Breaking Barriers

The only thing ever holding you back is between your ears.

Jaime Dispenza

(said to me too many times to count)

As a person we deal with the mental roadblocks we throw in front of ourselves every day.  I see it with the children I teach when they begin to compare themselves academically.  I see it in my daughter as she battles her perception of herself as a mathematician.  I see it in myself as I strive to overcome past perceptions of myself as an athlete.

Earlier in the year Jaime and I talked about how I needed to stop seeing myself as the person I once was and that I needed to start seeing myself as the person I had become.  It has been a long process and has covered several areas but in each I have had to break down a barrier in order to proceed forward and keep going in my new lifestyle as a triathlete.  In many cases these barriers were due to the demons inside my head.  Interestingly enough each of the barriers referenced a part of the triathlon and myself as an athlete.

One of the first walls that went down had to do with my physical appearance.  Surprisingly it wasn’t the mirror that convinced me of the changes.  For months when I would look in the mirror I would see the overweight and out of shape person I had been.  It wasn’t until my wife made the comment about the fact that I couldn’t cinch my belt any tighter in order to keep my now baggy jeans from falling to my ankles that I realized there had been a physical transformation.  It was cemented in my mind when I slipped on some 501’s with a 30-inch waist without needing a shoehorn, a girdle, or being greased up.  Shirts went from XL to Medium, Goodwill got sizeable donations, and I spent a lot of money on a new wardrobe.  Still, it took a long time to come to that realization and see my new self in the mirror.

In running my breakthrough came gradually.  When I started training for my first triathlon I was struggling to keep my pace at 10:00 minutes per mile.  When I completed the Leadman 125 my run pace was at a dismal 10:23 minute pace (ok, granted this was my first long distance event, and I was holding true to my coach’s race plan – still).  Jaime and I agreed that I would run a half-marathon race sometime during the winter.  The goal was to increase my base level running fitness.  As I approached this race I originally set a goal of running the half marathon in under two hours, which would mean running at a 9:09.  As October bled into November I realized that this could be accomplished so I then started pushing myself to lower it further, first to sub 9, sub 8:45, and sub 8:30.  While this was happening my mileage was building to the point where I was running a lot of 10 plus mile training runs.  When race day came I felt comfortable in setting a goal of a sub 8:15.  As I look at it now, this race was a perfect set up for running a good race.  The course was extremely flat.  Very different from the hilly areas I had been training on during my runs in Bend.  The altitude was low (more than 3000 feet below Bend) and the temperature was cool.  As the race Ibegan to get into a rhythm and then with each mile I began to progressively speed up my pace.  By the end of the race I was running a sub 7:30.  It ended up that I would finish the race running at a 7:50 pace.  I was ecstatic beyond all measures.  It was truly a wonderful feeling and it showed me that with hard training I could bring my running time down.  It also gave me the confidence to look at challenging myself when my triathlon race season began.  I’ll work closely with my coach but I feel that there is no reason that I can’t strive to push myself towards a time somewhere between 8 and 8 and a half minutes.  As Jaime likes to say, it’s a moving target and a lot will come down to my fitness level.  Still, the barrier of running slow was dealt a severe blow that January morning in Salem.

