A Groff Victory!

I would like to proudly announce that my nephew, Beckett, was recently the victor in the baby category of the March of Dimes fundraising run in Gainesville, FL. Admittedly, he was pushed in a stroller by my highly competitive sister and it wasn't technically a race. Nonetheless, Auntie Sbiggy is very proud of her little champion.

What I have in common with Jessica Simpson

What do I, Sarah Groff, have in common with Jessica Simpson, the blond bombshell singer? Am I dating a NFL player? Nope. Have I recently made a switch from pop to country? No again. Dubious talent? Possible, but I hope not. I certainly don't have the same, ahem, physical attributes as the star. What we do have in common, however, is that we both have found ourselves judged by strangers for our size. While I am lucky that I haven't been publicly scrutinized by tabloids (no paparazzi shots in Triathlete Magazine, as far as I'm aware), I have received quite a bit of unsolicited feedback. Over the past six months, I have twice been mistaken as a bobsledder (lovely girls, but have about 30 lbs more muscle than me), compared to a linebacker, told that I have a high BMI for a triathlete by a total stranger over dinner (visual calipers?) and given the backhanded compliment that, despite how much bigger I look than my competitors, I am actually kind of thin in person. Luckily, I have a good head on my shoulders and haven't let these comments negatively affect me. That being said, I fully acknowledge that it is high time for this "linebacker" to get a bit scrawnier.

Before I delve any further into this topic, I would like to say that I am of a very normal, healthy weight for an athlete and am actually pretty lean. My "problem" lies in the fact, however, that ITU racing is not conducted by weight class. If it were, I'd clean up! I frequently toe the line with girls 20+ pounds lighter than I am. While this might be an advantage in some situations (ie super cold, rainy World Championships in Vancouver last year), it probably is far more of a performance inhibitor. At the high end of the sport, women tend to be on the cusp of their power to weight ratio. If they were to lose additional weight, their swim and bike performance would greatly diminish and the likelihood of injury increases. I haven't ever reached a weight, however, where we were concerned that my strength and power might be diminished. Only by toeing this line, however, will I get a true sense of my potential as a runner.

While I am acutely aware of the fact that I need to trim quite a bit of muscle off my frame, I struggle with the actual process. I tend to eat healthfully, but include some tasty treats because, quite frankly, I love food. This strategy has been effective for weight maintenance, but I finally realize that I will have to sacrifice in order to drop weight. While I have made sacrifices in other areas of my life, I recognize that I am loathe to shift to a weight-loss diet, fearing that I'll be hungry and cranky for the rest of my career. I realize that this is an extreme view of the process, but I struggle with the sentiments all the same.

For some reason, professional athletes tend to veer away from talking about issues such as these. Some athletes are lucky enough to not battle with their size (obviously they don't eat like Groffs), but I'm sure that others do. By writing about the need to lose weight in such a public format, I recognize that I am potentially opening myself up to further scrutiny. Luckily, I am okay with that. Perhaps by being open about the process, however, I will hold myself more accountable to my goal. While Jessica Simpson has the luxury of "embracing her new figure", I recognize that I will struggle to reach a new figure, but that the result could help push my career to the next level. If not, I may be pushing for weight classes in the pro ranks :-)

Captain Clueless takes on a challenge

I am signed up for next weekend's California 70.3 in Oceanside and I am terrified. I am so nervous, in fact, that a couple of nights ago I was tossing and turning and only managed 3 measly hours of sleep. I feel like a jittery amateur triathlete again, with both excitement and fear of the unknown challenges that race day might present.

"Silly Sarah (/Sbiggy/ Saucy)", you are probably saying with a roll of the eyes. "Triathlon consists of swimming, biking and running. You know how to do that! It's your job, after all". True, true. Rational, logical Sarah agrees with you. Captain Clueless (aka 70.3 racing SG), however, fixates on the following:
1) I can barely focus for the duration of a non-drafting, Olympic distance bike (40k vs next weekend's 90k)
2) I have spent the past few days trying out the TT position and have to fight my deeply ingrained instinct to ride on the hoods
3) I am racing with girls WAAAAY more experienced in this distance and probably don't struggle about problems 1 & 2
4) Nutrition. I race Olympic distance with one bottle of very dilute drink and a gel. Somehow I don't think that'll cut it for a 4.5 hr race.
5) Ice cream headache-inducing cold water and sharks. 'Nuf said.
6) Pacing. I know that I shouldn't go as hard as I would if I were racing short course, but what pace am I supposed to go?!

Phew. What a relief to come clean about my 70.3 racing fears. Many professional athletes have a hard time publicly acknowledging that they are actually human, with human flaws, and not the stoic superheroes that they pretend to be. I evidently do not have that problem.

I realize that I am doing Oceanside as a training race, not as the start of a new career in long course (I love the fast pace of World Cups too much!) and that I need to just have fun with the race. I also know, however, that I just gave WTC a whopping $280 for race entry and that I need to finish in the top-8 to come out ahead (not including the moola that I've pumped into my Ceepo of late). While I doubt that it will be as terrible of an experience as my 2AM tossing and turning self might fear, I recognize that I will experience some highs and lows over the course of the 70.3 miles. Let's just hope that the highs outnumber the lows!

If you need a bike shop in San Diego...

