African Adventures (Part 3): Training Campus interruptus

A training camp where you can’t train is like a long-awaited beach vacation where it rains the entire time. Sure, it is nice to get away and relax, but it is disappointing nonetheless. You make the most of it, staying busy playing scrabble and watching movies, but you can’t help but dwell on what could (should?) have been.

My time at Kenya, while a nice life experience, didn’t quite pan out as the training camp for which we had hoped. Instead of logging in some great miles in Iten, I spent my time trying to minimize pain and trying to stay busy. In the end, coach and I decided that I was probably better off heading home early to get medical treatment. And so I packed up my gear, said goodbye to training partners and new friends alike and made the 36 hour trek home to Hanover. My search for a diagnosis has most recently brought me to the US Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs. Fingers crossed!

While it was a bit disheartening to travel so far to get injured and head home early, this is part of the job that chose. At the very worst, I had the opportunity to go to an amazing country, meet some inspiring people, spend time with my lovely training partners and have an incredible life experience. Sure, I didn’t get much training in (and didn’t see any critters beyond livestock!), but I feel fortunate that my job allows me to travel to and spend time in Kenya. I guess that it is best to have the perspective that, when it rains on your beach vacation, at least you aren’t at the office and stuck to your desk!

African Adventures (Part 2): Polépolé

In Kenya, I’ve had to embrace the concept of Polépolé, Swahili for “take it easy”. We joke about things happening on Kenyan time: relaxed, late (according to us), and predictably unpredictable. After a series of injuries, illnesses and mishaps, 2010 has been a year of learning patience; a lesson that is being reinforced by my experience thus far in Kenya. Like a good little student, I’m trying to learn from the relaxed culture here and let things happen in their own time.

The latest lesson in patience has been dealing with a glute injury sustained last Sunday, our first full day in Iten. Part of me appreciates the irony in being unable to run (or even bike *sigh*) in one of the most famous running towns in the world. For the time being, I can only watch runners instead of running myself. Although I can’t do much on land, I have picked up some running tips and am getting to be a pretty good water runner, perfecting the worst tan lines of all time in the process! I’m also trying to be supportive to my training partners Andi, Vicky and Lisa, who are getting in some seriously good training. Watch out for these three in 2011!

My injury is taking a while to heal (at least far longer than the two or three days that I would have preferred), but it is happening on its own time. Polépolé. Until then, I’m just trying to stay relaxed, I’m meeting some cool runners and I’m unsuccessfully avoiding having my swimsuit lines permanently etched into my skin. Hopefully my next post will have me back running side-by-side with some fast runners!

Kwa herini!

African Adventures (Part 1): New York to Nairobi

I’m one lucky chick. Sometimes I lose sight of the incredible opportunities that I have by being an athlete. This morning, however, I spent 30 minutes chatting with NBA legend Bill Walton in the NYAC hot tub after getting in a nice swim workout. Life doesn’t get much better than that.

Last night, Bill served as keynote speaker for the New York Athletic Club’s All Sports Dinner, where I was fortunate enough to rub elbows with some of the best athletes in the country. NYAC has a tremendous tradition of supporting athletes in Olympic sports and Jarrod Shoemaker, Kevin Collington and I are fortunate members of their triathlon team. The club is an incredible place, located next to Central Park, with a rich and impressive history of Olympic athlete support. I hope to represent the club well for years to come.

I’m still scratching my head about how I can be so fortunate. I sat and talked with one of the greatest basketball players of all time in one of the most prestigious clubs in the world. These experiences just don’t seem as though they should happen to a goofball triathlete from New Hampshire. While they last, however, I’m just enjoying the ride. I think that my new buddy Bill, with his big heart and infectious passion for life, would approve.

I’m off to Kenya tonight (currently in the lounge- hence the rushed blog post) for a month of running in the Rift Valley. Like I said, I’m pretty darn lucky. From New Hampshire to New York, New York to Nairobi, this is one crazy journey... I can’t wait to see what comes next!

Down(ward Dog)time

After a tough season of training, racing and travel, some athletes opt for a beach holiday to relax on the sand. Other athletes may jet off to Vegas for a few days of debauchery. I, on the other hand, embraced my inner granola-eating hippie and tried to be a Zen Master at the Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health.

Following a few days of paperwork, hanging out with friends and family and one bike ride with Lance (Yes, that Lance. Good namedrop, right? Am I cooler now?), I headed down to Kripalu. Situated in Lenox, Massachusetts, the Kripalu property (summer estate turned Jesuit novitiate turned ashram) overlooks Laurel Lake and the Berkshire Mountains. My initial impression, shaped by the perfectly-coiffed New Jersey suburbanite stepping out of her Land Rover in front of reception, was that this would be more of a yoga-light, spa experience than a hard-core hippie retreat. While there were some yuppie elements, I was pleasantly pleased to find out that my initial impression was incomplete and that guests could tailor their experience in whatever fashion they wanted.

