Dirty Inspirations

The longer you go, the more critical your need to embrace your mental game. Having your goals laid out and your self-talk dialed in will not just help you have a faster time, they may make or break your ability to finish a race of novel distance.

When you train or race for several hours or more, you have no choice but to keep yourself company in your mind. You can be the negative, energy-sucking training partner, or you can be the helpful, rational training partner. The time you spend, or not, refining your mental game will decide who shows up in your head on race day.

Just about anyone can get through a sprint- or international-distance race with the negative training partner chatting in their head, but it takes a mentally trained athlete to dial that self-talk to positive or rational for 5, 7, or 15 hours. Dial in your mental game, and you’ll be assured to embrace an effective mental companion come race day.

One of my clients, Jill, decided to run her first 50K trail race and she summarized her experience with the following observations: “The mental capacity needed to complete this type of endurance event is monumental. The conversations you have with yourself are fascinating, from all perspectives: ‘This is great.’ ‘Now it isn’t.’ ‘That hurts.’ ‘Now it doesn’t.’ ‘Can I finish?’ ‘I can do this!’ ‘Look at that, how beautiful.’ ‘Did I really sign up for this?’ ‘Paid for this, no less.’ ‘I’m so lucky to be out here.’ ‘I could be sitting in an office staring at a computer.’

“It’s very easy to think ‘I could be done right about now.’ The funny thing is…there’s no where to go but forward. So…you go. And go, and go some more. In the end, the reward is beyond measure. Sure the medal and t-shirt are cool, but the sense of accomplishment is quite unexpected. You relive each segment of the race and begin to remember the smallest details about the foliage, the terrain, the people, the snacks, the weather, the sounds, and the feeling. You then realize what you just did and smile.”

Embracing your mental game will offer you the possibility of walking away from all events with a strong sense of personal satisfaction. Ignore your mental game, and a bad day on the roads can turn into what my adventure racing teammate so aptly observes, “A whole lotta pain and suffering.”

When going longer than you have gone before in your sport, do not fear the distance, admire it. And in that, respect yourself for taking on that distance. Celebrate your choice to step up to the line of a difficult event. You are selecting an endeavor most people would never entertain. Congratulations, you’re opting to move away from your comfort zone and learn a great deal.

Any athlete who has chosen to go longer can attest to their getting seriously humbled. If I ever find that I’m a bit too full of my grand fitness or strength, I quietly remind myself of the remaining distance in my race. My first Wasatch 100 trail running race, I felt fresh and strong on the 4000-foot, several-mile climb off the starting line. When noticing my aggressive pace, I immediately reprimanded myself, “Terri, you have 98 miles to go–slow down!” Now that is a quality reality check when going long.

Revel in the distance you are covering, and be humbled by the distance you are covering. These reminders will keep that distance in perfect balance with your race plan.

In considering going longer, adapting–to training, lifestyle changes, cold water, and more–isn’t just a perk that can help you get faster and be on top of your mental game, it’s a requirement. In going longer, you either adapt or you fail.

If you’ve done an endurance sport, you know that it’s common to have difficult issues pop up–crashing on your bike, getting kicked in the face during the swim, getting blisters on the run, and so on. The longer the event, the longer the list can become.

The longer you race or train, the longer you are asking your body and mind to engage in some really tough forward movement. An Ironman isn’t twice as hard as a half-Ironman, it is exponentially as tough. If you’re racing a 7-hour half-Ironman event, you don’t just need a bit more food and water than you do for an international distance race, you need a lot more, and you need to refine your calorie intake to meet the demands of the distance.

To go longer, you need to learn to emotionally shrug off environmental discomfort and deal with it rationally, because 14, 15, or 17 hours are too long to be pissed off at the heat and wind. You are required to adapt to significant structural discomfort and mental struggle. These become part of your everyday existence in training, and you adapt to move with them and not fight them. 

From: Triathlon Revolution: Training, Technique and Inspiration

Many people do endurance sport because it tests their resolve. They get value from those tests–information about strengths and clarity on weaknesses. Taking on an event that is longer than anything you’ve done before places you on the stage of the unknown. This can be a scary place, but if you are methodical and intelligent, you can manage that fear and move into your test with some sense of belief you can achieve. You may ponder, “Am I good enough?” When going long, the answers are loud and clear.

The people who choose to step onto that unknown stage and perform know the value in taking risks. Each long day of training or racing sets a new stage, a new opportunity, a new view of self, a higher value. There is significant value to going longer than you’ve gone before, and those who have know this. Those who seek going longer, sense it, and may build their own opportunities to go longer.

“Going Longer” in Perspective

When considering taking your race distance up a notch, you need to embrace this change with eyes wide open. Going longer will not only place demands on your time, it will require you to change up your perspective on your sport in various ways. Over the next several weeks I’ll offer a few critical perspectives to consider when looking at going longer. Stay tuned!

