DNF'ing

“A refined ability to learn from failure and to grow through losses is necessary to achieve excellence in any human endeavor.” – Terry Orlick

I’ll recount the story in case it isn’t immediately obvious… I did not manage to finish the race today. In fact, I made it about 3km onto the bike ride before I hit the side of the road, flatted my front tire, and, in the process of trying to get myself back onto the “cleaner” road, managed to either pinch or do something to my rear tire, which left it seaping air as I came to a stop near the first turn of the race.

So, I have two flats, and, in a move that would soon be recognized as foolhardy and quite absent-minded, two CO2 cartridges with no hand pump. I chose NOT to bring the hand pump with me because I felt that two CO2 cartridges – which are useful for a speedy tire fill-up during a race – would be sufficient. They are… IF you don’t make a mistake with either of them, which I did. I accidentally fired one off trying to load it into the disposal device and, thus, was left with one full CO2 cartridge and a now questionable amount of pressure in the other one. Well, I hook up the unused CO2 and manage to fill up the rear tire, trying to pull it off just in time to use it on the front tire to see if I can at least get a LITTLE bit of pressure into that tire, at least enough to continue.

In short, there was not enough. After staring down at a half full tire and two empty CO2 cartridges, I began to look for options. Of course, had I a hand pump, this would be easy. Nobody was allowed to give me assistance as this is an official triathlon rule. Only other competitors can assist by passing gear or tools. That is a rule I actually was not sure of, and I asked someone who said I had to be self-sufficient… No outside help whatsoever. I later did discover this to not be the case after many of the bikers who I knew passed by….

So, I started to think of options… And I couldn’t come up with any. When one is in “race mode”, we are constantly problem solving. We assess every situation. “How do I feel here?” “What does this mean?” “What can I do with this information about my bike/swim/run/stomach/etc.?”. It’s a constant mental focus that is what gets you to the end. As long as you’re still doing that, you still have a chance to make it to the finish. I had run out of options in my mind… And, it was time to call it a day.

Once you realize you’re done, you’re brain starts to lose motivation. I realized there were a number of things I could still do. I could just get back to the transition area and pump my tire up with my floor pump, and go out and ride for a few hours while I waited for others to finish. I could also go for a run. I really didn’t feel like doing anything. I spoke to the volunteers and said I was out of the race. We had a nice chat anyway while I was watching hundreds of bikers pass me. Then an old friend, Andrew, came riding by as a spectator and I explained to him the story. He tried to persuade me to go out riding with him after pumping up my tires to full. To be honest, at that moment I just wanted to be alone. I was done talking to anyone. I was not looking forward to talking with anyone and having to explain things over and over again. I didn’t want to hear anyone’s “oh, that’s too bad”, or “I’m sorry” comments. Or the questions of “What happened?”. I know, this is a point of feeling sorry for myself. But, at that moment, I started to realize that I wasn’t going to get a chance to see what I could have done on this day.

Moments like this have a way of really hitting you. Sometimes it’s doubt, it’s guilt, it’s self-damnation.

So, I rode sheepishly back to the transition area, and I just let the disappointment go through my brain for a few minutes. It’s easy to indulge in this, and I was allowing that to enter in. Then, I stopped at transition, and started chatting again, albeit at first reluctantly, with some of the other volunteers. I answered the questions above, removed my timing chip, and handed it in. Amazingly, though, I started to feel a little better. I realized it was not a “right” of mine to have done this race or even finish it. That was something that was part of the struggle of the day.

I think I stopped taking the “loss” (my new word for describing a poor race performance or a DNF – did not finish) personally at this point. I realized that I was not the loss, but that this day I lost. I experienced “losing a game”. Then, thinking again like a hockey player (or baseball, or football, whichever you relate to most), I realized that I was still “me”. I was still the same person I was a couple of hours ago. I’m in the same physical shape, I’ve trained the same way, I’ve prepared for a race, and I’ve lost. That’s all!

I thought about a car race as something similar, and how it feels for a professional driver to crash into the wall and be out for the weekend. What does the driver do?

Come down on himself (or herself)? Stop enjoying car racing? Quit forever?

Well, no. I think you have to look at these as examples and model the thought process of champions. The Edmonton Oilers were down 3-1 in their series with Carolina, and they were all but written off for the Stanley Cup… Now, the series is 3-3 and we’ll find out tomorrow if they can stage the greatest comeback in over 64 years of Stanley Cup championships.

Even the greatest athletes and performers lose, but the greatest of them develop strategies to help them learn or benefit from these losses. Nobody likes to lose, but the true champions don’t view it as a personal disaster or a sign of personal inadequacy. They just decide that this time the approach they had didn’t work, or they weren’t focused completely. They don’t tear themselves apart in response to losing. They simply analyze the loss, and prepare themselves better for the next opportunity.

To lose is to be human. The test is turning the immediate loss into the chance for eventual gain as smoothly, intelligently and soon as possible.

