Regrouping after a disappointing race

A key race comes with a lot of emotional and physical investment. The hours spent training and mentally preparing are too numerous to count. Anticipating the event can cause moments of excitement nestled in an anxiety ridden wrapper. Thoughts of well executed training sessions are intermingled with memories of horrendous workouts. All of this momentum culminates in The Day – the months of hard work all come down to a few hours of racing. What happens if the race turns out like crap? How do you handle things if you don’t get to race at all due to illness or injury or in my case, cancelling out due to poor weather?

After I made the decision to not race CIM last weekend, I spent a few hours sulking and guiltily hoping that race day would turn out rainy and windy and horrible (it did). I thought about all of the hard workouts, the physical therapy, the interminable gym sessions and I felt dejected. My immediate thought was, “What a colossal waste of time”.

When I finally came to my senses, I realized that the training I put in for this race was not for naught. The fitness gains I made in running and the improvement in post-injury strength and functionality don’t get washed down the drain because I didn’t race. I will be able to build on the experience of training for this marathon and apply it to whatever athletic endeavor I choose next.

That is when I realized I needed to find another goal. Quickly. As a goal-driven athlete, more important than anything else is finding something and then going after it with vigor. Since the end of the year marathon ship has sailed, I am re-focused on running some local races with an eye on a fast half marathon early next year and ultimately qualifying for the 2016 marathon Olympic trials. Boom. Just like that my mind is at ease with new goals already in place.

Recovering from a race gone awry requires several steps:

1. Allow some time to wallow in disappointment. Put an actual limit on your brooding and adhere to it. Anything over 48 hours is unacceptable.
2. Focus on the positives of the lead up to the race. Whether it is gains in run speed, improved swim technique, or increased power on the bike there is always something positive to glean from a training block.
3. Enjoy the training for the sake of training. If training is a chore and un-fun, the disappointment of poor or missed races will be exacerbated. However, if training is social and enjoyable and the workouts themselves are used as mini tests of progress, there will be fewer feelings of discontent following a race that doesn’t pan out well.
4. Assess what went wrong. In the instance where a goal was missed, it is important to figure out what happened and apply that knowledge to future racing and training. Determine whether it was pacing, nutrition, over training, under training, a taper gone wrong or just a plain and simple bad day.
5. Pick a new goal. Unquestionably, finding a new focus is imperative. Having a concrete goal in the immediate future helps ease the frustration that comes with a race that does not live up to expectations.

DNS

Much ado has been made about the weather forecast for this weekend’s California International Marathon. I peeked at the 10 day forecast last weekend and saw that rain was imminent. As race day approached and the three weather sites I visited insisted that rain, wind, flooding and cold temperatures were almost 100 percent certain, I made the tough decision to cancel my plans to race.

My first reaction when I saw rain in the forecast was to carefully review my race from the LA marathon in 2011 which saw torrential rain and 50 degree temperatures. I was miserably cold that day and my hands were a color purple not normally seen in nature. I desperately wanted to stop at one of the many Starbucks on the route and pour a hot coffee over my head.

With that experience behind me, I hauled ass to REI and had an in-depth discussion about gloves with a knowledgeable and patient employee. I settled on a pair that is wet-suit like in nature and promised to make my hands pucker. I added a multitude of clothing options to my race-day attire, none of which would ultimately keep me warm or dry. With a wet-suit on my hands, I did consider using one for my body as well, but that is just crazy talk.

With race day looming closer and the weather looking more and more evil, I has some tough conversations. I decided to stay home instead of toeing the line. The rationale being this, with a limited number of really good marathons left in my legs: why waste one on a day that is already starting off unfavorably?

This is certainly not the attitude of most diehard runners. In past years when CIM experienced horrible conditions, only an additional 3% of racers were no-shows over the normal rate. But, my goal is not to simply finish the race. I want to run as fast as my training has dictated I can run. Running a PR in a marathon is difficult under ideal circumstances; the rain, wind and cold make this endeavor less probable, especially for someone like me who hates being cold.

It was not an easy choice, one that has left me awake at 2am and sent me to the computer to write this blog. But, Mark astutely pointed out, “At least there is nothing wrong with you. You aren’t sick or injured.” Ah, very true. In the past I have been faced with this very decision, race or not, because I was unsure if my body was up to the task. After months of rehab after rib surgery, there is no doubt about my fitness and health. And, no matter what, a DNS (did not start) is way better than a DNF (did not finish).