- from: Triathlon Revolution: Training, Technique and Inspiration

Unless you live in an area where training outside may be unsafe due to snow, ice, or extreme weather, there is no reason to not get outside. A bit chilly? Wear the proper clothing to accommodate for cold or wind chill. Raining? You get wet anyway when you are swimming, so what’s the issue? The plethora of high-tech clothing and shoes leaves you with no excuse to stay indoors on winter weekends, and chances are, you may have the roads or trails to yourself!

If you are consistent, steady, and disciplined, you will have a long, strong base come March and be in position to add speed to your program. Remember, after some downtime, it will take a while for you to get back into your usual routine and you may slip up and miss workouts more than you do during the season. Take the pressure off, enjoy your easy time on the roads, and you’ll be back up to speed in no time.

If your training is intelligently structured, you will hit your first spring event ready to race with a solid core of strength. The more engaged you are with your playtime and your off-season training, the more enjoyable that first season race will be.

For over 25 years I’ve coached hundreds of athletes to help them reach life changing goals and there is one thing that has stood out the most. That enduring in our training to attain fitness not only gives us those rewarding finish line experiences, it is the most valuable action we can take to attain a healthy life in total. If all of our material “stuff” is ultimately stripped away and we still have our heath and mental well being – our families will remain rich indeed.

Now more than ever it is critical that we invest in a process that will offer us the resiliency and ability to adapt in these changing times. I encourage you to sign up for that fitness class, race, or gym membership in ’09. Don’t pull back funds toward your fitness and well being – they are your most valuable possessions.

But don’t stop there! Use this transition time to evaluate what is important in your life and your work. Take a class or seminar to increase your skill level, volunteer to support those less fortunate, offer your strength to friends and loved ones, or initiate a new program that can give value to your community. Our introspection and subsequent growth in these challenging times can be cathartic if we allow it. All the while invest in and sustain your fitness and health.

Embrace the current challenges by taking action and I’ll bet that you’ll engage in some quality, life changing introspection in ’09.

I’d love to hear how that plays out for you,

Terri

I so envied my friends braving storms, sea sickness and running in several feet of fresh snow that to ease my mind for not being able to partake in my Antarctic adventure I re-read the detailed radiologists’ report of my Achilles tendon MRI. This was a sure way to once and for all rid myself of ridiculous self pity and rejoin the road to reality. Having a fair amount of schooling in anatomy I deciphered enough info to feel some significant anatomical shock and awe.

In short, the whole foot/ankle lower calf area resembles a war zone in Bagdad with no intermittent electricity perks. Between signs of past damage, ongoing damage, and the current issues, it might be prudent to hack my leg off about mid calf and start over with a bionic one. An aside: I must disclose a bizarre fantasy I’ve had while running (pre-MRI). I look for other runners with a natural and healthy looking gait and wonder what it would be like to hijack their left Achilles. What if my left Achilles could feel as solid as my right one does? What running I could accomplish in far off lands!

But then I wake up, review the radiology speak and realize that I’m married to a leg which is an elaborate road map of pain and destruction. Tearing, partial tearing, fluid build up, bursitis, plantar fasciitis, old tears, new ones, atrophy due to prolonged tendonitis. They even unveil damage done “from a probable ankle sprain”.

I remember that sprain acquired several years ago while running fast down a narrow circuitous trail during an adventure race. Taking a turn a bit too fast I broke loose the outside of the path (and my ankle) and went down as if getting bucked off a bronco. After clawing my way back up the hillside to the worried looks of my teammates I sat down hard, feeling like I was going to puke.

I’ve only experienced this post-injury-turning-white-as-a-sheet-puke-feeling a few times in my life (its called shock…). One other time was doing a sideways triple flip off my road bike on a high speed decent after my front tire blew in a corner. Along with some impressive road rash and a few other issues, I tore cartilage in my wrist. I never wear a watch on my road bike (athletic pet peeve #74) but for some reason that day I put one on. When I got home I noticed that the entire face of the watch had been sliced away by road impact. Though the wrist was internally injured the watch no doubt saved me from a significant wrist defacing.

Just as I got back on my bike post crash and rode the 50 miles back to my house (because my brain is programmed that way), I got up and tried to continue in the adventure race post ankle blow out. My leg swelled considerably. I responded by tying my shoe tighter. What wasn’t to be ignored was the full year it took to get the ankle 100% solid. Not that any unsolidness stopped me from training and racing on it.

Years later with proof that I had in fact torn a bunch of stuff in that ankle with my fall I still can admit I don’t think I would have done anything differently. Is this ignorant? Hubris? Delusional? Perhaps, but as all hard core endurance athletes with a high pain tolerance can attest there is some remote virtue in pushing ‘past’. Past notions of pain, past nature’s obstacles and mostly past the voices in our mind that say “you can’t”. Endurance athletes ride the fence of being our own hero of ‘pushing past’ or, succumbing to the sometimes-wisdom of deciding to come up short. Creating a satisfying sporting life within this truth is part of the art of training and racing.