Personally, I wanted my experience to be an active, energizing one. That entailed 3 yoga sessions a day, multiple lectures, hikes and runs and meditation; all achieved on a caffeine-free, macrobiotic diet (No coffee= big deal for SG). I very possibly overextended myself. By the end of my stay, I felt sore in different places, but relaxed and really happy. After being put through the meat grinder a few times this season, I needed a clean start and Kripalu was exactly the place to seek it. I’m ready to move onto the 2011 season, armed with a few more tools to keep me healthy, grounded and feelin’ the prana, baby. That being said, delicious, wonderful coffee will definitely be reintegrated into my life at some point.

Deep-fried Dallas

For a couple of months, I have been eagerly anticipating my last race of the year, the U.S. Open Triathlon in Dallas, for one reason: the Texas State Fair. I have a borderline unhealthy obsession with the State Fair and its crazy assortment of fried foods (plus the added bonus of livestock!). For the most part, I view the fried food fiesta as entertainment (Who the heck would fry flavored butter? And, more puzzling, who would eat it?!). This year, however, I was looking forward to actually trying this year’s winner, fried beer. How can fried beer NOT be good? Unfortunately, fried beer, an insipid ravioli like pocket filled with lukewarm, beer-flavored liquid, is pretty awful. So awful, in fact, that the fried beer ended up in the garbage. Considering I was with my brother (in photo), who happened to be in town for business, and my Dallas-buddy, my dad, this is saying something; Groffs will pretty much eat anything.

So what does fried beer have to do with triathlon? I guess that I see the whole fried-beer experience as a reflection of my season this year. I went into the season with high hopes and expectations, hoping to find a new level of awesomeness. I took a calculated risk and while I was immersed in the right environment and surrounded by great people, things didn’t turn out as I had hoped. For the most part, my results, while not inedible, certainly weren’t the nuggets of deliciousness for which I had hoped. I’ve grown through the experience, however, and I’m now armed with knowledge and experience that I didn’t have in the past.

After the disappointment of the deep-fried beer, Adam and I waited in a 30-minute line in order to try the “Elvis”, a deep-fried peanut butter, jelly and banana sandwich. It required patience, but I was pleasantly surprised by the final outcome. In the past, I would have passed by the line and merely been entertained by the idea of this calorie-bomb treat. After trying and failing with the beer, however, I was more willing to take a risk and invest the time into a potentially positive outcome. The long wait and the nastiness of the fried beer only made the “Elvis” taste even better. At some point, I will be have the breakthrough that I desire as a triathlete and it will be even more rewarding after the frustrations of seasons like this past one.

[This was intended as a race report and ended up being something else entirely. As for the race itself, I ended up 5th- a good result that isn’t reflective of how mentally and physically difficult it was for me. It has been a long, draining season that has taken its toll on me and that was glaringly obvious on Sunday. Phew. Thank goodness the 2010 season is over!]

Sizzlin' in the South: U.S. Nationals wrap-up

Last weekend, I popped over to Tuscaloosa, AL for our Elite National Championships. Being a full-fledged Northerner who prefers arctic conditions over sauna-like ones, it was a pretty rough race in the 94℉ (34.4℃), mid-day sun. After a strong swim and and effective pack ride on the bike, the run was a survival death march. Fortunately, I kept the “Prancing Pony” in the stable and was able to cross the finish line in second (albeit a very distant second!) place to the always-impressive Laura Bennett. It is always an honor to finish on the podium, but to do so at a National Championships in anti-Groffy conditions is even more special.

So what nuggets of knowledge did I gleam from the race? What lessons were reinforced? Like with every race, I walked away with some good (but random) material:

1. My family is amazing. They covered race support from every angle: lead-up to the race where my Gainesville-based family (and my visiting mom) helped me recharge, care in Tuscaloosa by my dad, Aunt Denise and Uncle Howie (who took me to the airport at 3:45 AM!!), and my post-race support back at home in Hanover.
2. Getting administered 2 I.V.s makes you a source of envy. I’d rather not have needed them, but at least I made some of the other girls jealous. Mwaa haa haa.
3. Based on my limited experience, there are no giant, man-eating catfish in the Black Warrior River. I was a bit nervous about this, as the water was so turbid that one would have attacked me and I wouldn’t have known until its barbels were wrapped around my leg.
4. Even in the midst of strip-mall chain stores, you can still find little natural foods gems.
5. After a couple years of huge packs in the WCS races, I had forgotten how much I’ve missed having the small groups out front on the bike. At one point, I looked around to see Sara McLarty, Sarah Haskins, Annabel Luxford and Laura Bennett and felt the pangs of nostalgia. (Thank goodness we had an effective pack, by the way- I needed as big of a time buffer as possible!).
6. You know that it is going to be a rough day when you run out of water with 20 minutes left in the bike and you are already feeling the effects of the heat. At this point, your best tactic is to ignore the voice that tells you that you may spontaneously combust about 5k into the race and to think instead about management skills to get you across the finish line.
7. There are two Dreamland BBQs in the Tuscaloosa area. If Jarrod Shoemaker tries to steer you astray to the wrong one, don’t listen to him. He is probably still in the midst of the post-National Champ title elation.
8. Avoid the La Quinta Inn in Tuscaloosa at all costs. Unless you like midnight visits to scary 24 hr grocery stores for mold-battling antihistamines, that is... (8a. Avoid visiting sketchy 24 hr grocery stores in Tuscaloosa at midnight)
9. If you want to race well in the heat, I’d advise against the following: weighing more than 120 pounds, growing up in the Northeast and training all summer in Switzerland.
10. Laura Bennett is a total animal. Based on how she destroyed us on the run, I’m convinced that she doesn’t actually feel heat. A true champion in every sense, I couldn’t be more awed by her performance. For years, she has set the standard for U.S. women’s ITU racing and only continues to raise the bar for the rest of us. While I would have loved to finished closer to her, I was honored to stand next to Laura on the podium!