I can say unequivocally, the training for this race was fun. I relished the hard work it took to come back from surgery and start running fast again without pain. The marathon was meant to be the culmination of all of this hard work, a symbol to end this chapter of my life.

Now, I will take a small break from structured training and enjoy some jaunts around the trails with Diesel the Dog.

To all of the racers at CIM this weekend, stay warm and good luck.

The numbers game

Are you numbers obsessed?

On Sunday I am running the California International Marathon in Sacramento. I have a goal time, 2:40, which I have broken down into pace/mile, 10k splits and the half marathon time. Any way I look at it, the times are intimidating; I need to hold 6:07/mile, 38:00/10k and hit the half way point in 1:20. Just writing this makes my heart race a little. It is hard for me to wrap my head around these times for that long, even though my training and racing tells me this is not an impossible task.

And that brings me to my point. As athletes, we tend to get caught up in the numbers, creating a phenomenon that we have all experienced: number anxiety. The numbers can come from anywhere: the watts you want to hold on the bike, pace on the swim or run, a time standard that needs to be achieved, a finish time that will put you in contention to qualify for Kona or Vegas, breaking a barrier, such as a 3 hour marathon.

A concrete goal with an appropriate action plan has positive and negative ramifications. On the positive side, a tangible goal directs your training so that you can train with properly and race accordingly. The negatives? Well, that is the over planning and over thinking that invariably occurs.

There are ways to manage number anxiety in training and racing so you get the most out of your electronic devices without making yourself crazy.

The foremost way to prevent number anxiety is by not becoming number obsessed. By this I mean, don’t constantly stare at your numbers during a training session or race. Once you have established your number goal, look at your GPS or power meter periodically to make sure you are on target, but do not constantly check. The numbers are going to vary depending on the terrain, stride rate and pedal stroke. Take a peek now and then, but don’t fixate. It is distracting and can ultimately derail your workout or race. There is no way to hold the exact number, the best you can do is keep it in a tight range.

Download your power files and GPS data and analyze them after your workout or race. Since you only get a snapshot of your numbers during the workout or race, it is imperative to look at the whole picture afterwards. You can determine if you put out too many watts up the hill or if you ran a certain section too fast. Look for peaks and valleys in your workout or race and then try to smooth it out next time. There is a lot to learn from a data file and this is a process most athletes overlook.

If you are doing a longer race or workout, number anxiety is exacerbated by the very fact that you must hold those numbers for a very long time. A way around this daunting task is to break up the race or workout into intervals of a predetermined length. For example, an Ironman bike leg can be broken into 30 minute segments at a particular goal wattage with a 2-3 minute reset in between at 20-30 watts less. This short rest period is mentally and physically reinvigorating and should not have a detrimental impact on your overall bike time, especially if you can prevent the inevitable fade that happens to most people at the end of the bike.

Finally, it is important to learn to pace yourself by “feel”. With enough training by the numbers, you should be able to dial in your pace without even looking. Today I ran 2x2 mile race pace tempo efforts during my run. I checked my watch two or three times during each interval, but mostly, I wanted to make sure I could feel the pace without looking. My efforts were within 2 seconds of each other and were directly on goal race pace.

I recently went back and looked at my data from when I raced the California International Marathon last year. During last year’s race, I mentally broke it into 5k segments and checked my time and pace roughly at those intervals. I felt like I was holding a constant, comfortable pace throughout the race, and when I checked my watch it seemed like I was holding between 6:10 and 6:20.

My run file from CIM last year. Lots of ups and downs, but ultimately, I kept it fairly tight.

When I finally looked at the data file, I was amazed by the way my pace jumped around. Even though my 5k times were right on target, there was quite a bit of variation in my pace. Many of the low troughs are when I ran through a water stop; I took my time and made sure I had enough to drink. The other peaks and valleys correspond to the hills. The point is this: prior to the race I knew the pace I needed to hold to achieve my goal. I dialed it in with my training and on race day I ran the pace that felt right, periodically checking in with my GPS to make sure I was on target. Had I been a slave to the numbers, I would have been incredibly frustrated by the constant changes in pace throughout the race and this might have undermined my race. I avoided number anxiety by having confidence in my race plan, not relying on my GPS to carry me through the race, and breaking the race into manageable segments.

