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!