In adventure racing a bright navigator makes sound educated nav decisions while, at times intuitively rolling the dice. If this process is done holistically well (taking everything that he knows into consideration at any moment), he makes the right call about 85-90% of the time. With my team, the other 15% of the time generated the most memorable “wild rides” I’ve experienced in adventure as well as top notch learning experiences.

With my Achilles issue I’ve been pushing past for a very long time while learning to manage the issue well enough to hit that 15% failure rate. Does that make me a dumb athlete? No. Actually if we assess our options frequently and with logic we will develop an important respectful relationship with our body, ease our minds, and make decisions that are mostly correct. Mostly correct isn’t so bad in a lifetime of sport. If we choose to play hard we may be required to visit 15% failure now and then.

My ankle has seen better days and will see better ones ahead. But the tough days and places it did see are vast and valuable and I can’t say I’d change how it played out. My challenge now is to sort out living in the 15% failure zone – a definite opportunity to see how smart I REALLY am as an athlete.

That said, I still envy all runners I see galloping down trails, but I’m starting to refocus on moving forward. Juices are flowing again and ideas forming… I’m not that good at baby steps so expect some big ones in the coming weeks….Terri

Friday, November 28 is National Day of Listening initiated this year by the founder of StoryCorps which is aired each week on NPR (National Public Radio).

StoryCorps is an independent nonprofit that has helped more than 40,000 Americans record their stories. It is one of the largest oral history projects of its kind, and is their mission to help people honor and celebrate one another’s lives through listening.

Here’s their goal for this first annual:

This holiday season, ask the people around you about their lives — it could be your grandmother, a teacher, or someone from the neighborhood. By listening to their stories, you will be telling them that they matter and they won’t ever be forgotten. It may be the most meaningful time you spend this year.

You can preserve the interview using tape recorders, computers, video cameras or a pen and paper. Or use StoryCorps free Do-It-Yourself Guide. It is easy to use and will prepare you and your interview partner to record a memorable conversation.

Two of the greatest gifts we can give to those we care about don’t cost a dime! They are our time and our ear. Take an hour out of your week and listen to someone you love. I’ll bet you may see bits of yourself in the interview – a mirror reflection of sorts…if you peek. I’m going to interview my 79 year old mom. I’ll let you know how it goes.
Terri

My new book, Triathlon Revolution: Training, Technique and Inspiration, has hit the stores and I kicked off a slew of upcoming book signings right here in Santa Cruz at Capitola Book Café. A fun night indeed. Check my website for a signing in your area. I’d love to meet you and get your feedback!

To entice you to check out the book, here’s a piece taken from the Intro:

Triathletes as Heroes

I have been asked many times who my heroes are in sport. In our society we often associate “hero” as being someone who has accomplished some monumental feat or has unusual talent or vigor beyond the norm for what they take on in life. Yet regular folks and middle-of-the-pack athletes have just as much emotionally riding on their accomplishments as do the inherently talented. Their road to success can often be even more vigorous than those for which it comes a bit easier.

The significance of getting a personal record in your 5K or completing your first triathlon is as much of a champion move in your world as it is for Tiger Woods to bring in another million. We all find value and satisfaction in our accomplishments. How and why we get there may just look a bit different.

As a young girl I was intrigued with professional athletes, just like any kid, but I realized that true heroic feats were happening all around me–daily, by people struggling to do life while going after their dreams. My father worked two jobs to support a family of seven while going to school to get his degree so he could advance in his career. He taught me that no matter what we choose in life, we go after with dignity and hard work and then we can respect ourselves. We can be our own hero.

The world is a tough place, and if you throw voluntary physical duress into your daily repertoire in order to offer your kids a stronger vision of humanity, I’d say that is a heroic decision. As I matured as an athlete, this picture of the everyman-hero became clearer.

In 1993, I coached a group of fifteen women who were interested in competing in the Danskin Women’s Triathlon in San Jose, California. These women became my first sports heroes. Some of them didn’t know how to swim. Others borrowed bikes for the occasion. A few had never run. All were moms with jobs and full lives.
In eight weeks, all fifteen crossed the finish line via life-altering experiences. For some, it was the first time they had given themselves a gift worth coveting– self-confidence. I admired them for stepping into the unknown in their lives to examine themselves. What they found was more woman than they imagined.

This concept that had eluded them prior seemed to come to me naturally–you want something, go after it. In many ways it felt easy, and I drew strength from making these choices regularly. But I saw the magnitude of their initial fear and struggle and their choice to follow through with their goal. That was heroic. If that vision of “hero” rings true in your world, then you’ll see that the sport of triathlon is full of them. If you don’t believe me, look in the mirror.

(from Triathlon Revolution, terri schneider)