10 steps to a perfect race

I am a crossword puzzle and Scrabble fanatic; I love words. For that reason, the other day, for no other reason than mild curiosity, I entered “cool words” into Google to see what might pop up. To my utter surprise, there are actual websites dedicated to “cool words”. Some of the words are unusually long, while others just sound funny. Upon perusing one of the lists, I came across this word: syzygy. I was unfamiliar with this strangely spelled and hard to pronounce word and was interested in its definition. Syzygy, in astronomy, is a straight line configuration of three celestial bodies, the sun, the moon and the earth during a solar or lunar eclipse.  I thought more about this word and its relationship to triathlon and I realized that a perfect race requires syzygy.

Perfect races truly are as rare as an eclipse. In my career, part of what keeps me coming back for more, year after year, is the search for that perfect race. My count of perfect races is two. Two! Those are terrible odds when you consider the hundreds of races I have competed in over the years. However, when you consider all that can happen during a race –flat tire, GI distress, crappy weather, feeling tired, injury, illness, poor training, poor pacing – it is surprising that any race ever goes right. But, the notion of a perfect race is tantalizing and so I persist, yearning for a perfect day, a day where exogenous factors do not derail me and my body carries me through to the finish line in a personal best.

My first perfect race was the Chicago Triathlon in 1998. It was my rookie season as a professional and I had yet to attain a big result. On that humid August day, I had a breakthrough performance. I swam and biked with the leaders and started the run feeling like I was floating. As I reached the finish line area after the first lap of the four lap run, such was my anonymity, the announcer said “We have our first lady coming through. I’m not sure her name.  I’ll look that up and get back to you.”  Three laps later, I cruised across the line with my arms in air and a huge smile on my face. Yes, syzygy propelled to my first win as a professional. Nothing stood in my way that day, everything was in alignment.

That day seemed so easy. I had no idea, naïve as I was, how incredibly difficult it would be to match a day such as that one. My career was dotted with big achievements and other wins, but none were accompanied by syzygy.

It took ten years to find another race that would unfold with the flawlessness that leads to perfection.  That race was the 2008 Ironman 70.3 World Championships. An early season assault on qualifying for the Beijing Olympics ended prematurely when I didn’t make the team. I switched my focus to 70.3 races, arguably my best distance. With a few mid-season 70.3 wins under my belt, and a long stretch of confidence boosting workouts, I toed the line in Clearwater ready to race. Similar to my perfect day in Chicago, on this day, I swam and biked at the front of the race. Ten steps into the run I knew I was going to win. It never entered my mind otherwise, and I sailed through the race with that assurance. It was a record breaking day for me; there was no way of knowing that it was the harbinger of a career ending injury. Fortunately, though, no longer the naive rookie from a decade ago, I savored every single emotional moment of crossing the finish line first in a World Championship.

Here are 10 steps to achieve your perfect day:

1. Make sure you are well rested on race day
2. Get all of your equipment checked out
3. Decide on a nutritional plan and practice it in training
4. Don’t race sick or injured
5. Don’t get greedy in training and start overdoing it thereby leaving your race at home
6. Come up with a race plan and stick to it
7. Don't let nerves get in your way
8. Know the course
9. Mentally prepare for the perfect race through visualization
10. Have confidence

And, of course, it helps to have some race day syzygy on your side.

Rock 'n' Roll LA race report

My sister Laurie, me, Sari, Shana

The most popular costume at the Rock ‘n’ Roll Halloween LA half marathon, hands down, was a tutu. They came in all colors and sizes and I saw them on fast runners, slower runners, men, women, heavy set individuals and Skinny Minnie’s. Other people were more creative with their costumes, dressing as superheroes or Disney characters. I got into the Halloween spirit by dressing as a runner.

This dude had to be hot. It was 85 at the finish!

I used this race as a gauge of post-operative fitness leading into the California International Marathon. Studying the course profile prior to the race, I knew that the course would dictate my pace and that a steady effort and even splits would not be possible. My plan was to run fast on the down hills and maintain a solid effort on the up hills. A further potential difficulty was the small elite women’s field, of which I was the slowest runner, and finding a running partner. I knew there was a distinct possibility I would get caught in no man’s land and run the race alone.

Shortly after the gun went off, my fear of a solo effort were allayed when another runner engaged me in conversation.

Runner: Are you Joanna?

Me: Yes.

Runner: What are you planning on running?

Me: Hopefully 1:17.

Runner: I want to run 1:15, but let’s run together.