So that happened...

Last year, one of my heroes in the sport, Simon Whitfield (but don’t tell him that- I don’t want him to hold that over me) had a pretty shocking race in Washington D.C. where things didn’t fall into place. Sometimes that just happens in racing. He blogged about the race under the same heading that I lifted from him, “So that happened”, and it was this phrase that stuck in my head when I crossed the finish line in the Budapest WCS Final on Sunday. Encapsulated in those three words are the feelings that rose to the surface: disappointment, shock, resignation and frustration.

No matter how you feel about a disappointing race, there is nothing that you can do about it but move on and try to learn something from the experience. In the case of SImon, he went on to win $200k the following weekend at the HyVee Triathlon. For me, my post-Budapest goal is a bit less results focused. I need to become an excellent technical rider. My race didn’t turn out the way that I had hoped for one very big reason: my bike handling skills were simply not adequate for a highly technical bike course with a pack of 40 women. I used up my legs needlessly covering gaps or trying to move up from the back of the pack to an easier position. By the time that I got to the run, I was so mentally exhausted that I had lost count of the bike laps and had to slam on my brakes at the dismount line. While I focused on maintaining a good run form and tried to move up through the field, I was simply too tired to put together anything beyond a heavy plod and finished in 28th place. Amazingly, I managed to squeak into 20th place overall in the series, thanks to the “Get out of Jail Free” cards that I cashed in at Hamburg, KItzbuhel and London. I could have used another one this past weekend, but I guess that it was too much to ask!

Although I have worked on my handling skills, I still have a long way to go. Even though I am disappointed that it had to occur at the most important race of the season, the wake-up call that I received on Sunday will only make me a better triathlete in the future. Until this year, I always assumed that the fittest triathlete won races. This weekend’s lesson reinforced that there is a skill component that I can no longer overlook. The fit athlete will only succeed if the mental, technical and tactical skill level is high. Fortunately, I have a squad of training partners who are highly adept at these skills. How else can you explain the fantastic racing by Andreas Giglmayr (breakthrough top-15!), Barbara Riveros, Kate Roberts, Vicky Holland, Lisa Norden and our junior, Michael Gossman?! I would have loved to live up to the D-Squad level of excellence this weekend in Budapest, but it just wasn’t to be. Sure, “that happened” and I would have loved if it hadn’t, but that is part of the sport. On to the next training session, next race and next season!

Home, sweet suitcase

Before heading out to Australia to join up with Darren this winter, one of the best pieces of advice that I received was from the wise Bobby McGee. He told me that I need to make a home wherever I find myself, even if I am living out of a suitcase. My guess is that, after years of working with international runners and triathletes, he has witnessed some athletes be more at peace with the itinerant lifestyle than others. Those who are able to adapt to their surroundings and feel at home will invariably be happier than the homesick, angst-ridden athletes. Not surprisingly, a happy athlete will train and race better than an unhappy one.

I’ve certainly taken Bobby’s advice to heart, as I’ve been out of the U.S. for 7 out of the past 8 months. I’ll be leaving my latest “home” of Davos, Switzerland in a few days and have been surprised how mixed my emotions are about this prospect. Sure, I’ll be glad to get out of Davos before the snow falls in earnest (we woke up to blanket of snow on August 31st!) and to finally meet my niece, Ingrid. It will also be nice to pay a reasonable amount for a coffee, as $5 seems a bit steep for a latte, and to be able to order it without amusing the cashier with my attempts at broken German. I have so much to look forward to when I return to the U.S., but I’m returning with the knowledge that I will miss this little Alp town.

Athletes who have a particularly successful training camp will occasionally attribute their success to their training location, imbuing it with a quasi mystical power (the same thing happens with success at particular race venues too). While I’ve managed to get in some really good training days in Davos, I’ve spend far too much time in my nun flat at Spinnelenweg 2, trying to keep insanity at bay while trying to wait out injury, sickness and overtraining (yes, it has been a rough summer). If anything, I should be grateful to leave Davos and any negative training-related associations! No matter how rough it has been for me, however, my feelings about this place have remained as warm and fuzzy as a braunvieh’s ear.

