The Training Pays Off
by Rowan Beck,
August 11, 2011, page 15.....

This is the third in a series of articles about Rowan’s triathlon training. Race day was on July 23 in the Sprint Triathlon II – a USA Triathlon National Qualifier – that included a 500-yard swim, 15.8-mile bike and 3.1-mile run.

“Taper week”
Taper week, when athletes let their bodies rest to prepare for the race, was grim. My house was immaculate, all the laundry complete and articles were still being written. But I had gotten used to the early mornings in the water, the overwhelming power of the spin room, Led Zeppelin, Prince, Michael Jackson, and trying to chase down my teammates. I used to curse at my iPhone playing the blues at 4:45 a.m. Now I was awake at 4:45 twiddling my thumbs, wondering what my next project will be. No, I couldn’t show up at spin class, I’d get thrown out. I practiced breathing. Focused on slowing down. I tried not to think about the race because I knew it would cause tremendous anxiety. What if I panic in the water? What if I fall off my bike? What if I can’t get my wet suit off? What if? Those words crashed around my head like pool balls right after the break.
When I arrived at practice Friday morning before the race, I was bombarded with questions of “what are you doing here?” “You’re not actually training today are you?” Rayne Herzog, our coach, looked at me like a disapproving parent. We both knew I shouldn’t be there, but I was wound up like a top. Satisfaction arrived when he permitted me to swim for 20 minutes. “No biking, no running, only swimming, no arguing, 20 minutes.” I began with the group. One by one they disappeared out of the water leaving me alone to think about the upcoming race.

Race day finally arrives
Finally, Saturday arrived. I was so nervous I woke up at 4:30, before my alarm. A ball of energy, I leapt from my bed. My morning rituals, including breakfast, were all complete by 5:30. Texts from my family and my friends were already coming in. Janie, my middle daughter, came down to wish me luck and give me a pep talk. “Mummy, don’t get scared in the water, just think of Dory (the forgetful Blue Tang in Finding Nemo). Just keep swimming, just keep swimming. What do you do? You SWIM!”
Shelburne Beach was teaming with racers when I arrived at 6:30 a.m. The race didn’t begin until 8. I registered, got my number and found a spot in the transition area for all my stuff. Bikes were lining up quickly on the rack. Men and women walked around with bodies like Greek gods and goddesses. I wanted to vomit. I felt so out of my league. All of us were marked with race numbers by a grease pen and a bib. Mine were on my left arm under the brightly colored Dory my children placed there, while more numbers covered my leg.
Rayne gathered us for the pre-race briefing. Someone from the crowd yelled out a rule I had never known: if you want to overtake someone, you have to do it in 15 seconds. “Holy Cow!” I thought to myself, “How in the world am I going to do that?” The more Rayne talked, the more nervous I got. Voices were turning into a slow drone as I closed myself off. A woman near me kept talking to me; I could see her mouth moving but couldn’t understand what she was saying. I was shutting everything out and going to the familiar place in my head reserved for competition.
The men started swimming three minutes ahead. I heard the gun and watched water splash as yellow heads bobbed up and down. Tears trickled down my faced as we slowly marched into the soft water. I heard the countdown; the gun; suddenly, I was swimming. I heard Rayne’s voice in my head saying, “Relax, Relax.” My brother’s voice was next, “Eye’s in your own boat.” Then all I could hear was my breath and the sound of water lapping at my head.
I tore out of the water onto the pavement ripping at my wetsuit. I had no idea where I was in the pack and I didn’t care. I threw on my helmet and shoes, grabbed my bike, and ran out of the transition area. I was so excited I forgot to get on my bike. Again I heard Rayne, this time for real, yelling “relax” followed by “get on your bike!” I knew I was going to have to calm down despite every neuron firing in my body. I pushed myself down the road, looking for a mark in the distance, someone to catch. I spotted a woman I remembered from the start; she had an incredible body and a tattoo of a turtle on her back. This woman was no turtle; she was fast. I didn’t catch her until the last three miles of the bike. I flew back to the beach checking out the runners as they came towards me. “Where are all the women?” I thought.
I flew off my bike and twisted into my sneakers. As I came out of the gate I saw my teammate, the elusive older gentlemen. I yelled to him as I went by. “You got me,” was all he said. I steamed away from the beach, melting in the sun. My mouth felt like the Sahara, I was looking forward to the water station. My three daughters cheered me on with pictures of Dory. It was the boost I needed. I emptied my tank. I looked at the clock as I finished, 1:24:26. I couldn’t believe the results! I was the fifth woman and I won my age group. I had followed Rayne’s orders and my body built up a reserve. I had trained smart and done well. We’ll have to see how the next one goes. It was really fun.