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 :-)