It’s amazing when you have a B-H-A-G (Big Hairy Audacious Goal), how it can take over. If it’s one you’re excited and passionate about, it’s great. Of course, with all things in life, you have to learn to balance (something that I’ve learned to master exceptionally well after years of utter failure).
Well, one of my BHAGs for 2013 is now completed. I can proudly put a check next to it and move on to the next item. I crossed the finish line at Ironman Lake Tahoe and coached a couple dozen athletes to do the same thing; many for the first time.
So I thought I would share a little race re-cap and some lessons learned along the way.
My race day recap actually starts the day before. At 6 a.m. Saturday, it started raining. And it continued to rain all day. When I dropped off my bike at T-1 (sorry that’s triathlon speak for Transition Area 1 – where athletes come out of the water and change from their wetsuit to bike attire and take off on the cycling leg of the race) on Saturday, the lake looked like the ocean. The gusting storm winds were creating endless rows of whitecaps which were crashing on the beach. It’s not the most comforting image you want to see about 12 hours before the race start.
As the day went on, the temperature dropped and it started snowing. In the cabin where I was staying, we got several inches of snow on top of the wet ground. It snowed for hours and hours. Foreshadowing of things to come?
As the nasty winter weather was unfolding, it was easy for my mind go to all the “what ifs.” What if the wet roads freeze overnight? Will that cause dangerous cycling conditions? What if I can’t make it to the start line on time because I have to get my low clearance Volvo down a half-mile gravel road covered in snow before I make it to the main road? With race nerves in full force, I knew I didn’t need to worry about the “what ifs.” I had to cast aside these fleeting thoughts before they took root and took too much mental energy. The fact is that there are things you can control and things you can’t. And you shouldn’t worry about the things you can’t control. (And the weather is one of those things.) My motto about weather is that it’s going to be what it’s going to be. One of the spectator signs I saw the next morning seemed to put it all in perspective, “Suck it up Buttercup!”
Lesson 1: Sometimes things don’t go as planned. Don’t freak out.
Race morning…I woke up at 3:30 a.m. to eat (a crazy thing about Ironman races, you’re supposed to eat a light breakfast about 3 to 4 hours before the start of the race (to top of your glycogen stores). I was out of the cabin by 4:15 a.m. and on my way to catch one of the athlete buses to the start line.
I got to King’s Beach and it was 27 degrees. The athletes were walking around doing their pre-race rituals along with lots of shivering and trying to stay warm which wasn’t working so well. The good news…the snow-capped mountains around the lake and the mist rising from the water was breathtaking!
Lesson 2: Even when something isn’t going as planned, look for the beauty or the silver lining. It was one of the most beautiful sights I’ve ever seen (even if I would have enjoyed it more with a warm blanket and a cup of hot chocolate).
The swim was the new format – the rolling start which I liked more than the mass start which is the standard for most Ironman races. A rolling start means the athletes enter the water in a continuous stream based on their expected time to finish (fastest first) versus everyone racing off at the exact same time.
The swim start is usually one frenetic burst of built-up nerves and energy resulting in 2,500 bodies kicking, colliding and punching into one another as they all desperately try to get some breathing room. Not exactly the favorite part of the race unless you’re part MMA fighter and part mermaid. This start was a little less chaotic. I actually didn’t get a hard elbow in my face until I was making the first turn a quarter mile into the 2.4 mile swim. But it was a doozy for sure! Ouch.
I made it out of the water into the changing tent at T-1 and apparently the race organizers had not accurately predicted the amount of folks who would be crammed into the tent at one time. The tent was way too small. There was literally standing room only and no place to dump things out of your bike gear bag without people stepping on it. Add bulky wetsuits, frozen hands and wet bodies to the mix and changing was a major feat. What should have been a quick in-and-out experience was anything but.
Lesson 3: Go with the flow. (And think warm thoughts.)
I got on my bike and started my 112 mile journey and it was cold! Temps were hovering around 30 degrees. My hands and feet were freezing. My goal at that point was to just make it through the first hour of the ride, hoping that I would warm up after that. I did pretty well; I was averaging about 21 miles per hour on a rolling terrain. Then of course, comes the brutal part.
The course has two sets of climbs up summits that are back to back. So to say it’s challenging is an understatement. If that’s not bad enough it’s a double loop course. So the first pass is just a preview of what’s to come.
Lesson 4: While it may be good to know what to expect; it’s also good to stay in the moment. One of the tricks of completing any Ironman race or any big life goal for that matter is to stay in the moment and not get worried about what’s coming down the line. Focus on the here and now. Be present and take things as they come.
I was on my second loop of the bike course, when my day took an unscripted turn. I was cruising through Truckee, a cool western town with lots of spectators. I headed down the main street and was going into a 90 degree left turn. As I was making the left (probably too fast I might add), another cyclist made an unexpected move in front of me. I swerved wide and went careening into the metal barricades that were set up to block off the spectators. I took out two sections of barricades with my bike as I crashed in one of those classic “did-you-see-that-guy” moments. I’m sure I gave the spectators a little extra excitement, especially the ones who had to dodge my hurdling bike and body. My right knee, elbow, hip and shoulder took the hit as I landed. I got banged up pretty good. A little blood but mostly bangs, bumps and bruises.