When my new bike sponsor, Ceepo, shipped my new Viper time trial bike to me, I knew that I'd have to find a pretty special bike shop to fit me and set me up on my new rig. I asked fellow triathlete Jordan Rapp (a certified bike-fitter himself) for a recommendation on someone in the area and he sent me to J.T. Lyons at Moment Cycle Sport. After a 2 1/2 hour bike fit, where J.T. methodically and patiently honed in on my best time trial position for triathlon (thankfully not as smooshed and awkward as a cyclist on a TT bike. We have to run off the bike, after all!), he and his team at the shop carefully assembled my new steed. When the bike was finished, J.T. even dropped off the bike at the OTC, a good 40 minutes away from the shop, as I have no reliable means of transportation. Needless to say, that is some pretty incredible customer service!

A triathlete himself, J.T. also gave me some great pointers on Oceanside 70.3, where the bat bike and I will make our 2009 season debut (more on that later). I am confident that I couldn't have had a better team to help me out with my Ceepo Viper, even if I did occasionally get teased by J.T. about looking like a tri geek with my set up! If you ever find yourself in San Diego and in need of a great bike shop, please head to Moment Cycle Sport. I was pretty blown away by the level of attention to detail, depth of knowledge and kindness of J.T. Lyons and his staff there. Thanks, guys!

Chula Sports Camp!

I've been training hard for the past week at the OTC in Chula Vista and have been really enjoying my time here. I find that there is a greater sense of community among the athletes here than at the OTC in Colorado Springs. I think that this is because there is less personal space and we are a bit more isolated. In the Springs, the dorms are pretty spread out and segregated based on length of stay, with short-term campers pushed to the stark, shared-room barracks and the super-long term athletes in plush, spacious suites (I lived in the intermediary zone, a single room in renovated "barracks"). I also think that a far greater percentage of athletes live off campus in Colorado Springs than do here. Here, all of the rooms are the same: small, basic, four-person suites. I was a bit surprised to come here and find that I had a roommate, a college intern here for a semester. The rest of the campus is far more compact as well. From the dining hall to the sports medicine department, the smaller scale of the operations here allows for a greater sense of intimacy among athletes. With the removal of the omnipresent USOC and NGBs based in Colorado Springs, the result is that the OTC in Chula feels a summer camp without counselors, a feeling only enhanced by the sunny skies and neighboring Otay Lakes.

While here, I've been fortunate enough to meet a couple of fellow In the Arena athletes, Mike Hazle and Karl Erikson. These are the first ITA athletes that I've met since joining up with the volunteer organization last year (I went to Middlebury with Kate Whitcomb, but I haven't seen her since graduation). While we have had conference calls as members, it is entirely a different experience to meet another person face-to-face. Karl was also kind enough to give me a tour of the Boys and Girls Club where he volunteers. Half of the kids came running up to Karl to be picked up while I was there. To see tiny 8 year old kids mob a formidable thrower is quite an experience, to say the least. As Mike put it, "Karl is a teddy bear" and the children certainly respond well to him. I hope to join Karl as a volunteer at the Club, once I clear my background check. It is a BIG club with many, many kids, so I'm sure that an extra volunteer popping in on occasion will be appreciated!

RaisinHope

When I rolled down to breakfast at the Olympic Training Center's cafeteria in Chula Vista this morning, I was fortunate enough to cross paths with Saul Raisin, a professional cyclist now pursuing triathlon after a traumatic brain injury derailed his cycling career. Once I built up my bike, we headed out for a great 3 hour ride on rolling hills and followed up with a nice, easy 30 minute jog. Throughout the course of the ride, Saul gave me some great pointers on bike handling (not my strength!), as well as recounted some fantastic stories about his pro riding career in Europe and the story of his crash and subsequent recovery (deemed a "miracle" by his doctors).

In addition to training to complete the Hawaii Ironman, Saul is highly active with RaisinHope, his foundation for survivors and supporters of Traumatic Brain Injury, and with the Wounded Warrior Project. Considering Saul's story and taking into account his outgoing, talkative personality and boundless energy, I can't imagine a better advocate for the cause. The most remarkable and telling statement that Saul made was that if he could chose between his life the way it was one month before the accident and the way his life is now, he would pick the present, mainly because of the positive influence that he has made on the lives of others.

Saul is, without a doubt, one of the most impressive people that I have met through triathlon. When in the midst of training, we athletes have the tendency to insulate ourselves from the outside world. Saul and his involvement with victims of brain trauma serves an incredible reminder that when our energy is harnessed, we have the ability to do more than perform athletically at a high level. We also have the potential to have a positive impact on others.

Why I do what I do

Amory, from In the Arena, asked us to write a blog entry about achieving excellence or how to maximize one's potential. Ultimately, I think that it boils down to tapping into and exploiting one's motivating force. So why do I do this? Here's my slightly delirious with fatigue mind's free-verse answer:

I don't do triathlon for money or attention.
There is no fame that comes from triathlon (nor would I want it).
I don't do it because I think that it is what I am meant to do.
I'm sure that others are born for the sport, but that's not me.
I don't race to post a certain time or to beat a certain person.
Honestly, I don't even know if I race to win.
I put myself through this because I love the sport, but there is more to it.
If I just loved triathlon, I could do this as a hobby.
But, instead, I do triathlon as a fully-encompassing obsession.
So why?
I do this for me.
I train and race to test myself.
I pursue the sport to feel like I do right now, at the end of a hard training block,
Physically exhausted,
But also calm with the knowledge that, despite my doubts and fears,
I saw what I am made of,
And it made me smile.