 An
enlightened new approach to the challenge of triathlon training
in hectic modern life, by Brad
Kearns.
Book
Excerpts
Don't
Let Nobody Steal Your Joy
I
never obsessed about or even verbalized the time of 2:38, as that
could have been self-limiting. We have to be careful attaching
too much importance to time goals and results. When you attach
your performance to a time or a placing, you run the risk of limiting
your potential and enjoyment. If you achieved your goal, maybe
you could have gone faster but subconsciously limited yourself
because you nailed your goal. If you miss your time goal, you
risk artificial and illogical disappointment.
You
run a similar risk if you are attached to external recognition.
I remember one of my most dramatic races in high school track
– a huge upset victory where I passed six guys on the final
lap to win a 2-mile race in a new personal record. After the race
I went into the stands where my teammates high-fived me and celebrated
my victory. When I saw my girlfriend, she said, “Hey, how
did you do?”. She was in the bathroom talking to a friend
during the latter stages of the race! As you may imagine, it kind
of burst my bubble. Nevertheless, it was a valuable opportunity
to learn the lesson of foregiveness…I mean the lesson of
not attaching your happiness and satisfaction to the eyes of others!
As
comedian Martin Lawrence said in one of his movies, “Don’t
let nobody steal your joy”. If you are attached to external
judgments like time, place or validation from others, you are
vulnerable to getting psyched out by opponents, getting discouraged
when times or places don’t match expectation and limiting
your ultimate potential by the anxiety produced by your mind.
Fear
and Consumerism
While
most of us entered the sport with a healthy, relaxed approach,
a turning point typically occurs in response to competitive stimulus.
Once you finish a couple races with encouraging results, your
mind begins to whirl with the ‘more is better’ thinking
that is epidemic to the American culture. Corporate advertising
has fueled the most rabid consumerism in the history of the planet.
Our brains have been programmed since childhood to believe that
bigger and better equate to happiness – better job, bigger
office, bigger car, bigger house, bigger bank account, bigger
meal portions at fast food restaurants. Thus, it’s natural
to apply the same thinking and behavior to our triathlon career
– or anything else that we are doing.
Model
and yoga instructor Colleen Saidman said, “As a model, your
thrown into a completely materialistic world, where the answers
are ‘bigger, better and more’. But the real answers
are quieter and subtler.” Try replacing ‘model’
with ‘triathlete’ and reflecting on the quote. As
a professional competing for my groceries and house payment, it’s
a challenge to internalize this message. It’s hard to appreciate
the quiet, subtle lessons when I’m getting my butt kicked.
I prefer to learn the loud, dramatic lessons of victory! However,
upon reflection over my completed career, I realize a couple important
things:
- I
learned more profound and lasting lessons in defeat than in
victory
- When
my motivation was pure, I was able to perform at my peak
This ‘pure motivation’ concept is little understood
by the athletic world and certainly not the material world. The
saying, ‘that which you want most becomes the most difficult
to obtain’ often becomes relevant. When my motivations would
drift away from pure towards impure – focused on money,
media coverage, beating other athletes, etc. – it caused
me to make bad decisions.
Often
I forced my body to do workouts or improve at a rate faster than
was naturally meant to be. Or I would decide where to race based
on financial incentive rather than the ideal where and when to
deliver peak performance. In a sport where being off 2% from peak
means the difference between winning a large amount of money or
breaking even in 6th place, an impure motivation was devastating.
It’s
quite a bit more difficult for the triathlete to proceed along
this path than for someone in a yoga class. The sport is grueling,
highly competitive and results are graphic and dramatic. There
is tremendous momentum from peers and the outside world to achieve
and be recognized for tangible results. A pure motivation can
frequently get snuffed out as a result.
A
Catch-22 occurs because you can’t expect to just float to
the top on a fun cloud in any competitive arena. I was intensely
competitive and extremely driven to achieve my athletic goals,
or I would not have achieved them. However, one must find a balance
and strive to not become attached to results. It’s okay
to strive mightily for victory, but you have to walk away and
forget about it after the race is over.
Mental
Toughness is for Wimps
It
seems that most triathletes think the key to success is to follow
a consistent training schedule, have the best equipment and develop
the mystical “mental toughness” skills that enable
them to persevere when things get difficult in workouts or races.
Mental
toughness and confidence are things that fall into place naturally.
You can’t buy them or rub them on like a temporary tattoo.
They should not warrant the consideration that most triathletes
pay to it. Sure you can exercise a stubborn will out on the lava
fields (or any race course that seems like lava fields in the
latter stages!) and drag your battered body to the finish line.
