“I think my right knee and foot is broken,” I said to John.
He shot me a look of doubt.
It’s race week. On Sunday, May 6th, I’ll be doing my tri-season opening at the Bassman half iron distance triathlon, a local affair in Bass River State Park.
And, as is typical of most race weeks, I experience these odd phantom pains in various places throughout my body: knees, shoulders, quads, calves, back – you name it. I stress and fuss–without cause–that I’m “injured,” and it will ruin my race.
I know I’m not the only one that gets these phantom pains. My friend Patti and I always joke about how we are “broken” right before we race. Then, as soon as the gun goes off, magically and mysteriously, we are cured of all ailments.
It’s a necessary part of the race ritual, I guess.
“Are you that nervous?” John asked.
I thought about it for a second.
“No.” I paused. “I’m curious.”
I’m sure on race day, I’ll have those race morning jitters. But, unlike race weeks of years past, this time, I am much more curious than I am nervous to see what the past several months of training have done for my triathlon performance.
I’m comfortable in the recognition that there is nothing more I can do for Sunday’s race other than to focus on proper race day execution.
And, I’m talking about two meanings of execution, here.
I want to:
- execute, as in eliminate, the triathlete I used to be so the newer, improved model can flourish this year.
- execute, as in implement, a flawless race strategy for optimum performance.
During a ride I took back in December, I vowed to myself that I would not be beat because of fear this year. If someone is going to pass me, they will need to have a better engine. And, I have no doubts that will happen. I’m certainly not the fastest triathlete around.
But–and this is a VERY IMPORTANT “but”–I do not want to spend another race in fear – fearful of getting bumped in the swim, fearful of crashing on the bike, fearful of not being able to meet my pace in the run.
So, it’s execution day for the girl that used to be afraid. She’s not prepared or willing to execute the flawless race strategy I have in mind.
I asked Vince, my coach, how I should play this race. His response: “You are so fit right now – you have to just go for it.”
I asked John his advice. His response: “Redline it.”
So, those two are in agreement. And, I am too.
I’m ready to bring whatever I have on Sunday to the Bassman triathlon. And that’s where the curiosity comes in: I don’t really know what’s in me when it comes to triathlon, something I shared provigil with you all a few posts back.
Here’s what I do know:
I trust that my training has been consistently solid for several months.
I trust my coach when he tells me that I’m ready to crush it.
I trust my discipline to execute the race plan.
This is such an incredible mental shift from previous years of triathlon racing. I’m not sure I’ve ever believed – I mean really believed – that I was capable as a “real” triathlete (whatever that is). In years past, I’d hold on the best I could until I got to the run, and then try like heck to make up time.
Not this year. I’m pushing the edge from the second the race director says, “Go.”
I’ve logged an average of 12k (about 7.5 miles) a week in swimming. I’m not going to waste that effort hanging to the back or the side of the starting line. I plan to be in the mix. If I have to give or take an elbow, so be it.
No lollygagging in transition. No stopping in portapotties. Quick transitions are free speed. And, peeing my pants? Well, it’s better than losing minutes from my finishing time. I don’t plan on giving up any time.
No soft peddling or zoning out on the bike. I’m not going to worry if I’ll have anything left for the run. Yes, I will stay disciplined and ride in the proper zone, but I’m going to push that effort as far as I can. And, I trust that my training has prepared me for it.
When it comes time for the run, I’ll slip on my visor, and settle in to go time. Let’s face it: the run is the BEST part. It always has been, and it always will be. I will trust that my effort in the swim and the bike will place me in good position to do what I do best: run, run, run.
I’ll savor the feeling of my body, as it stretches out after several hours in the saddle. I’ll relish the forward motion, the feeling of my feet grazing the ground, propelling toward that finish line. I’ll keep my competition in my crosshairs, and focus on running down anyone who managed to get ahead of me.
No matter how I fare in terms of competition or time, I will know that I raced as hard as I could, and that I was not beaten because of fear.
It’s execution day.