My happiness in Davos goes beyond triathlon to something much bigger. When I wake up in the morning, I hear the bells of the cows being lead out of the barn and open my window to see the day breaking on the Alps. It doesn’t take much for me to realize how incredibly lucky I am to be able to live in a town like this and to be able to call these trails and roads my “office” (to say nothing of the ridiculously good Davoser bakeries). I think that it is this gratitude that allows me to see past the frustrations of training and the distance from my family and to be able to make a happy home out of a suitcase and a humble flat in a beautiful, yet unfamiliar, country. Either that, or I’m experiencing the draw of my true calling as a Swiss cowherd... I guess that if the triathlon thing doesn’t work out, I can always start practicing my yodeling and invest in a sweet Alpenhorn!

Oh to be a Braunvieh!

Since coming to Davos, I’ve suspected that, if I were a cow, I would want to be one of the Braunvieh, or Brown Swiss, cows that I see lounging in the pastures. Over the past couple of months, I’ve become well acquainted with my bovine neighbors and my initial positive impression has been confirmed. Between having a cushy lifestyle and possessing key attributes characteristic of their breed, there is no doubt in my mind that these girls have it made.

As I see it, here are the top reasons to envy the Swiss Braunvieh:

1. Scenery: Pastures in the Alps= blue skies, wildflowers and a killer mountain view. It can be a bit snowy, but the winter accommodations are pretty cozy.
2. Cuisine: Succulent grasses and flowers in the warmer months and seriously tasty hay in the winter. The farmers have been doing some serious haying since we’ve been here, stockpiling delicious meals for the winter. The ladies pity their corn and antibiotic stuffed American counterparts.
3. Hotness factor: With svelte yet shapely figures, these dairy cows are the Gisele Bundchens of the bovine world. Long lashes, fuzzy ears and soft, yet distinctive, facial features ensure that Braunvieh have little competition in the looks department.
4. Craftsmanship: Their primary purpose is to supply milk for some of the world’s best yogurts, cheeses and chocolate. They take great pride in their excellent milking abilities and withstand their daily exertions with the calmness and self-possession of champions.
5. Language: Like most Swiss, they are multi-lingual. They slip facilely between French (“meuh”), German (“mmuuuhh”) and Italian (“muuuuu”), as well as what appears to be their regional dialect of Swiss German (“grüüüüüch”).
6. Bling: Every cow gets her own Trychel (the egalitarianism keeps the jealousy in check). Half musical instrument, half jewelry, the bells helps them make their presence known and serves as the perfect accessory for any occasion.
7. Partytime!: When you get festivals in your honor, most notably the Alpabzug, where you are adorned with pretty hats and flowered necklaces and paraded down from the pastures, life is pretty good. B-list celebrities could only dream of this kind of attention.
8. The Laissez-Faire lifestyle: Unlike their European counterparts, Swiss cows aren’t hampered by the strict (and occasionally silly) regulations imposed by the E.U. dairy industry. Fewer rules means fewer headaches!

So what do the ladies think of themselves? Officially, they take the stance of neutrality and remained mum on the matter. Off the record, however, many cows indicated very favorable impressions of their breed and nationality. A few, however, expressed jealousy of their Indian counterparts and their revered status. Regardless of species, it appears that, for some, the grass appears greener in the other pasture.

Post Kitzbuhel: The Little Mermaid & me

Like most kids, I went through a pretty serious Disney phase in elementary school. To this day, a depressing amount of my brain is occupied by the song lyrics of Aladdin, The Little Mermaid and Beauty & the Beast*. The other day, I was reminded of The Little Mermaid upon reflecting on my race at the Kitzbühel WCS, where I finished a surprising 10th place after yet another disastrous pre-race lead-up. More specifically, I thought of Ariel and the advice that Ursula, the evil sea witch, gave her after taking away her voice in exchange for legs. How ever would poor Ariel seduce the prince without her best attribute, her beautiful singing voice?! Ursula reminded little Ariel that she had other qualities that might be appealing to that hottie prince. I believe that the actual lyrics are “Don’t forget about your looks, your pretty face/ And don’t forget about the meaning of the body language”. Amazingly, Ariel almost gets away with snagging the prince despite her limited means and only through Ursula’s use of magic is her marriage to the prince thwarted. (If you want to know the ending, you’ll have to watch the movie yourself.)

So what exactly does this have to do with triathlon? Not much, other than it reinforces the lesson that you can sometimes get away with more than you think with less than 100% of your ability. For a week and a half leading into the race in Kitzbühel, my training was seriously impacted by a knee injury. I had to lay off of running, ride no harder than an easy spin and use all of the sports medicine and physiotherapy I could to decrease the pain to a manageable level. Fortunately the USAT staff and DIrk, the German team physiotherapist, were thorough and generous with their time. (Thanks!) However, the knee injury was yet another setback in a season of setbacks, making me incredibly cranky and physically underprepared. The stress alone forced Coach Daz to binge on Swiss chocolate and to contemplate sending me back over the Atlantic. An injured Groffy is a handful, needless to say. Fortunately my training partners are nonplussed by my antics at this point, as was evidenced by their performances in Kitzbühel. That being said, I owe them big time for putting up with me this season...

