Failure is Healthy

Starting over is hard. So is failing. Doing both, and getting up again, is even tougher.

In 2009 I completed my first half-ironman in 5:38. My brother Wes and I completed that event with our family watching and crossed the finish line feeling strong. I knew that in 3 short weeks I had Steelhead coming up, but also knew that a 5:15 at Steelhead wasn’t out of the question and I was going to shoot for it. What’s that thing they say about plans? I don’t remember, but my plan went to hell.

The day started with 800mg of caffeine after having had none for 2 weeks. The water was also particularly rough with fairly high waves. The combination of a queasy stomach and rough waters was classic bad. I had a PR for the swim but running onto the beach started throwing up. For roughly 5 minutes. As you can imagine, throwing up off a swim has a way of ruining a day but I continued onto the bike.

Once on the bike I started off strong but was at this point extremely dehydrated and in a serious caloric deficit. I tried to eat/drink but every time I did, it came right back up. At one point I threw up so hard on the bike that I closed my eyes, hit a pot hole, and blew out my front tire. As I sat by the side of the road changing the inner tube on my bike, all I could think was, “Really?”. I had simply never had such a bad race.

I managed to finish the bike and headed out on the run but in much worse shape then I had been three hours earlier. Besides being dehydrated and starving, I was experiencing the pains of what I would later discover was a stress fracture. Despite feeling beyond awful, I don’t ever remember feeling like I should have quit. Not once. That would come later.

I finished in 6:35, firmly in the bottom 1/3 of the field. My worst finish since I had started the “Taking Sexy Back” challenge almost two years earlier. After training for 7 months for an A race, and just so completely blowing it, I was devastated. Using my bum foot as an excuse, it would be almost 4 months before I did any training again and 5 months before my next race.

So, 7 months later, what have I learned? You’re stronger than you think you are, and you’re weaker than you think you are. In the one sense, I could have given up completely, either during the race or after the race. But I didn’t. I was tougher than I thought. In another sense, I really let that race get me down. I spent months in a funk. I was weaker (mentally) than I thought.

This year I signed up for my first Ironman distance race, the Rev3 at Cedar Point. I also have a pretty aggressive race schedule, with two HIM races and a handful of Sprint/Olympic distance races. What am I doing differently this year? First, I hired a coach. Someone to help keep me grounded and safe. Second, my goal this year is to be healthy. I haven’t tied any arbitrary times to any races. I’m looking to go out, test myself, and hopefully have as much fun as I did when I first started.

I also firmly believe that my Steelhead race experience, and getting back into training after a 4 month hiatus, will make me a mentally tougher triathlete. I’m here to have fun.