Move past, move on, enjoy the scenery

About a month after the fun in Williamsburg at the Rev3 Olympic Race, I traveled into the Pocono Mountains for a half distance triathlon (70.3) also held by Rev3. This was going to be an interesting race for me, as it will be the first time really climbing, and more importantly, descending since my crash in early 2016. To say I was nervous would be a big understatement but thankfully, my girlfriend Lori was making the trip with me.  

So let’s recap here for some context. At the end of May of 2016, while descending in the mountains

My collarbone afterwards

during a training ride, I crashed while rolling into a left turn.  Long story short, I was not able to slow down and slid out, rolling into the treeline. I walked away with a broken collarbone, punctured lung, concussion and broken (or very bruised) ribs. Since that time, the closest I came to descending was while riding my mountain bike. The hills I faced during that ride was causing a lot of anxieties but slowly, as the season started, I was overcoming them. Fast forward to the present and here I am, driving my car up a road that has no shoulder, a steep descent and a turn just like the one I crashed on. All of which was part of the course of the upcoming race; one of these turns was conveniently placed at the start of race course.

We arrived, got settled into our room and already I was feeling a lot of anxiety. We hit the lakeside bar and headed out to eat. Saturday morning, I went out to complete my shakeout workouts. I tried to ride the bike down the road we came in on, since that is where the turn I was dreading is located. The reason why I wanted to ride that is summed up well in this quote by Jim Morrison: “Expose yourself to your deepest fear; after that, fear has no power, and the fear of freedom shrinks and vanishes. You are free”.

There turned out to be a problem with my plan:  This road is not wide, has no shoulder and it was not closed to traffic. I went down the first hill with a car right on my rear wheel which really freaked me out. So I turned around, rode around the resort a bit, then dropped my bike off at transition in order to run. The run helped my nerves, but I was glad to be finished so we could make plans to take my mind off the race. Later that day, we drove to the outlet malls nearby. Walking around and spending time with Lori really helped.

By Saturday night, I could not get over the anxiety. I had a beer (or two) and that did not help. I tried to keep my mind on other things but that did not help. As such, when Sunday morning arrived, I woke up in a full on panic attack. I really was considering not competing in the race. What it came down to was if i decided not to race, could I look Lori in the eye, or for that matter, could I look at myself in the mirror? I told Lori what was going on in my head and how bad my stomach was feeling. Talking with her was a huge help. Our talk convinced me to start moving. I began to gather my stuff, get dressed and tried to eat something. NOPE! That was a mistake. Shortly after, we made our way out of the lodge and towards transition.

 

Lori keeping me smiling

Upon arriving at transition, I set everything up and began my warm-up run. I was pretty much operating on autopilot and just going through the motions. The warm-up itself went well and upon returning to transition, I grabbed my goggles, cap and Xterra Vortex sleeveless wetsuit, then headed to meet Lori to walk over the swim start. Briefly, I considered completing a warm-up swim, but honestly I just didn’t feel like it because I was fighting an overwhelming battle with my anxiety.  I was so thankful to have Lori by my side to help me fight back the anxiety. It was little things that helped: making me laugh and just chatting. That made a big difference. The swim start was a first come, first go start. I was not paying attention and wound up at the back of the line. Well that’s great, now I have to fight through crowds; oh well! I zipped up my suit, found my place in line and looked over to Lori a last few times. Each time my nerves got better and slowly I fell into race mode.

As I made my way down the dock to “slide” into the water, (no jumping or diving, it was shallow and

Swim start

deep mud) my mind went blank.  I started looking out at the water, and for lack of better words, instincts took over. Once I was in the water it was game on. This swim felt effortless, the worry about starting at the back of the pack was for nothing. I had noticed before I started, that the crowds were hugging the buoys. As such, I stuck to the outside and had open water most of the way. Since I was on the outside, I aimed at an angle to the last buoy and my sighting was right on. I used this method this for the other three turns and it worked out well, hitting each buoy in stride. There was a bit of a bottleneck during the last leg and at the swim exit ( two ladders on a floating dock) but overall I knew this was a good swim. I did not realize how good.

Swim 28:35, a personal records at this distance with no current assistance.

I jogged up the street to transition and things were feeling good. I was trying my best to not think about what was to come. Wetsuit came right off and the transition was going good until I went to mount the bike. There was a steep hill right after the mount line so I decided to slide one foot into a shoe right away and then once up the hill, slide the other foot in. Normally I put my feet on top of my shoes and once I am underway and with momentum, I slide my feet in. As I began to put my food into the left shoe, I realized that the shoe was on the wrong side; really Frager? Ugh. Quickly, I pulled the shoes off, drop them to the ground, slid my feet into the correct shoe and mounted the bike. Once clipped in, I stormed up the hill. I cannot believe I made that mistake, but I am proud of myself for dealing with the problem and not getting mad at myself.  I only lost a little time because of that mistake.