If I was injured, stressed out and underprepared leading into the race, how was I able to finish 10th in a world-class field? Honestly, I was shocked that I managed a good result. Not as shocked as after my post-Death Spiral Hamburg result, but still very, very surprised. Instead of relying on my fitness (i.e. racing like a meat head), as I would have in the past, I raced as calmly and intelligently as could, focusing on racing efficiently and with minimal impact on my knee. While I would have loved to feel fitter and less flat, especially in the second 5k of the run, I couldn’t have hoped for a better result given my lead up to the race. It is probably safe to say that I am gradually becoming a more skilled racer, making me optimistic for when I can race with both skills AND have a greater level of fitness. After all, while the prince was enamored of mute Ariel, he was even more psyched when she had her voice as well.

* I’m sure that this is a confession that I should be embarrassed about, but I really have no shame. I run around in public in my swim togs, after all.

Extreme swimming with a message

While warming up from a chilly afternoon swim in the Davoser See (photo above) the other day, I watched the latest of the TED Talks, a lecture by cold water swimmer Lewis Pugh. In a nutshell, he is a publicity seeker with a message on climate change. A few years after a pioneering (NON-WETSUIT!!!) swim across the North Pole, Lewis travelled to the Himalayas to swim across a lake situated in the shadow of Mt. Everest. The conditions were undoubtably insane for a plunge (1k at 5300m and 2 degrees C), but his choice of swimming location was important in the context of climate change. The glaciers in the region are melting at an alarming rate and are the source of water for nearly a THIRD of the world’s population. As the water supplies dwindle, there is an even greater risk of instability in the region.

Although some cynics might dismiss Lewis’ feat as a publicity stunt that will do little to stem the tide of global climate change, we all can take away an important message from his talk. In order to complete his swim across the glacial lake, Lewis had to completely alter his approach to the task. After a failed practice swim a couple of days before that led to his near drowning, Lewis and his team realized that his old methods of coping with the extreme cold wouldn’t work. Instead of an aggressive struggle through the water, he had to swim in a calmer, more transcendental manner. While Lewis links the need for a change in swimming mindset to the need for a change of mindset in regards to our approach for climate change, we can apply this lesson to any type of struggle. Sometimes we have to completely abandon old patterns and adopt a new mindset. While it can be difficult to go about things in a different way, the rewards potentially outweigh the risks. And this, my friends, is a lesson that has been reinforced this year. I’m still waiting for the rewards, but I know that my change in approach will pay off!

A week in London

After two weeks in Hamburg and London, it is a bit of a relief to be back in quiet Davos. While it was wonderful to see family (my sister Lauren, who came in for the London race), friends and sponsors, I was excited to hop on the train to Davos and weave my way up the Alps to our training base. Spending so much time in two beautiful, exciting cities, surrounded by people and distractions, was a bit of a sensory overload for me. I much prefer waking up to the sound of cowbells over the noise of traffic. I’m a country girl at heart!

With a couple of races that were both disappointing and encouraging, I am returning to Davos on a mission. An 8th place finish at Hamburg was a surprise, given my pre-race “preparation”. Once the race was over, we had to reshift focus to being as recovered as possible for the London WCS race 6 days later (the lucky boys had 8 days between races!). Thankfully, the USA Triathlon staff did a great job in helping the athletes with this task. As the race unfolded, however, I soon realized that I was pretty flat and couldn’t quite find that next gear. After a strong swim and solid bike, I put in a good effort on the run, but struggled to find my running legs and ended up finishing a respectable 12th place. Sometimes you can recover easily after a race and other times it is a strain. All you can do is set yourself up as well as possible to be able to go fast!

After trying to compete the first two WCS races of the year in Sydney and Seoul with an injury, being able to race in Hamburg and London without pain was a far more pleasurable experience. That being said, we made some mistakes leading up into the race that lead to a compromised pre-race preparation and I still wasn’t able to race at 100%. The longer that I do this sport, however, I realize that these highs and lows are just part of the process. On the whole, I am improving and becoming a better triathlete, even if my results don’t yet reflect those changes. Fortunately, I have two more opportunities at the WCS level to prove that my trajectory is pointing in the right direction. If I can get in some good training in Davos, avoid bovine (or other) collisions on the bike and go into the races with a solid preparation phase, I should be able to produce a result that will make me proud.

• Yes, I had to wear a bathing suit in front of the Big Ben. Fortunately, a photo shoot involving triathletes in bathing suits was overshadowed by the protester walking around with a box on his head, a megaphone and cardboard “armor”.

Hamburg in review

In sport, miracles simply don’t occur. That being said, sometimes events unfold in a way that can shock the bejeezus out of you. Somehow, despite having the least ideal pre-race prep possible, I eked out enough energy to manage an 8th place finish at the Hamburg World Championship Series race.

