyone else, but think about it. And remember this, the only race you can't recover from is the one you can't let go of. Its like pining over lost love, which I have also done. And you know what that got me? A huge phone bill, some big credit card bills sending gifts that were never used, and more emptiness. Its the same with your racing. Learn what you can from it, and move on - move ahead.
Did I mention that there were girls in bikinis in Richmond? Sorry, its been a long winter.