Me: Sounds great! What’s your name?

Runner: Taos. Like the city.

We reached the first mile in a very rapid 5:30ish and the second mile in about 5:45. Our conversation continued then.

Taos: Wow that was really fast.

Me: Don’t worry. We have to turn around and run back up this thing!

Taos: Oh, I didn’t think about that!

Needless to say, pace dramatically slowed. After reaching 5k in a swift 18:05, we retraced our path back up the road hitting the next 5k in 18:55, and the big hills hadn’t even started yet. Mile 6 to 7 was a terrible grind and I was elated to finally make the turn and start another downhill section. On the course profile, there is a tiny little bump around the turnaround at mile 9.5. In my mental preparation, I thought, “how bad can this little blip be?” When we rounded the corner and the bridge came into view, I realized that the tiny bump was not so tiny. I grunted my way over the bridge and was very happy to make the turn back down.

The only place I faltered was from mile 11 to 12. It was uphill, and my legs started to tire. Taos pulled away from me, but I decided I would use the downhill on last mile to try to catch back up, which eventually I did, until he dropped me with a few hundred meters left. Thanks for the pacing, Taos.

Rock ‘n’ Roll does a most impressive job with their races. The aid stations were well stocked, well placed, and well managed. The parking situation in the morning was seamless. I went for a post-race warm down jog on the front part of the course and witnessed the clean-up operation. Trucks were on hand to remove cones, clean up cups and wash the street. It was done methodically and quickly. All remnants of the race were gone in a flash.

The most important race feature though? Porta potties. They were everywhere. Thousands of them lined up like soldiers. No matter which way you turned, there were porta potties waiting for users, and not the usual lines of racers hopping impatiently from foot to foot looking at their watches, wondering why the person in the bathroom is taking so damn long (seriously, though, what does take so long? Reading the paper?).

And, thanks to race management, I procured some VIP bands for myself, my sister and the two other people that were with us. The VIP tent provided porta potties, a bag drop, plenty of drinks, and a fantastic post-race spread. The coffee was even tasty.

I ran a best time of 1:18.20. While this was a little off my goal pace, the course was hillier and hotter than I anticipated. The race did give me confidence for the marathon, though, and overall I am pleased with how the day unfolded.

7 steps to dealing with a chronic injury

Do you remember the book Flowers for Algernon? It is the story of a man with an IQ below 70 who undergoes an operation which triples his IQ. Over time, though, his IQ starts to drop and returns to its original level. I read the book way back in junior high, but I still vividly recall feeling compassion for this man who suffered so much. I cannot help but think about this story with regards to my injury. I had an operation which corrected a problem, but, a little part of me wonders if it is all too good to be true and my body will revert back to its pre-surgical state.

Long term injuries undoubtedly change a person; I know, at the very least, it changed me. While the injury itself was not psychological, there assuredly was a psychological component; injuries indeed wreak havoc on the mind as well as the body. Chronic pain, a failing body, and an inability to perform tasks that were once achievable all had a profound impact. Ten weeks have passed since surgery, and I am feeling like a new and improved model of myself, like a JZ 2.0. But. There is still dread and worry. Might the neuroma come back?

The fear is illogical, yet it still lingers. I am past the point of waking up in the morning and hoping it will be a good day. I have moved beyond hoping that I will be able to perform my run and swim workouts without pain getting in the way. I can lift heavy object, I can twist and turn, heck, I can even do pull ups, which is no small feat because I couldn’t even do them before the injury.

Despite reaching milestone after milestone, the little voice in my head still wonders if I will have the same fate as the man in Flowers for Algernon. I am not sure how much time has to pass before the thoughts dwindle into thin air.

Anyone who has faced an injury knows what I am talking about. The injury can be in your foot, but if you have a hangnail all of the sudden you are petrified the foot injury is back. The irrational thought process is this: at any moment, without warning, the injury will rear its ugly head. The problem is that athletes are controlling. We like to feel that we have control over our bodies, our workouts, and our destiny.  Injuries end up controlling us, a terrible turn of events that is hard to cope with. In fact, if the injury is serious enough or lasts long enough, an athlete can go through the five stages of grief: (1) denial, (2) anger, (3) grief, (4) depression, and (5) reintegration. I went through all five of those stages, sometimes all in one day.

I learned a lot during my tenure on the disabled list, that there is so much that can be done to make an injury less noxious and allow you to take back some control.