After two weeks of being stuck in the Death Spiral, we weren’t sure whether I’d be able to race in Hamburg. I tried to remain optimistic, however, that somehow I might be able to avoid drowning, push more than 100 watts on the bike and manage more than a shuffle on the run (the sad part is that I’m only mildly exaggerating). The pre-race instruction that I received from Daz was literally, “Give me a thumbs down after the first lap of the bike if you are going to pull out of the race and, if you do, don’t be too hard on yourself”. Since we had reached red on the Terrorist threat level a few times in the previous two weeks, this seemed like reasonable advice.

My race was pretty straightforward: I managed to stay relaxed and move my way to the front of the swim pack, tried to stay out of trouble on the technical bike course and focused on running efficiently. Somehow, I picked off girls one by one and ran my way into 8th place. Needless to say, I was totally shocked. It just goes to show that, with an open mind and a relaxed body, you can sometimes race well when overly tired, poorly primed for racing and emotionally exhausted. Let’s just hope that I can do even better when properly prepared! It was a great day for the D-Squad, with 4 of the women finishing in the top-8 and some strong racing from our boys. Fingers crossed that we repeat the domination in London! As for me, I wouldn’t mind surprising myself again :-)

Scaredypants Groffy and the Tunnel of Doom

I don’t hate many things. There are some critters, namely venomous spiders, snakes and sharks, for whom I have a healthy respect. Heights don’t bother me too much and public speaking just makes me uncomfortable. And after years of loathing cilantro and brussel sprouts, I have found that I actually quite like both when prepared properly (i.e. not boiled to death and smelling of feet, in the case of brussel sprouts). The closest that I have come to hatred in recent years is my ongoing disdain for clowns. The closest, that is, until I came to Davos and rode through the 2.7 km long Landwasser Tunnel.

I can safely say that I hate the Landwasser Tunnel with the burning passion of a thousand suns. The first time that I went into the tunnel I was worried that I wouldn’t come out alive and, despite having successfully passed through it a number of times since, I still enter with a sinking feeling of dread. Among its many charming characteristics you’ll find: almost total darkness, seriously confined space, a significant temperature drop, the distortion of automotive noise that both amplifies and makes the vehicle’s direction unknown (one scooter can sound like a fleet of tanks, ready to surround you), recycled auto emission-laden air and trolls*.

Not surprisingly, when I safely pop out the other side of the tunnel, I have a white-knuckle grip on my handlebars and it requires a few kilometers of riding before my shoulders drop from ear level. The most startling part of reaching the end of the tunnel, however, is the contrast that meets you. From a dark, scary and confined space, you emerge into the bright, dazzling open Swiss countryside. And while I hate the feeling that consumes me while inside, it is this contrast helps me see the world with a different perspective. In other words, the hatred of the tunnel, really just my fear resulting from a skewed perception of danger, allows me to appreciate the non-tunnel riding that much more. Yes, I hate the tunnel, but I will continue to ride through it, mostly because I have no other option to reach my destination. I ride though that terrifying, potentially troll-filled tunnel with the hopes that I’ll reach the other end safely. Somehow, I always do.

• Okay, I haven’t actually seen a troll in there, but it always reminds me of the descent into the mines of Moria from the Lord of the Rings. Like with the orc drumming, I expect the car noises to be followed by trolls, orcs and the Balrog. (And, yes, referencing the Lord of the RIngs officially makes me a dork.)

P.S. Yeah, I know... the tunnel is a completely overworked metaphor. In my defense, I’m an athlete, not a writer. If you want real writing, my amazing sister is the Groff with the writing chops. If you want blog posts from the endorphine addled brain of a triathlete, however, you are in the right place!

Why Chris Solinsky is my hero

On May 1st, in his first attempt at the distance, 25 year old Chris Solinsky broke the American record in the 10,000 meter, running a whopping 26:59. In doing so, he became the first non-African to break the 27 minute barrier and is only 1 of 31 men to ever accomplish this feat. While all of this is undoubtably impressive, I am most in awe of how fast he is in spite of his size.

At 185 cm and 73 kilos, Chris is substantially larger than the other members of the sub-27 club, who average 169 cm and 55.6 kilos. To watch him run, however, you realize that he manages, through perfect mechanics and a massive engine, Chris is able to run as fast as he does. His large frame is durable, allowing him to pursue years of hard running without breaking down with injury, and he trains with relentless tenacity.

So why is Chris Solinksky my hero? This phenomenal runner is an inspiration to me because he proves how someone without a conventional runner’s build can still run quickly. Naysayers may say that a taller, stronger athlete (like me!) can never run as quickly as the little runner-types, but Chris proves that with hard work, a perfect run form and tenacity, anything can be possible.

Davos-Dorf= Perfekt (minus the Schnee!)

On Monday, I took three flights and three different trains to arrive in the middle of the Swiss Alps. Amazingly, my bike and bag managed to make the entire trip with me, despite some tight connections! My final stop was Davos-Dorf, my training base with the D-Squad for the next few months. Despite overcast skies and incessant rain (and snow this morning!), I’ve been blown away by how lovely the area is. Imagine alpine meadows filled with wildflowers and bell-toting Swiss cows and you might get an idea...

