For Those About to Rock: An Open Letter to Ironman Racers in Taper
In less than two weeks, several of my friends will test their mettle at Ironman Wisconsin, their first go at this challenging distance. I am confident that they will do well, but with all the advice that’s out there about how to taper before a big race, there’s a big piece missing that I think should not be overlooked.
The other day I wrote them a letter about it, then decided that maybe others could benefit from it, too. So, if you are also queued up for a big race, these words probably apply to you as well. I hope you find them helpful. Here is what I wrote.
The Letter
To get where you are today, right now, with the big race just around the corner, it took months of planning, dedication, discipline, sacrifice, and literally gallons of sweat equity. Now the race is less than two weeks away and you find yourselves in a challenging transition period. You are navigating the complexities of adjusting to a taper schedule, sorting logistics, arranging travel, planning nutrition, and coordinating the final details to make sure you optimize your chances of having the best possible outcome on race day.
Overlayed on top of all that busy-ness are the feelings. In taper we reduce volume and gain energy that we can’t work off in the usual way. Pre-race anxiety urges us to do just a little more, doing battle with the knowledge that we should do less. The change in routine is like removing the rudder that has kept our ship pointed in the right direction for so many months. Add to this the usual whorls and eddies of daily emotional currents and it can all combine to leave us feeling a little adrift and anxious for race day.
With all that going on, my thought is to suggest that a couple of times this week and next, do this:
Hit the pause button.
Maybe just before or after a workout, just stop what you are doing. Take a beat. Sit down. Drop anchor. Inhale deeply and let it out slowly. Clear your head and think about the moment you are in right now and how you got there.
Think about how months, or even years ago, you told yourself you were going to race long. You put that giant goal on the calendar, told family and friends, and made the commitment. Then you went about the process of preparing. Nearly every day you did the work, building the foundation block by block by block. Early mornings, cold winter runs, chilly swims, stationary trainers and treadmills, long rides, most of them solo. You showed up and did those things to get where you are today.
Wherever you are right now, in terms of fitness, that is what you will take onto the racecourse; the hardest part is over, the work is done. There are no more workouts you can do that will meaningfully increase your current level. The goal now is to preserve what you have. In two weeks, you will have a chance to test yourself on the racecourse and see if it was enough (spoiler alert: I think it was!).
Until the sun sets on that day the outcome will be an unknown, and your fitness is only one component of much that can happen. The weather gets a vote, the competitors who show up may turn out to be faster (or slower), Pele may challenge you with a puncture or dropped chain mid-race. Your every effort is still no guarantee that the day’s result will be exactly as you imagine it.
But what you do know is this: you have done the work to get to the start line and be as ready as you can possibly be, and that is something to pause and take satisfaction in. Register it in your mind as a win. In fact, chalk it up as hundreds or even thousands of individual wins – every day you showed up and added another block to the foundation was a win. As you sit and reflect, consider that you are doing so perched atop a giant pile of wins that you have been stacking up since before the snow stopped falling so long ago.
Race day will bring what it brings, and you will soldier through it, and I hope it delivers the experience you have dreamt of. But in the “right now” you are already a winner a thousand times over, and it is important to acknowledge that fact.
I did this last Saturday morning. Just before one of my last open water swims. The lake water was glassy flat, inviting me in. There was a hint of color in the trees suggesting the coming fall, a subtle nod to the time invested since the start of serious training. My body felt strong and relaxed, a little tired from a full training week, but also healthy and ready to do the work. There at a picnic table on the beach I took that moment to sit and feel gratitude for the health and opportunity to do this sport, for the many who have helped me on my journey, for the friends I have made along the way, and the chance to share the adventure with them.
It’s a huge part of what keeps me going in triathlon. It’s not the finish line. It’s the journey to the start line, and the daily wins we get to experience along the way.
Two Sundays from now you will race smart, control your effort, stick to your nutrition, and give it everything you have. It will be tough, but you are ready. At the finish line they will call out your name and give you a medal and a hat. Smile for the FinisherPix guy and wear your new bling proudly. Absolutely revel in the moment; it is a one-of-a kind experience and you have earned it. Finish line “feels” are amazing. But it’s important to recognize, too, at this point, you don’t need someone else to give you swag to know you are strong. In making it this far, you have proven that already.
As an Ironman, you were not forged on the day of the race. Your ability to finish the race is the result of a thousand hammer blows you have applied over the preceding year or more. Now the work is done, and it is appropriate to take satisfaction in what you have created.
So hit pause. Sit. Breathe. Reflect. And feel good about what you have already accomplished. Few on this planet can claim the title of Ironman; you will soon be among them. The habits you have formed and the discipline you have discovered will serve you in the years ahead, well beyond some arbitrary finish line or even the sporting world.
As for the big day – the pressure is off. Relax and let the race be a celebration of all you have accomplished. Have fun, find the joy in the day, and show everyone else what you’ve been working so hard on.
I’ll be racing that day too, a few time zones ahead of you. Soon after I cross my finish line, I’ll be pulling up the tracker, and pulling for you all the way to yours.
Race Happy!
Ken