T1 0:02:26

The climb right out of transition

After that first climb, there was a few rollers to the first real descent. My anxiety was starting to build but I kept my hands on the bullhorns and a finger on each brake. The second descent was the one that had me freaked. I rolled right through it with no problem. It was like a wave washed all my anxiety away; I was back to my old self...well almost. During the rest of the descent down Lake Harmony Road, I was in the aero bars with a smile starting to grow across my face.

One highlight of this race was within the first 8 miles you completed a loop (of sorts) on the Pocono Speedway. As that approached, I was completely back into my element. Rolling through gate 2, I started to make racecar sounds. Yep, I was that guy. Everyone I passed, I encouraged to join me, and to my surprise, many did. The track was so fast, I was flying with no effort. It was a blast and man I wish I could ride my FTP test on that, LOL. Roughly, the next 15 miles was pretty flat. Thanks to the roads being open to vehicles, there were some scary traffic issues. The course made a loop back to Lake Harmony Road, and at the point, the Olympic racers turned right and had the climb back to transition. Those of us competing in the half started what would be close to 25 miles of climbing. It started almost right away, I was successful at keeping the watts low on the front half of the course and as it turned out, I was glad I did. We climbed and climbed, long steady climbs where my speed would drop to 5 MPH. Then we would get to descend a bit, just enough to let the legs recover only to start start climbing again. By mile 50, my quads started to cramp on the uphills and if I tried to stand, they locked up. I did my best to manage the pain and as I closed into transition, the legs started to feel better. Then, maybe a quarter mile from transition, the sadistic bastard who designed the course put one last short steep climb (10% grade). OMG, if I could have gotten my hands on that person... it freaking killed my legs. I rolled into T2 with a lot of pain and looked at Lori and just shook my head, telling her, “That sucked!”

Upside is I conquered my fears, put my anxieties behind me and found a piece of myself again. The downside, SHIT, my legs hurt, LOL

Bike 2:53:00 (3012 feet of elevation)

Racking the Bike in T2

Transition 2 I took a bit easy. I put my socks and Salming Distance 5 shoes on, then made my way out the run exit. Even with my quads feeling like crap, I still was happy with the time.

T2 0:01:25

The run course was four laps on some “rolling” terrain. Right after T2 there was a long, steep uphill (up to a 17% grade). My plan coming into the race was to walk the hills, and I was glad I stuck with that plan. Immediately, I took a hit of the Base Salt and followed the recommendation of taking a hit every mile, and man did it work. By mile 2 the cramps went away. After that, I would walk all the major inclines and run the descents and flats. When I was on even ground, my legs would feel great and I even had a sub 8 minute mile or two over the first two laps. Third loop I walked the two big hills and tried to run the smaller ones but my legs were not having it. By the fourth lap, I continued the trend of walking the big hills but after the second one, I turned the hat around and tried to push hard to the end. As I ran hard, I tried to keep reserves for the final hill and push to the finish. I tried to run the last hill, but once again, my legs said, “No!” This objection by my legs was not due to an endurance issue, as proved by how I ran on flat ground, but due to the amount of climbing which really kicked my ass. There really is no other way to make that point. As I came to the finish, Lori was right where I hoped she would be standing. She was where we discussed she should wait so she could run to the finish with me. I grabbed her hand and we made our way down the finishing chute.

Run 1:53:14 (971 feet of elevation)

Overall 5:18:34, 4th age group, 33rd overall.

This was my slowest times for this distance. That said, taking the course into consideration and compared to the athletes I competed with, I am very pleased with the time. I think I did a good job managing this course under the circumstances and course elevation.

The anxiety and depression was no joke and if you suffer from it, you understand. It is not just a mind over matter thing, it is a down right fight. A fight that easily could have gone the other way. I am so grateful for the people in my life that were on site with me and for the people who could not make the trip. They all helped in a way to get me to that finish line. Let me take a moment to say, please do not dismiss people who suffer from anxiety and depression. They are not something you can just get over, put aside or let go. Dealing with anxiety and depression is a fight. A fight you do not always win. Dealing with them is something to not be ashamed of. Those battles are who you are and they have made you into what you are today. Own it, embrace it and learn the triggers that bring it on and help you get past it. That knowledge will help you manage it the best you can.

Lori, Thank you! I cannot thank you enough. You stood by me, helped me get ready, helped me stay focused and you bought me a beer while I sat in the room recovering in my Normatec boots. You are simply amazing and I am so lucky to have you in my life.

Visiting the Damn before heading home

A big thank you to Salming Running and Base Performance for all of their support. Thanks to the Snapple Tri Club along with their amazing sponsors for helping with great gear. To my coach Adam Otstot for all his guidance. Thank you to Thompson Healthcare and Sports Medicine for continuing to help me stay race ready. And last but not least, I want to thank all my family and friends for all the support.

Next up is my final tri of the season and what I am considering my “A” race. Ironman 70.3 Atlantic City.

I would also like to take an opportunity to announce that I have been selected to join the MOJO Race Team and Love the Pain, Inc. They are makers of world class multi-sport apparel. Design, tested and Made in the USA.