While I would love to spend time lolling about in fields with the aforementioned cows and eating fondue, my reason for being here is simple: I need to get in serious race shape. I quite a bit of work to do, as the first half of my season, both in terms of training and racing, was profoundly impacted by my injury. This season is a building year and the work that we put in this year will pay off at some point. Maybe towards the end of this year, maybe next year... All I know is that I’m surrounded by the right training partners, I’m under the guidance of the right coach and I’m in the right training location to put in the hard work that I need in order to improve. Davos was not the easiest training grounds to get to, but I’m finding out that sometimes the hardest and most time-consuming destinations to reach are the most worthwhile ones.

Goodness gracious, great balls of... tar?!

When you start a triathlon, you expect to encounter certain obstacles over the course of the race. The challenges could be personal, as you come face to face with the discomfort of physical strain or with your doubts and uncertainty. Depending on the terrain or weather conditions, the difficulties can be forced upon you.

What you don’t expect, however, is the risk of swimming into balls of tar. At this weekend’s Grandman Triathlon in Alabama, a fundraiser for a local environmental group, triathletes racers dove into the waters of Mobile Bay, uncertain of whether their race would be affected by the oil spill following the Deepwater Horizon rig explosion. Despite the strong petroleum smell and dead fish in the bay, the triathletes hazarded a swim around the 1/3 mile course. Fortunately, no tar balls were encountered in the race.

While the 2010 Grandman Triathlon was able to be run, other triathlons will probably be cancelled due to adverse environmental conditions following the oil spill. I’m not an expert in marine ecosystems or in economics. I can’t speak to the potential economic impact of the rig explosion on the fishing and tourism trades in the Gulf or the deleterious effect of the oil on wildlife. What I do know, however, is that when the water is too unsafe to be able to run a triathlon, something is seriously wrong.

Home!

A week ago, I rolled off the Dartmouth Coach in the midst of a trans-Pacific, jet-lag stupor and the post-DNF funk. WIthin 24 hours, however, I was already feeling revived and looking forward to getting back to training in Hanover. The Upper Valley is, without a doubt, one of the best places in the world to train this time of year. Cool, but not cold, temperatures, and the springtime reawakening of the landscape make this hilly, rural area an invigorating training base. Add the favorable conditions to the incredible network of seemingly endless trails and backroads and you can see why I was so excited to return home for a training block!

I freely admit that I am a bit biased in thinking that New Hampshire surpasses Colorado and Australia, two places I’ve been fortunate enough to live and train, for a training environment. As a small-town girl from the day I was born (in Hanover!), rural, close-knit Northeastern communities will always resonate with me in a more profound way. Quite simply, I feel more settled and complete here than I do anywhere else in the world. As someone who spends most of the year on the road, this sense of belonging is incredibly important. When you live out of a suitcase in a high-pressure environment, you need to stay grounded in some way. For me, having a strong sense of where I am from and knowing that I have a solid, supportive network keeps me on track.

Over the next month, I have a lot of work to do. In a sense, I have to play catch-up, trying to gain back some of the fitness that I lost with my injury. As long as I can resist the siren song of Vermont cheese and ice cream, I can’t imagine a better place to regroup and move forward into part 2 of my season.

Looking forward (and not behind... too much)

In triathlon racing and training, like in life, you have good periods where everything is going well and the pieces just fall into place. Naturally, you also have "bad" periods where it feels as though you are fighting the current to no avail. The past couple of months I've been in a bit of a rough patch, but rather than feel too sorry for myself or bemoan my bad luck, I'm looking forward and ahead and hoping that these challenges will make me a stronger athlete and person. After all, what choice do you have? Either you: a) wallow in self-pity or b) be proactive and "get on with it", as Coach Daz would say.

I'm currently writing from Seoul, South Korea, where I experienced the most disappointing of a series of three disappointing races (Mooloolaba World Cup, Sydney WCS and Seoul WCS). Starting the race, we knew that it was a crapshoot as to whether or not I'd be able to race well. The odds were stacked against me, but there was a chance that I might be able to pull out something special. It was a "big ask" , as they say in Australia, as I had fractured my sacrum 7 weeks ago in a little bike crash (only a couple of weeks after a sinus infection and unintentionally running over an innocent pigeon on the bike path- all bad things come in threes!) and have since had to deal with serious back pain. Considering the fact the bike course was highly technical and accelerations on the bike tend to cause my back to painfully spasm, essentially locking it down, it was a gamble. Unfortunately, I did spasm on the bike and had to pull out- a DNF result is always a bummer, but this one was particularly so.

So where does that leave me? Obviously I am a bit frustrated and sad. When you picture your season, you never take setbacks like this into account. All I can do is look forward, get in a good block of training to catch up a bit after losing fitness and persist. It won't be easy, but nobody ever said that the occupation that I chose was an easy one. Actually, to be more accurate, the good periods are easy and the bad period stink, but it is our reaction to the hard ones that define us.