In biking my breakthrough was more of a surprise.  Perhaps it was because of my riding partners.  Early on I was the proverbial caboose or any riding pack.  Because the focus of my training after my long course had been on running my time on the bike had been limited to mostly long weekend rides.  Prior to Christmas I went out with Jaime and a couple of other guys.  I was surprised to find that I was keeping up with the group and when we hit the hills I was able to hold my own.  On our last hill climb Jaime punched me in the arm and said, “you’re fit man.”  Though it felt good I still questioned whether I was fit or if it was simply an anomaly.  When I went to Jaime’s triathlon camp in February I thought that would tell me a lot about how I was doing.  Our big group ride started at the outskirts of Tucson and would wind up the road to Mount Lemmon.  Overall, this would be a distance of 27 miles and rise over 6000 feet in elevation.  The plan was to ride until a certain time and then head back down to town.  I decided to head out with the first pack because my thought was that the rest of the group would eventually overtake me.  I initially rode out with about eight individuals.  With the draft that occurred from the other riders the early part of the ride was easy.  After a certain amount of time I signaled that I would head to the front so others could draft behind me.  I rode up next to Lawrence, one of coaches who provided running and weight training instruction.  We started talking and fell into an easy cadence together.  After about 15 minutes we realized that we had left the rest of our group behind.  As we began the climb up the mountain we talked and conversed with ease.  After about three miles Lawrence told me that he wanted to work on some intervals and I encouraged him to go on ahead.  I figured that I’d soon be joined by some of the quicker riders.  Miles passed and the climb grew steeper.  I kept Lawrence in my sights and we played our own version of cat and mouse as we climbed ever higher.  About 12 miles into the ride I finally heard someone come up behind me.  It was Irena, one of the elite athletes Jaime had coached, who was doing her winter training in Tucson.  She and I talked for a bit and enjoyed one another’s company.  I asked her where the rest of the group was and she noted that they were quite a bit further back.  I told her that I was surprised that no one had caught up to me.  She made the comment that I was in good shape and that my riding was looking good.  She then said she was going to head back down and see how the rest of the group was doing.  I pressed further still, stopping briefly at Windy Point.  Jaime came up with another rider and we briefly chatted before I continued up the mountain.  A mile further I came upon Lawrence who had stopped at another overlook.  He told me he was going to head down.  Jaime and his rider came up and I rode with them for a while.  I told Jaime I thought the rest of the group would have caught up to us and he replied, “no one’s going to catch you man”.  We rode together a bit before I decided to push a bit further ahead and left Jaime with his rider.  At the appointed time I turned around.  I’d made it 18 miles, further than any of the other riders.  That evening when I talked to Jaime I noted that I had come to a realization that I was no longer the proverbial caboose and that another barrier had come down.  I was not the same bicycle rider I once had been.

Swimming proved to be the most challenging aspect of triathlon training, as I did not start out as a good swimmer.  Predictably it provided probably the most barriers.  At first it was simply a matter of endurance, and then it became a matter of the surviving the melee of the open water swim.  I remember prior to the Leadman I told Justin, my friend and fellow athlete, that I simply wanted to survive the swim.  He replied back that I needed to look at it in a more positive manner.  He told me rather than thinking that I needed to survive the swim that I needed to convince myself that I could thrive in the swim.  As my swimming progressed I slowly gained confidence in my abilities.  I arranged for Jaime to meet me at the pool so we could review things.  I got there and settled into my training routine in the slow lane.  When Jaime got to the pool the first thing out of his mouth was, “Why are you in this lane?  Move down to the fast lane.”  I moved down to the fast lane and began swimming with Jaime.  Soon after we started our workout routine we were joined by Bill.  In his collegiate days Bill was a former competitive water polo player.  We cranked out the routine and I worked hard to keep up with Jaime and Bill.  At the conclusion of the workout Jaime told me that I needed to meet them at the pool as often as possible.  He noted that it was time for me to start swimming with faster swimmers.  As time progressed I noticed that my distances began to increase.  One trick I started doing was to simply not count the mileage I was doing in the pool until after I completed my workout.  This led to some pleasant surprises, particularly when I started completing workouts beyond 3000 meters.  The final barrier came down when I was finally able to integrate a flip turn into my swim workout.  I know it sounds a bit silly, but once I was able to finally do a flip turn without my sinuses filling with water or becoming disoriented I knew I had finally broken through my last barrier and I was thriving in the pool.

As with anything, new barriers will crop up on my triathlon journey – be they due to injury, increased volume, lack of noticeable progress, weather, you name it.  The trick with each will be to approach each in a positive manner and with a positive attitude.  If I can do that and not let the space between my ears convince me otherwise I think the sky is the limit as to what I can accomplish as a triathlete.  I have a new lease on life and I’m a new person.  Now that I’ve shattered that old image of myself it’s time to build upon the new image that has come into focus.

Training Chatter

Training Chatter

The room is spare save for a circle of chairs. A motley group of individuals all

clad in spandex and lycra fidgit in their chairs. All are nervous and anxious, like

they are waiting for the starting gun to go off for a race. Finally, and older

individual stands, clears his throat, and starts to speak.

“Hello, my name is Dave and I have an issue with training chatter…”

“Hello Dave…”

There I said it. I hate training chatter. Ok?

Don’t get me wrong. I, like any other person who does triathlons, engages in a

certain amount of training conversation. It, in a way, is the nature of the beast.

What got to me though was the guy who could do nothing but talk training and

talk of nothing else. At first, it really didn’t bother me, but as my first racing

season unfolded I became more and more bothered by the incessant training

chatter. It literally began to drive me crazy, which in turn probably drove my

coach crazy as well. As I look back now I can divide this chatter into five different

categories.

