1. You know you’ve lost your race day mental edge when you see another swimmer panic out of the corner of your eye and completely lose your focus. You roll onto your back and breathe like a steam engine until you see kayaks converging. A voice in your head says that will be the day. You roll back over and swim for the next buoy humming Don’t Stop Me Now by Queen.
2. You know you’ve lost your race day mental edge when trotting into T1 you realize that you have no idea which button on your Garmin is lap and which is start/stop. You hit each one about three times then say screw it, I’ll just download the race results and put on your helmet. Riding off you sing King of Confusion by the Go-Go’s under your breath. “Like a broken neon sign, Volcanic valentine.”
3. You know you’ve lost your race day mental edge when out on the bike course the third mountain bike passes you and you debate selling your tri bike, hanging it in your entryway to remind yourself that sometimes you have really bad ideas or moving to a less bike-centric sport like table tennis. Faintly in the background someone is playing Here I Go Again by Whitesnake.
4. You know you’ve lost your race day mental edge when back at T2 your hamstrings are on fire, you realize that you put your bib on your race belt upside down and it takes forever to get your running shoes on. Finally you head out with Pat Benatar’s You Better Run playing in your head.
5. You know you’ve lost your race day mental edge when on the run course you struggle on the hills and remind yourself to belly breathe. You decide the early morning sausage biscuit was a bad decision. You vow to do more speedwork, run hill repeats and lose 50 pounds. Finally the finish line comes into view and loudspeaker is playing Flashdance … What a Feeling by Irene Cara.
6. You know you’ve lost your race day mental edge when after crossing the finish line and visiting your second home, the porta john, you notice a woman talking to the EMTs. She took a spill at the beginning of the bike, abrading her face and one of her hands but bravely finished the bike and the run before getting first aid. As she looks at her face in the side mirror of the ambulance, tears well up in her eyes and your heart breaks for her. As you walk away you realize that every race someone’s day will go way better than yours and someone’s will go way worse. You decide the most important thing is being out there and vow to stumble onward. In your mind, you hear Brave by Sara Bareilles.
Pick a number! Which one is your favorite or sounds like you?
Please feel free to comment on the blog or share.
Suggest topics for future posts.
Finally follow my wacky adventures and manic musings on twitter @swimbikestumble and check out the swimbikestumble Facebook page for links to credible, interesting or thought provoking items.