USAT Age Group National Championships
Burlington, VT / August 20, 2011
Swim - 23:11
T1 - 1:17
Bike - 1:06:07 (22.5mph)
T2 - :53
Run - 42:56 (6:56/mi)
Total - 2:14:25
AG Place - 41 / 88
Gender Place - 302 / 987
Overall Place - 329 / 1653
Some days you show up to race and just don't have your best stuff. Unfortunately for me that occurred today during the USAT Age Group National Championships in Burlington, VT. Though my training has been going very well lately, things didn't come together as I'd thought they would earlier this morning. I raced as hard as I possibly could and things just didn't work out in my favor. It took my going from hopeful to devastated in order to realize that there was more to take away from the race than the printout of the results.
Things headed in the wrong direction right from the start. The swim took off fast and I immediately missed the first split in the field. It's not something that happens to me often, but I realized right away that these guys were just incredibly fast and I'd have to do my best to just minimize my losses in the water. As we hit the far turn on the course I was right about where I thought I should be, but then couldn't sight the next buoy. I never have issues sighting so it was a strange experience, but I just followed the pack in front of me and figured somebody knew where we were going. Bad assumption on my part. Apparently nobody had any idea where the next buoy was. We didn't really swing all the way off course, but we did end up taking a rather roundabout route. As I talked to a bunch of guys during bike check out, it became clear that this was an issue for almost every wave. Just as I got the navigation under control, I hit a mass of people from a number of earlier waves (and being in wave 14 meant there were plenty of slower swimmers on course by this point). Picking my way through the bodies wasn't easy; it never really is, but it seemed like it was exceptionally difficult today. No mater which route I picked, somebody would swerve in front, come to a dead stop, etc. By this time the frustration was building and I just wanted to get out of the water and onto my bike. Eventually I did just that. Despite my troubles, I still put in a decent time (relative to the other competitors, not what I'd normally put down for a 1.5k swim). I was more than three minutes slow, but the consensus is that the course was a bit long.
When Stephen and I spoke before the race he gave me a race plan for the bike and I followed it exactly. I took the first section of the course pretty easy, hit the middle portion hard, and then made sure to set myself up for the run during the final few miles. It was hilly. Most people were probably concerned with the uphill portions, whereas I was just hoping to get down them without ending up on the ground. I thought I was over the crash I had a few weeks back, but as I hit high speeds on downhills today I could feel myself getting tense and sitting up more than I would have in the past. That will pass with time, but today it made for a few nervous moments.
I felt good coming into the second transition. I took off at a good clip and was intent on putting down a solid 10k. Challenge number one: the massive hill sitting about 100 feet outside the exit of transition. It makes for an interesting course, but it really hit my legs hard. But I got over the top and out onto the flats in good time, going about 6:45 for the first mile. Not blazing fast, but I knew that would come down now that everything else was flat to downhill. I was feeling great through two miles as I went through with a 6:20. Pretty much the same story by the halfway point. I was averaging 6:30 by that point and I looked like I had a green light for a good split and decent overall finish. Then, somewhere just before the four mile mark the wheels totally came off. It was an awful feeling. From mile 4 to mile 5 I think I experienced every possible emotion. First up, frustration. I have been running so well in training that I was positive I was due for a solid run today. As my struggles continued, my mood changed to disappointment. The fact that I wasn't executing to the best of my capabilities in a major event was killing me. It's not every day that you're able to compete against this level of competition on this sort of stage. I felt as though I was letting myself down, letting down those that had come to support me, letting down my coach, Stephen, as he's seen all the work I've done in training and knows what I'm capable of. Then I went to that dark place that triathletes sometimes go. I started questioning why I was even doing this. I was so discouraged that I started to question what I was even doing at a National Championship race. I was pushing myself as hard as I possibly could, but just getting nothing back from my body. With little to keep the spirits up, I just kept reminding myself that I was racing as hard as I possibly could and it wasn't lack of actual effort that put me in this position. Fortunately I entered the finishing area just moments into this little episode and my mood improved. I saw Jeff Donatello first and he shouted some words of encouragement. I think Kat was the next I saw and heard. And Stephen soon after (who, I believe, was running and yelling). With a quarter mile to go I was doing everything I could to kick to the line. I heard my parents next as I neared the finishing chute. Then Jeff Cole, director of next weekend's West Kennebunk Fire Tri, gave me one last shout as I entered the final stretch. Somewhere in the massive crowd Eileen was screaming and snapping pictures. Though I'd mentally exhausted myself for the final 2.2 miles of the run, I was still able to look around and think about how cool the finishing scene was.
I didn't do as well as I'd hoped today. As Eileen slept on the car ride home, I spent about four hours reflecting on things in silence. At the start of the ride I was still pretty down on myself for not performing when it really mattered. I was proud to have competed in such a competitive race, but I expected more from myself. But by the time we pulled into our driveway, I was much more at ease. I still wasn't thrilled with the outcome, but I had been able to recognize that not every race is going to go exactly as planned. There are going to be times, in racing, training, work, life, etc., that things just don't go well no matter how hard you try or how well you prepare. It happens and there really isn't much you can do about it other than move on to the next day. I also gave a lot of thought to my expectations heading into the race. Essentially, I had been lying to myself and everyone I talked to for days. I told everyone that I was coming into the race with no expectations and just wanted to do the best I could and see what happened. I said all the right words and I think I actually believed them. The problem, I had allowed myself to quietly come up with some goals. I allowed myself to think that I had an outside shot at a top 10 age group finish. But I also thought, "I'd be happy if I just qualified for the World Championship team". I never really considered that it wouldn't happen. I'd spent time looking at the results from the past three years and knew what sort of time I expected out of myself. It all seemed possible on paper and over time I allowed myself to set goals while maintaing the right attitude outwardly. I knew a top 50 overall finish was unlikely, but top 75 or 100 would be cool. It was a huge mistake. There are times when it is appropriate to set expectations like this, and there are times when you need to do what I was telling everyone I was in Burlington to do.
If you'd asked me mid-race if anything positive would come out of today, I'd have sarcastically responded "I kept my bike upright unlike last race". But ask me now and I'd be able to come up with an actual list of things I took away from today's event. There might still be some sarcasm, but overall it'd be a legitimate list of things I learned. Mostly, I'd tell you that you have to have a bad race every once in awhile in order to appreciate the good ones. I'd say that I've been spoiled by a series of good results and can afford a bad day once in awhile. And I'd finish by telling you that there's always next week in racing. So, if you're racing in Kennebunk next weekend, watch out because I have something to prove!
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