Off to get some kimchi and bulgogi. Maybe chili, garlic and fermented cabbage is the secret cure for an aching back...

A bad day at the office?

If I had a real job, a bad day at the office would probably entail endless meetings, looming deadlines and an incompetent boss. For me, a bad day at the office is a disappointing result in a race that takes place in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, Sydney, surrounded by friends and family. My life is pretty darn good.

While I would have loved to share in the great results of some of my fellow Americans and my amazing training partners, today's race at the Sydney WCS just wasn't meant to be. I tried the best that I could today, fought against some pain that has been hampering me for a few weeks and ended up pretty flat. Some days you can give 100% and you still fall short.

A special shout out to Barbara Riveros Diaz, today's winner and my training partner in the D Squad. Barbara, my "little sister", is one of the kindest, toughest girls I've ever met. I'm so proud of her! She has worked so hard and her efforts have paid off, serving as a reminder to keep plugging away and, someday, it will all pay off. Until then, I'll just try to remember how blessed I am to be able to lead the life that I do. Racing in the Sydney Harbor, around the gorgeous Opera house, being cheered on by Canberra pals and Oz and US Groffs? And meeting Edwin Moses after the race? Man, am I lucky!

Apprenticeship: Week 10

I have been in Canberra for just over ten weeks and, over the course of this time, I've had to learn how to be a world-class triathlete. It has been pretty surprising how little I actually know and how much "upskilling" I have to do of late. I've always known that I was a bit raw as a triathlete and I'm finally addressing the glaring holes in my skills and knowledge. From biking handling to nutrition to injury and illness prevention, I have had a LOT to learn. Needless to say, this has been a process that is both frustrating and overwhelming at times.

Prior to joining Darren's squad, I had always operated with a bit of a meathead mindset: just put your head down and get the work done. The problem with this approach is that it doesn't address efficiency or skill. In order to be able to develop my engine, we've had to first break apart the different components and try to address them individually. Once I have reached a certain level of competency, I've been allowed to increasingly apply my new skills.

For example, in order to fix my horrendously inefficient run form, Darren started me off with easy running, constantly giving me cues for good form. We also have used drills and hill repeats to reinforce a correct lean, foot plant, arm carriage etc. in conjunction with a full physio screening to identify and address muscle inbalances. Once I was able to maintain a basic level of competency, Darren loosened up the reins, tightening them if I revert to old habits. At some point, I'll be able to run smoothly and efficiently in a race. I'm just hoping that it will be sooner rather than later!

The question remains: how did I get so far with such poor skills? I think that the problem is a common one in the sport, as athletes who are improperly developed are thrown into races above their skill level. I just think back to my first World Cup in 2005, when I was in over my head, barely able to ride a bike. Because I was a strong swimmer and reasonably talented athlete, however, I "faked" my way to a top-20 finish. My NGB and coach must have thought that, because I could handle the race and perform decently, I was ready to compete at that level. Nothing could have been further than the truth, as I was basically an amateur with poor knowledge of the sport. Years later, I am finally addressing the basic development that I should have received when I started the sport. I certainly wish that I could have gone through a proper, thorough apprenticeship earlier, but better late than never, right?

The snowboarder and the grocers

In the pursuit of their dreams, sometimes athletes get help help from unexpected places. With the help of Kin Grocers, Canadian snowboarder Alexa Loo was able to continue her Olympic pursuit. In describing the decision to help Alexa, Kim Hun Leung said that “When we come to Canada, we’ve got nothing. But we have a dream. With Alexa, same thing. She has a dream. So that’s why we support her.”
Stories like this reinforce the fact that sport is more than just a physical endeavor. Through sport, we can bind together as communities in surprising and heartwarming ways.

Granted, I'll never get rich doing triathlon, but I feel extraordinarily grateful that I am able to afford to pursue my sporting dreams. While some triathletes may complain that we will never make enough as tennis players or golfers, I prefer the glass-half-full view that, as a woman, I can actually be a full-time athlete in the sport. Athletes in other sports, such as speedskating, struggle financially, despite reaching the highest level of the sport. Knowing that there are athletes out there willing to sacrifice so much to pursue their dreams is pretty awe-inspiring. Man, am I lucky!

Oh, how hard we can fall...

The McDonalds corporation is pretty much everything that I chose to reject in my life. Rather than risk a lawsuit for libel (heck, you never know), it is suffice to say that I have selected to avoid patronizing the franchise for many years. Today marks a very significant day in my life, as I have freely entered a door bearing the golden arches. While I have done so in order to access free wireless internet, something rather hard to find in Australia, I am ashamed to admit that my need to check my email has driven me to this low point. The worst part is that I will probably return in the future. Free wireless is tough to beat, but the shame...

To focus on the positives, it might mean that I will now write a REAL blog post, talking about my adventures in training in Canberra. Unfortunately, the muzak, florescent lighting and smell of D grade beef in making thought almost impossible. I wonder if that is part of McD's plan...