Repeat Lesson 2: Look for the silver lining. The silver lining in this case was that the metal barricades broke my fall and prevented me from getting a nasty case of road rash from the pavement. And no one else was hurt.
As soon as I fell, one of the volunteers ran over to see if I was ok. Then she started yelling at all the other spectators as they approached… “Don’t touch him! If you touch him, he’s disqualified.” This was repeated at least five times as I was lying tangled in the barricades lying underneath my bike. So, I struggled to get up with my bike without assistance and started to inspect the damage. I hurt, but there was only a little blood.
My head was spinning with thoughts. “Am I hurt?” “How bad is it?” “Is my bike ok?” “Is my race over?”
I was asked repeatedly by another race volunteer if I was ok, and if I wanted to stop and get to first-aid. With almost no hesitation, I declined. Because in all my internal chatter, one thing was clear. I wasn’t going to stop unless there was no other option.
As a coach, I make my clients write out goals and then rank their commitment on a scale from 1 to 10. If they are not at a 10, I get them to rework their goal or rethink their commitment until they are fully on board. The fact is that this goal for me was a 10+. I knew before I started that there would be struggle involved. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Sure, this crash was unexpected, but it didn’t change things. Ironically, I had worked more on my mental conditioning prior to this race than I have ever done before. Seemed to me I was being tested.
Lesson 5: Stay focused on the goal even when the going gets tough.
And so I remounted my trusty (but slightly banged up) steed. The spectators were so awesome. They started clapping and cheering as I started up the road. I smiled and waved in appreciation.
Lesson 6: Appreciation and gratitude are always welcomed. So give it and receive it humbly and enthusiastically when appropriate.
I got about 100 yards up the road and I realized that my bike stem that holds my aero bars was bent about 45 degrees to the right. I stopped and inspected my bike and everything else seemed to be working. I wouldn’t be getting in my aero bars (which is usually about 90% of the time) for the remaining 37 miles of the bike ride). Let’s just say I was not as fast or aggressive on the rest of the ride for multiple reasons.
Repeat Lesson 3: Go with the flow. (Sometimes lessons have a way of being reinforced just so you’ll get it or in case you are a little hard-headed the first time or two.
My race quickly went into survival mode. I knew I wasn’t going to have a great time, but I would make it to the finish line if I just kept moving forward.
Side note: The strangest thing I’ve ever seen in a race happened about 5 miles up the road. One of the competitors was wearing his thick neoprene wetsuit on his bike for the first lap and a half. I saw him on the side of the road starting to strip out of it on one of the summit climbs. That’s how cold it had been on the bike ride.
I finished my bike leg. It was now time to start the marathon. This would not be pretty. After my crash, my right knee and hip were apparently not in the mood to run 26.2 miles. So it was lots of walking and running with the occasional hobble thrown in for good measure.
I’ve never been on an Ironman course after dark (around 8 p.m.). So I got to wear a headlamp headband. Most of the run was on a bike path that cut through woods and along the Truckee River which was very dark, so it was a bit sketchy. The little headlamp beam was not up to the task, although it was better than nothing. I kept thinking that a good face-plant would cap off my day nicely. Luckily, that didn’t happen.
Lesson 7: Sometimes things don’t go as planned. The goal may stay the same, but the way you get there and the journey you take may be different. And that’s ok.
And Repeat Lesson 3: Go with the flow.
I got through the first and longest part of the run course and had my support waiting for me. Cheering me on (and wondering where the heck I’d been since my projected times were a little skewed…well a lot skewed). What a boost of adrenaline! A special shout out to Chris who was not only my tireless training partner but also my crew support for the race. I was also blessed to have the always enthusiastic SF Tri Club, countless friends cheering me on virtually from around the globe, as well as the wonderful spectators and volunteers on the course. I am forever grateful and humbled. Thanks!
Lesson 8: You can’t tackle a huge goal without support.
Anyway, I crossed the finish line so my race was a success. I completed my goal. While it may not have gone as planned, I got a bonus – a good story. So all in all, I’ll chalk this one up as a good day. It’s amazing what some people will do for a darn finisher t-shirt.
Lesson 9: People love a good story.
To put this all in perspective:
Mike Reilly, the official ‘voice’ of Ironman noted at the Awards Ceremony the next morning that this race was the toughest he had ever seen. 385 people did not show up for the swim. Apparently some people didn’t realize that triathlon is now a winter sport. The DNS (Did Not Start) and DNF (Did Not Finish) rate for those who did brave the conditions was 35%, compared to the average of 5% for all Ironman races.
Ironman Lake Tahoe can now boast the slowest average finishing time, the highest altitude and the most brutal climbs of any Ironman race in the world. (Maybe I should research these things before I sign up! Naww… that would take out the element of surprise.)
So I had a tough day, but so did everyone else. But did I mention I have a good story?
Lesson 10: Big goals are usually more daunting than you expect. Obstacles that are unexpected at the start will crop up on your journey. But getting to the finish line is worth it.
Savor the victory and use it to propel you forward to your next big goal.