1.     It is imperative to get a proper diagnosis. This step cannot be ignored and can take a very long time. Until there is a diagnosis, it is difficult to treat the injury or know the long term prognosis. Don’t give up on this step, even if it means seeing or talking to multiple doctors. I interacted with over a dozen physicians before I found The One.
2.    Once you know what you are dealing with, make an action plan. Determine how long recovery should take. Read up on the injury until you are an expert.  You need to understand how it happened, how to make it better and how to prevent it in the future.
3.    Find good rehab therapists. Massages, acupuncture, PT all play an important role in recovery. I used all of those modalities with a lot of success.
4.    Be diligent with rehab exercises. I work on rehab every single day. I hate it. It works.
5.    Find other ways to get your exercise fix. One of the biggest problems with an injury is the inability to get the endorphins we love so much. Be creative and find other activities that you enjoy or somewhat enjoy and embrace it/them. Doing something is better than doing nothing. I despise walking, but I made it a huge part of my daily activities when I could not do anything else.
6.    Don’t ever give up. Long term injuries, by the very nature of their name, last for extended periods of time. It is easy to become disheartened and lose faith that there will be a conclusion.
7.    A positive attitude goes a long way in recovery. Believing in yourself, even when others do not believe in you, is probably the most pivotal step in the process. If you know you will get better, eventually you will.

Stand by your man? Not this time.

The Lance Armstrong saga had me riveted from the start. I watched agog as he swept the top step of the podium so many years in succession. I eagerly participated in the circular discussions of “did he or didn’t he dope.” On the one hand I wanted to believe his accolades came from the combination of God given talent and relentless hard work. But, on the other, as a professional athlete not only at the pinnacle of my sport but also privy to training regimens and heartache of countless Olympians and World Champions, I knew from the point of view of an insider, what he accomplished was not physiologically possible without pharmaceutical aid.

The speculation of decades of wins at the mercy of so many dopers finishing behind him has now been laid to rest. The verdict is in via USADA’s in depth analysis: Lance is guilty. This was not a revelation for me, but for many others this information was a slap in the face as a hero has fallen. There are still those doubters who insist he never failed a drug test so he must be innocent. Or those who want to give him a pass because he survived cancer and has become the disease’s most coveted spokesperson. Others paint a picture of a victim of a witch hunt, “leave him alone!” they say.

My opinions on the Armstrong case are strong and unwavering:  cheaters in sport deserve to pay their penance. In cycling, many great riders endured an exile from their sport for making the faulty decision to dope.  Why should Lance be above them? As a leader of the doping program on his cycling teams, his crimes were abundantly worse than the brave riders who came forward with their tales of drug use.

There are some that are still riding the coattails of the Lance Armstrong brand. This is what bothers me the most. With all of the cards on the table, the evidence is now irrefutable. By continuing to align with Lance, it sends the wrong kind of message to fledgling athletes; it is ok to cheat in sports as long as you have a compelling back story and then do something benevolent. Would Bernie Madoff’s crimes have been less heinous if he had been a charitable sporting hero? I think the hundreds of scammed people who lost millions of dollars would not give Madoff a pass under any conditions. Yet, Armstrong’s years of fraud are not any different. He scammed companies out of sponsorship dollars. He scammed riders out of prize money. He scammed riders that wanted to race clean. He scammed the hearts of the general public who viewed him with awe and wonder. It is incongruous to be anti-drug and laud Lance.

You may take my comments as unduly harsh. They aren't. Drugs and sports have been contentious partners for decades. Undoing this illicit partnership cannot occur without making changes, and changes have to occur at the very highest level. Exposing Lance and his systematic doping program sends a blatant message: eventually you will pay the price for dishonest activities. USADA has been called all sorts of unseemly names and their actions have been described as unconstitutional. I applaud USADA’s efforts. It was not in the best interest of American sports to bring down an international hero, yet they forged on to grab hold of the truth. Undoubtedly, there are flaws in the USADA system, but every organization has its faults. Ultimately, they did what they were mandated to do: catch drug cheats.

It is always a sad day when the skeleton’s in an icon’s closet are paraded around in the public eye. Tiger Woods, Marion Jones, Barry Bonds, Mark McGuire, Michael Vick. The ones that confessed have been able to pick up the pieces and resume their stature, albeit wounded. So, to Lance I say this: please, come forward and confess; it will make the end of the movie so much better.