What’s the big deal? For all but a small percentage of athletes
at the back of the pack for whom merely finishing is a true peak
performance, finishing a race for the sake of finishing can often
become more obsessive than honorable. It could be hard for many
readers to agree with this.
In
the rat race, someone who takes on the competition, increases
market share, brand awareness and profit margin is considered
a hero. Fight hard, never give up, be mentally tough and kill
your opponents. This stubborn will concept seems to be the main
theme of the business world and the self-help motivational books,
audio tapes, seminars from today’s leading gurus. Consequently,
it also seems to be the main redeeming quality and character lesson
from triathlon. This is thanks in no small part to the heavily
dramatized TV programs of triathlon and other sports.
It
was quite dramatic to see two-time Ironman defending champ Tim
DeBoom pass a kidney stone on the run course of the marathon during
the 2003 Hawaii Ironman TV program. I guess that tactless close-up
shot inside the ambulance makes for good TV, but it is not relevant
to his career as a champion athlete. He should be lauded and celebrated
for his victories, not his struggles. The same is true for Julie
Moss. Her crawl to the finish in the 1982 ironman finish put the
sport on the map and is burned in the memory of triathletes everywhere.
However, the most powerful memory I choose to have of Julie Moss
not her sprawled out on the pavement in Kona, it’s her storming
to the turnaround on the run course of the 1989 World Cup Australia
tri, on the way to her biggest victory and most amazing run of
her career.
While
it is powerful and inspiring to see triathletes struggle against
the odds and cross the finish line successfully, I don’t
think that struggle and suffering should be the central element
of your triathlon experience or the triathlon ideal. Most of the
people who are driven enough to get themselves into a predicament
like running 13 or 26 miles after several hours of swimming and
biking don’t really need to hone their stubborn will skills.
This
misuse of mental toughness may be a contributing factor to the
mediocrity epidemic. Apply mental toughness and a stubborn will
to conducting workouts that are intuitively wrong will fatigue
you and sabotage your fitness. Applying mental toughness and a
stubborn will to struggle to the finish line can often scar you
long term. Few will forget Mark Allen in the 1987 Ironman, where
his 4-minute lead at mile 22 of the marathon evaporated and he
struggled across the finish line 10 minutes behind Dave Scott,
looking dangerously exhausted and emaciated. He was suffering
from internal bleeding and rushed to the hospital, where he spent
several days recovering.
If
your compelling purpose in life is to win the Ironman, climb Mt.
Everest or make an NFL roster, it is definitely necessary to compromise
your health on the path to these goals. Few are inclined play
these high risk games. After all, the 5 people that die for every
100 that attempt Mt Everest (*MtEverest.net) is a real buzz kill.
If triathlon had a similar mortality rate, would you still be
a competitive triathlete? Even the most serious world-class amateur
competitor will hopefully agree that athletic pursuits are not
worth risking or compromising long-term health.
In
the early 80’s, a triathlete acquaintance of mine went to
a race in Mexico, where he pushed valiantly to finish an extremely
difficult course in steamy tropical conditions. He was overcome
by heat stroke at the finish line and hospitalized. While he lived
to tell the story and race another day, he sustained permanent
damage to his body. In future races where even moderate heat and
humidity were present, his cooling system would malfunction and
his body would shut down. His finishing the race in Mexico was
a brilliant display of mental toughness – deserving of an
award. But who wants to receive an award from a hospital bed?
When
I asked Lance Armstrong about his mental training/mental preparation
for competition, he revealed that he gave this little thought!
To Lance, the important thing is to do the physical work on the
road and live a life that is congruent with his purpose of winning
the Tour de France. If most triathletes were to take notice of
this message, they would likely suffer less in the races and perform
better. This would allow them to learn the important lessons of
competitive excellence and discard the superficial ones –
like how to struggle and push on with a stubborn will.
When
you train and live correctly, racing becomes less of a suffer-fest
and more of a peak performance experience that it ideally should
be. This revelation came to me at the very beginning of my endurance
athletic career. At the age of 14, on a whim, I entered a local
10k road race. Armed with a handful of 20-minute training jogs,
I toed the line and raced flat out for 6.2 miles. While I finished
in a respectable time of 38:47, I was shattered by the effort.
For most of the day, I was flat on my back suffering from an endless
wave of stomach cramps and nausea. This happened after several
more races, including during my first year as a high school cross
country runner.
As
I learned more about running and mixed with some elite athletes,
I was astonished to notice that they could race a flat-out 10k
and then go for a 3-mile cool down jog within minutes of finishing!
I had a similar amount of competitive drive to the elite runners,
but my experience of racing involved more pain and suffering of
the wrong kind. Only when I escalated my training and commitment
to an athletic lifestyle (like not eating a huge breakfast an
hour before races!) was I able to approach the sport like an athlete.
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