#1 – The Bemoan-er

This is the guy that constantly bemoans his lack of training time and makes sure

you are aware of his plight. Interestingly enough, the guy seems to have a job

that allows him to go on several mid-week bike rides in the middle of the day for

several hours. He frets publically about how out of shape he is due to said lack

of training time. This training time always seems to equal about twice the

amount of training time you are able to shoe horn in either before or after working

hours.

#2 – The One Up-er

This is the guy who always asks you about your training first so he can make

sure you know his training is just a little bit harder and longer than what you are

doing. This person clearly rides and runs uphill both ways and always into a

headwind.

#3 – the Look at Me-er

This is the guy who shares every training moment on social media. This includes

split times, power meter readings, heart rate monitor read outs, with all the bells,

and whistles. I liken it to a very long day at the pool with a child that wants you to

watch them every time they go off the diving board.

#4 – The Bling-er

This is the guy who shares every purchase with you and the world, be it a new

bike, aero bars, helmet, wetsuit, or wind resistant jock strap. In the time you

have purchased one wetsuit, bike, or power meter, this guy has purchased three

of each. The revelation of each purchase is usually followed by a long discourse

on what would be purchased next. This seems to be an extremely vicious and

expensive cycle.

#5 – The Need to Know-er

At face value, this seems to be a very benign form of chatter. However, this one

is the most dangerous and under-handed. This is the guy who expresses

‘genuine’ interest in your training and wants to know all about what you’re doing

in great detail. It isn’t until much later that you discover this person is writing

down and duplicating your program. Some might say, “so what”, but for me, this

is a plan written for me by my coach. Lifting this plan in my mind is a form of

plagiarism and an affront to my coach and his ability to make a living.

As my racing season was coming to a head I couldn’t understand why this

chatter was bothering me so much. I came to two conclusions. The first was a

fear of disappointment and the other boiled down to something I would term, act

like you’ve been there.

My fear of disappointment came from not wanting to disappoint my coach. Now I

will be the first to say that my coach never put any pressure on me or ever

expressed disappointment - far from it in fact. He was supportive and constantly

provided encouragement. As a new athlete, I saw and heard the chatter as an

indictment of not training hard enough or long enough. What I failed to recognize

was that my coach had developed a training plan for me in order to be

successful. I was trying to compare myself to others when in reality all I needed

to do was follow the plan set out for me and not worry about what others were

doing or saying.

When I see an athlete preen after scoring a touchdown or hitting a three-pointer I

am reminded of Jerry Rice, who always stressed to “act like you’ve been there

before”. Jaime, my coach, provides a good example of what Jerry Rice practiced

and preached. As an accomplished triathlete and coach Jaime could be excused

if he participated in some of the chatter I have listed – and believe I have seen

and heard some coaches and athletes do just that. However, he truly acts like

he has been there before and that he will be there yet again. I began to realize

that the chatter was just another form of preening and I should just remember to

look to him as a role model. Jaime has taught me to live in and embrace the

moment, follow the plan before me, and to cut out the chatter.

It has been difficult but for the most part I have come to terms with the chatter.

There is still that guy who continues to chatter away and Jaime, at times, has had

to act as my sponsor, and point me back in the right direction. It involves being

strong, sticking to the plan, and not letting peer pressure get the best of me.

A new race season has begun and with it a new training program. It is one that I

will discuss, question, analyze, and revisit with Jaime. This year, rather than

falling into the art of second guessing myself and allowing some to practice mind

games I’ll put on the earphones, crank the tunes, focus on the plan, and cut the

chatter.

Dress for Success

Clothes make the man.  Naked people have little or no influence on society.

                                                            Mark Twain

As triathletes we constantly are trying to simulate race conditions.  One thing that I feel sometimes gets lost in the gear, the nutrition, and training boils down to simply being dressed for the right racing conditions.  You’re spending a considerable amount of time in this clothing and if you’re miserable due to not preparing correctly it will make for a very bad race that will more than likely affect your time, and perhaps even your health.

This past weekend I had the chance to run in Portland.  I felt that this would be perfect preparation for a half-marathon I have coming up in Salem, about 45 minutes south of Portland.  It isn’t a given, but a race in the Willamette Valley during January usually means cool, rainy, and potentially blustery conditions.  The weather report for Portland was pretty straightforward for the weekend – rain with wind, followed by more rain, with a chance of wind and rain, oh yes, and more rain.  The conditions were perfect!  This would help me prepare for the worst-case race weather scenario and allow me to see if I had the proper clothing for the upcoming race.

