When I think of myself as a racer I don’t think fast. I think good, but not fast. When I got out of the swim Scott told me I was 6th out of the water. I could have sworn there was an entire pack of people ahead of me. When I hit the bike turnaround at the end of the downhill I was in 2nd place, I expected at least 4 others to be ahead of me. Starting back up the climb I could see all the riders behind me. The closest female looked so strong and fast, and there I was slogging up the hill in my granny gear. I knew she was trying to chase me down and accepted the fact she was going to pass me. I ACCEPTED the fact. At that moment I realized not only had I just lost the race, but I was handing it over. Why was I so ready to believe her abilities over mine – I knew nothing about her? What if she couldn’t climb? What if she was on the verge of blowing up? What if she couldn’t run?
While I wasn’t deluded enough to believe I could win, I was disappointed enough in myself that I figured I’d at least make this girl work to pass me. I pushed up the hill with what I had, not caring if I had anything for the run. I focused on the maximum effort I could produce in that moment. My goal was to get as far as I could before the next racer passed me. Imagine my surprise when I got to transition still in 2nd place.
Now did I think I had a shot at winning? Absolutely not. Running is not my strong point, I would eventually get passed – probably in the first 2kms, but I was sticking to my guns to make her work for it. I didn’t look at heart rate, pace, or time. I was going strictly on putting one foot in front of the other as fast as I could. At the run turnaround I was able to see how far back the rest of the racers were. They looked so close. There was the girl still looking strong, fast and even more determined. I was the one in the lead but I felt weak, slow and vulnerable.
I picked up the pace. When I saw the last steep climb I was done. There was no way I was going to maintain my lead up that. I mentally gave myself a shake, - don’t hand over the race. Make that girl work. Stop giving up. Maybe that girl has a stitch and had to walk. Maybe she feels like she has to puke like you do. I focused solely on going as fast as I could up the hill. I did get passed by a young guy, which meant others weren’t far behind but they weren’t there yet so I fought on. Not once did I look behind me because I knew if I did and saw how close the next racer was I would be finished.
When I reached the top of the hill I had 1.5km to go, all downhill. Never did I imagine I could maintain a lead in a race this long. Was I thinking I could win? Nope. I was hurting thinking that 2nd place was good and started slowing down. I gave myself a HARD mental slap across the head. What is WRONG with you? Why do you want to settle for second when first is right in front of you? I increased pace.
Only when I reached the 1 km mark did I believe I could take the win and decide to fight for it. I was so close to the finish. I was not going to be the Tour de France rider who worked so hard the entire race only to be blown by in the final meters. I dug into a well of energy and effort I didn’t know existed and sprinted the final km, hoping I wasn’t going to have to slow down to throw up. For the first time ever in a race seeing the finish line did not defeat me.
I finished 50 secs ahead of the next female. I was that far ahead, and yet up until the last 5 minutes of the race I was ready to concede victory to her because I didn’t believe I was faster. Why? Because I was in pain. I didn’t feel fast. I didn’t feel strong. I didn’t look as fit as her. She had fire in her eyes while I felt like a scared rabbit. I never realized how many negative pre-conceived notions I have in my head. It never occurred to me that maybe all top finishers are in pain. Maybe none of them feel fast. Maybe they all feel weak. Maybe none of them think they look fit. Maybe they all feel like scared rabbits running for the chute waiting to be passed. I’ve never seen myself race. Maybe I do look fast (I just assume everyone who tells me that is being polite and encouraging). Maybe I do look strong. Maybe I do look fit and intimidating.
This race has given me tremendous insight into realizing how many times I’ve mentally buckled in races. In this race, because I was leading, there was a tangible outcome if I gave up – I’d lose my podium finish and I’d know it. Usually I’m never in contention for a win so I’m only racing for my own goals, if I give up on those there’s no consequence and nobody knows but me.
Looking back on some of my races I realize that I’ve let a lot of goals go because for whatever reason I mentally checked out without even knowing it. Stony is a perfect example. I was ready to give the race up 2 weeks before it started because I had ACCEPTED I wasn’t going to PR. Halfway through the race I realized I could actually PR. Get a flat and lose 10 mins, what happens? I mentally check out because my timing to PR is blown. The entire run I’m miserable and just looking for an excuse to quit or walk. In the end I’m only 3 minutes behind my PR with the flat. Without the flat I would have had a huge PR, what a tragedy if I would have decided not to race. Even with the flat, what could I have done if I wouldn’t have mentally quit on the run? I was so sure I couldn’t do it. I thought I was too slow but I wasn’t. I was holding the exact pace I needed, but in my mind I needed to overcome a 10 min deficit, which wasn’t achievable, when in reality I only needed 3 minutes – something which was. What if.
In the future, I’m going to try my hardest to throw out my ill conceived race notions, they do nothing but damage the psyche. I’m going to believe in myself and my abilities, since I’m so quick to believe in other peoples abilities I might as well include my own. I’m going to fight for my race goals. Just because achieving them doesn’t result in a nifty transition bag doesn’t mean they’re not worth fighting for. In fact, they are what I should fight for. A bag gets kicked around and stuffed in a closet; pride in performing your best lasts forever.
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