Swim – Jackie Chan
The start of the swim was your normal washing-machine-on-high-speed-affair. Even though it’d been a year, I felt surprisingly calm and mentally/physically ready for it. But clearly, I wasn’t. Two minutes into I felt like I was on the wrong end of a Jackie Chan movie, getting my ass handed to me. It was very physical, and I kind of freaked out. I had my first ever mini panic attack. I had trouble breathing, I slowed down, and got dropped. I swam the last half of the swim completely solo, just trying to stay calm. Pissed and tired, I worried my race was over, coming out of the water 2+ minutes behind Callum Milward and Andrew Starykowicz and 30 seconds behind Leon Griffin, the guys I was keying off of.
Run 1 – IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, WHAT IS HAPPENING?!?!
That’s what my body said to me as I ran the hardest I’ve run in a year for two very hilly miles. I could see Leon in front of me and instinctively tried to close the gap. It hurt really bad, everywhere. But on the bright side, it kept me from thinking solely about my foot. I closed within 10 seconds of Leon and jumped on my Shiv. Here we go.
Bike – So Very Tired
I could see Andrew just 10 seconds up when I started the bike and had a decision to make, do I try to ride with the fastest cyclist in the triathlon history? I made the decision about 37 seconds later when, pedaling as hard as I could, he pulled away from me, even with a dropped seat post. For the next 15 miles I honestly struggled to stay with Leon and Callum as we watched Andrew eventually pedal out of sight. My legs were wrecked, from just a two mile run. That wasn’t good. I was happy that I was already in the top 5, but given how I felt, still doubtful I could make it through the race.
The Racer’s Mindset
Around mile 30, my legs started to feel a bit better. We took the middle section relatively easy and I got in a lot of water, OSMO, and a Picky Bar. Thinking back, it was during this few miles that, somewhat unconsciously, my racer’s mentality kicked in. Given the leadup and uncertainty going into this race, I could have been content to be conservative, stay put, and go for a podium. For a few moments though, all thoughts of the past faded away, and my mind instinctively started thinking about how to win. And I realized that if I wanted to win, I had to make a move, and I had to do it now. So I went.
I rode the last 20 miles without looking back. From what I can tell on Strava, I rode this section almost 2 minutes faster than I have in previous years. It was risky, it hurt, and there was a lot of doubt, but I just did it. I had Justin Timberlake in my head so it was all good. I came into T2 about 2.5 minutes behind Andrew with an unknown gap to Callum and Leon.
Run – A Promise to Lauren
When I decided to race, a decision I made finally on the Sunday before, I promised Lauren that if my foot hurt on the run, I would pull out. She made me repeat that promise again as the last thing I said to her before I left that morning. So when I came into T2, I took a deep breath, put on my trainers, not my racers, and told myself I was headed out for a long run. I disassociated myself from the race. I had to be completely conscious of what my body was going through. I couldn’t let the race push me through another setback. I promised.
And, not surprisingly, I felt pretty terrible. Almost every step. My body clearly wasn’t prepared for this effort and continually told me so. I started cramping about 10 minutes in, my hamstring, then my quad. When I did, I slowed way down and hobbled through it, worried that if I stopped I might not be able to start. I walked through aid stations and the steepest parts of the hills. It was ugly. But my foot held steady, and that’s all that mattered. That’s all I would let myself think about. Long Run.
Actually, I Do Want to Win
I passed Andrew about mile 6, and moved into the lead. And within the next few minutes the emotional wall started to crumble. I was so happy to be racing so well considering the doubt I had going into the race, but I was also so fearful of losing it all. What I let myself realize for the first time was that I really, really wanted to win. I think I knew it deep down all along, but I didn’t let myself think about it as a possibility, because it would to be too difficult to have and then to lose. It did matter to me to be the first “4peat” winner, but more importantly, it mattered to me to prove to myself that I was back, that my career wasn’t over, and that after a year of setbacks, disappointments, and doubt, I could once again return to the sport I love.
So instead of being excited, I got scared. I was only 4 miles away from this amazing possibility, but every couple of minutes I’d cramp and come close to walking. I still worried about my foot. I had no idea how close Leon or Callum were. It was 100% fear.
Thoughts of Encouragement
But like I said above, I got through it a step at a time by combating each negative thought with words of encouragement from you guys, my coach, my sponsors, and my friends. And as I got closer, and the chance of winning grew, I thought mostly about Jude and Lauren. I thought about how much my life had changed since the last time I raced and how badly I wanted to win this race for them, to show something for the support and happiness they’d brought me over the tough last year. That’s what got me through, all the way up the last hill, and down the hill that broke my foot a year before.
As I rounded the corner into the finish chute, I saw Lauren and Jude and started crying. It was so bizarre. Lauren told me a few weeks ago – when it was still an outside chance I’d be able to race – that she had a dream that I crossed the Wildflower finish line crying. She said she didn’t know what place I was in, or how I did, but that I was just so happy to finish. And really, that’s how I felt. So happy to finish. And while I’m sure I still have many ups and downs to come, I felt the emotional weight of the last 12 months of struggle lift from my shoulders. About 20 meters before the finish, I literally felt lighter, and finally let myself celebrate. I crossed the line ecstatic, to “Hey Jude” playing in the background. One of the coolest moments of my life.