Saturday morning dawned and as I looked out my hotel room window (through the streaks of water from the falling rain) I could see it was wet, cold, and blustery.  Had I been in my old home of Albuquerque, this would have been a day to crawl back in bed and get warm under the covers with my wife.  In Portland, this was just another day.  Heart monitor, tights, long sleeve base layer, race singlet, wind jacket, gloves, skullcap, wood socks, and shoes were all enlisted in the attempt to stave off the elements for an hour and half without needing medical or psychological attention. 

I set out on a path along the Willamette River that would take me through the city and into the fringes of Forest Park.  I was immediately struck by the sheer number of people that were out who were running, riding their bikes, or walking along the path.  Two weeks earlier I had run along the Bosque Trail on a sunny day in Albuquerque and the numbers didn’t even come close to what I was seeing in Portland.  Clearly, if you wait for a sunny day in the winter to go for a run or a ride in Portland you might never get out the door.

The wind and rain added a certain element to my run.  At first it was a concern, but eventually I simply forgot about the elements.  My team wind jacket (thank you Champion Systems) functioned perfectly.  It fended off the wind and rain and allowed me to run in comfort.  Interestingly enough, I have recently found that running in the elements can actually seem pleasant.  Don’t ask me why, but it seems to heighten my senses.  I truly feel alive – maybe it’s the endorphans, maybe it’s becoming an Oregonian.  My run felt great and it was fun greeting the runners I passed.  We would give each other a knowing smile or a pleasant “good morning”.  I even had a bike rider go by during a particularly blustery part, flash a smile, and give me a thumbs up.  Too quickly it seemed my run was done and I was shedding my wet clothes and warming up in a hot shower.   It was a confidence boost for me because I knew that with the clothes I had and the training I had done I was going to be able to complete the half marathon in any type of weather.

After several months of doing this triathlon thing I have come to the conclusion that I truly feel better when I have the chance to ‘experience’ something first so to speak.  Part of that may be due to the fact that I’m new to the sport.  Frankly, for me, a lot of it is just plain psychological.  I just know that when I was doing the Leadman I had to bike up Sparks Hill to give me the mental boost, same with the swim and the run.  Once I knew I can do something it immediately sets my mind at ease.  So too, was my weekend in Portland.  I knew that I had what I needed clothes-wise in order to run a successful race.

It’s important to practice racing in what you’ll be wearing.  I’ve already related the story about what happened when I jumped into the pool wearing a tri top that no longer fit.  Just last month I got a complete kit that I ordered through my coach.  In the past couple of weeks I’ve tried to find opportunities to wear everything.  The last thing I want to discover is that my race suit starts rubbing me the wrong way and makes me tender in certain places I don’t even want to describe after only a couple of hours on the trail or in the saddle. 

Just as important as comfort is making sure you’re prepared for every condition.  Growing up in the Rockies taught me about how quickly the weather can change.  The Cascades are no different.  Case in point, in 2012 the swim portion of the Pac Crest was shortened due to snow.  In 2013 temperatures soared into the mid 90’s.  Just this year I swam and biked a portion of the Leadman the day before the race in sunny and warm temperatures.  The next morning the swim began in temperatures below freezing.  Make sure you have everything you can possibility need.  It’s easy to discard something, much more difficult to create something out of thin air.

Another benefit of practicing in the clothes you’ll be racing in is to begin to understand what I call the ’20 minutes out effect’.  I began to appreciate this when I began to Nordic ski and snowshoe.  Invariably I would overdress due to the cold outside temperatures and within twenty minutes I would be sweating worse than Ned Beatty in Deliverance.  If you have the chance practice in different combinations and see what works best.  Certain things help retain the heat better and other wick the moisture away.  It’s all a matter of comfort and each of us determines that in very different ways.  Once you find a combination that works for a certain type of conditions stick with it. 

My past weekend in Portland boosted my confidence for my upcoming race but it was not without it’s own issues.  When I packed for the weekend I packed my rainy race stuff but I forgot to pack the Woollite.  After I got done with my first rainy training session I stripped down and piled my soggy clothes in the corner.  After my shower I went looking for a laundry room.  It was then I discovered the place where we were staying did not have a laundry room and there wasn’t a place nearby to purchase any Woollite.  Having no way to quickly wash everything like I do at home I simply hung everything up to dry and hoped for the best.  I realized that one of the parts of being prepared clothes-wise also means having enough training clothes for each day of training.

The next day I awoke to more rain.  It was just another winter’s day in Portland. I was confident that I was sufficiently ready for the elements and got everything back on for another wet run.  For the most part everything was dry.  My only concern that day had nothing to do with being comfortable.  It had more to do with my concern for those folks that were downwind of me as I ran by.