keeping up

Countless workouts of mine have involved me trying to keep up with much stronger swimmers, cyclists, and runners. I realize some days are good, some are bad, some days you just don't care. I have learned that I can react, at least internally, with a huge range of thoughts and emotions when I'm falling behind or struggling to keep up. It depends on the day: the weather, who I'm training with, if I'm having a bad hair day, if I got enough sleep, if I forgot my Bodyglide..

When I first started actually training for triathlons (a few years after I started "racing" them), I would get incredibly frustrated when I'd fall behind, even if I was falling behind someone who was unquestionably faster in that discipline. The result of that frustration usually involved either giving up trying or quitting altogether. This mostly occurred on the bike. I distinctly remember about a week before my very first Ironman doing the Sunday Outdoors ride. I was almost to the turnaround store, but I was also so far off the back of the group going up that small incline by myself that I couldn't even see them. My frustration peaked, I got off my little green Cannondale, and threw it and a temper tantrum in the grass on the side of the road.

Many times falling off the back of a group has inspired me to catch back up and push a little harder. I try to get as much motivation from it as possible and not be so easily discouraged. Often, it works and I've been rewarded for my extra effort. One little acceleration on the bike can make all the difference. You catch the draft again, you get to rest, everyone's happy.

Other times I've gotten mad at my much faster friends who have rotated to the front of the paceline and picked up the speed a few miles per hour. They knew I was back there, so why would they torture me like this? It was hard to admit back in my early years that I was not able to keep up. But does anybody really like to admit failure? Of course not, and I thought I had failed for not staying on the wheel of the person in front of me.

The reality is that it's not failure. This has been a pretty hard lesson to learn, but track workouts may have helped me with it. Training for an Ironman and doing 12 x 400 repeats at 95% with a recovery walk don't really go together. Going to track for the camaraderie was worth modifying my workout. I'd have to go at 80% on the intervals while everyone else was racing, and jog the recoveries. This is hard on the pride, I'll admit it! But I think I had to learn when to race (and that would be during races, not every training run) and when to train. It's not failure, it's just training.

I also learned that having a bad day or two doesn't mean that you're going backward in your training. After doing this long enough, I know my legs will come around eventually and I'll feel good again. It's a constant up and down, so there's no need to worry.

I love having training buddies who push me to work hard, but know that sometimes it's just not going to happen. I can admit when I'm feeling bad OR, equally important, good. And it turns out that my friends who push the pace are not trying to torture me or even prove that they're faster, but instead trying to get a good workout in for themselves. Aha, it's not all about me!