And it is good to recognize those matters that are within your control and those that are outside of it. Flat tires are, in part, pure bad luck. And they happen to almost everybody at some point or another. And, if you race enough, you’re going to get a flat tire during a race. I’d like to think that I had enough good karma to avoid such things, but again, that would have to mean that a flat tire was something personal…

I have failed to meet a goal that I felt I could. I failed to break the 5 hour mark (a long-shot), the 5:30 mark (a realistic goal) or a personal best (5:55 or better). Okay. In fact, I have not even finished.

However, I didn’t TRY to fail. I didn’t go out to fail. I didn’t go out not to give 100% of myself to the race. I was prepared, I was ready. I had a pretty decent swim. In fact, I actually had a personal best in the swim. I swam 38 minutes and 30 seconds, or thereabouts, which is just about a minute faster. I had sighting problems due to old goggles which need replacing (another lesson to learn!). It could be argued that, in my over-zealousness of the race, I had made a couple of key mistakes. The first being not to bring a hand-pump with me on the ride. The second to be to keep my mind concentrated on the road and be conscious of debris. The third to know the rules (had I made sure I knew about having other competitors help, I could have asked for a hand pump from SOMEONE in the race). I can add some others: making sure I carry an extra CO2 cartridge comes to mind right now as well…

So, this particular loss has turned out to be a glorious opportunity to learn something that would otherwise have been difficult to learn under “positive” circumstances. The bottom line is I need to prepare for “worse case” scenarios and be extra prepared, not relying on too few resources to get me through. Carry the pump! It’s easy and doesn’t add much weight!

Mentally, also, I have to acknowledge the challenge of putting this all in perspective. I’m learning how to cope with my own losses, both the ones that are my responsibility and those that are not. It a weird way, this is like a dating relationship gone bad, for apparently no reason. I’ve seen those lately too, and the funny thing is that it is easy to take things too personally, even when they are not really personal. I have the opportunity, in loss, to get to know myself better, test my own strength and re-examine my priorities. Also, I gain perspective on how this all fits in. Triathlon is supposed to be fun, exciting, and rewarding. We risk disappointment when we put our heart out there to wish, hope and dream of something great. Disappointment is, really, a part of the experience sometimes. It doesn’t always feel good, but it is, nonetheless, the one thing that makes finally attaining a goal something more delightful and precious. We have to risk in order to be rewarded. If I wanted safe, as I’ve said in previous blogs, I would stick to something easier. But I’d be less fulfilled, and realizing that I have to accept the possibility of loss. It’s part of the drama and excitement that is sport, and life, and love. Life is full of ups and downs, forward leaps and backwards slides, and plateaus. Stocks go up and down, but over history the market always ends up going up (from my financial advisor days). As long as things keep looking up, there are many other mountains to climb.

Okay, so I failed to accomplish the goal I set out for. But this is not the goal race of the year. This was, in essence, a preparation race, with the bonus of seeing where I was in my physical training through how I performed in each discipline. It cost me a little money to go to Victoria, and I didn’t get a full training weekend in. But, there is a positive there too….

I did get to see some friends have great races. Dominique, who I stayed with in Victoria, had an awesome race. She not only raced a half hour faster than her previous time, but the bigger evidence was in how she was beaming after the race. She was very happy with her results and with how her race went overall, and I think she feels confident about her training heading forward towards the Ironman. The same, I think, can be said for our other roommate for the weekend, Natalie. She had a great swim, and I can tell that she’s pretty pleased with her results as well.

And, watching some of the others from the North Shore Triathlon Club, like John L. with his first triathlon, Nick with a sub-5 hour result (that is AMAZING) or Karen with a strong finish despite having had IT Band issues all year, was worth sticking around for. You can learn a lot watching others compete!

While being a spectator was not what I had in mind, it was definitely worth being around and being inspired by the performances and attitudes of others. This became their day, and each of them had a good story to tell after. A war story, too. I told mine, and it was short, but I knew I didn’t want to get too much into it, for fear of taking something away from everybody else’s days. It would do me no good to upset myself or my friends, or my family. It doesn’t help my future training or performance to lament on a DNF. I am disappointed, but I have to look at the learning experiences that this day has given me. And there are many. I know my over zealousness and generally optimistic attitude has it’s place, but sometimes optimism won’t stop two flat tires… So, I need to take some extra time to consider the possibilities of things NOT going well, or right, on race day. What will I do? How will I be prepared? Now I have an opportunity to make sure I think about as many possibilities as possible. And then, knowing I’m ready, focus on the positives. I can also calm down after the swim, making sure I pay attention to the road, and minimize my danger by simply remaining cautious and aware, especially as I get moving.

What did I learn about myself? What did I learn about those around me? What did I learn that can help me in the future? Now I started to see the losing as a positive experience. It is amazing how less than ideal circumstances have an interesting way of putting you back into control of things.

Oh, and by the way, I discovered the majority of this after packing up my gear, packing it into my car, throwing on my running shoes, and running 10k around beautiful Elk Lake. Nothing like a nice run in the park to put some positive perspective on losing…

And that is my race report for the Victoria Half Ironman! It was a seminar in triathlon preparation 101… I’d say it was worth the $185, and THAT includes a hoodie…