Mind Games: Becoming an Ironman Jedi
An amateur picks the brain one of the sport's best minds
June 6, 2011
Photo by John Goode
In a place far, far away from my home, in the outer reaches of our planet, there lives a wise sage. A warrior and a philosopher. He is revered or reviled, depending on your point of view.
For the past few months, a voice from within has urged me to go to him.
Macca. You seek Macca.
My training wouldn’t be complete until I sought his counsel. Why? I’m peaking for my second Ironman in seven months. While I haven’t stood upside down with one hand balancing rocks on my feet, I’ve done practically everything else to physically prepare myself for this epic quest.
Call me Luke Tri-Walker.
But as we all know, power, skill and strength alone are not enough to overcome the dark side of the Force at an Ironman: Doubt. Fear. Pain. Suffering. To become an Ironman Jedi, mental strength is what’s needed most, perhaps even a little gamesmanship.
Macca. You seek Macca.
Macca, or Chris McCormack as he’s known to the unsuspecting, is arguably the ultimate Jedi master when it comes to combining natural physical gifts with a near-unmatched ability to outwit and outlast his competitors. He’s won two Ironman World Championships, 12 Ironman events and seven World Cup Championships—but I’m not interested in the stats.
I want to know how. Reading Macca’s recently released book, I’m Here to Win, wouldn’t be enough. I needed to hear from him directly.
How could Macca help me gain an extra advantage at the Battle of Ironman Coeur d’Alene on June 26th? The answers, Macca assured me on the phone from Australia, lay not in watts, heart rate or miles-per-hour alone. On several occasions, he even went so far as to say that the physical side of the sport is “bullshit.” Reaching one’s true potential at Ironman requires going much deeper.
“Any orangutan can train, I can train a bloody dog!” Macca quipped. He explained further that the basic keys to success at Ironman are understanding that the race is won in moments, and, controlling emotion under extreme physical and mental stress to capitalize on those moments when they present themselves.
“If you become a slave to a tool you get further from that feeling. You become a robot. I love racing robots.”
Macca knows the last point well. He held off Andreas Raelert by running through an aid station as the German took a brief break in the final mile of the marathon to win Kona last year in one of Ironman’s closest finishes. But for a mortal age-grouper, what does it mean to “win Ironman” in moments? Outside of establishing a new personal best or beating a friend, most of our victories are intangible.
Winning at Ironman starts with proper training, but not of the physical kind. It involves being mentally engaged in every training session, writing down every thought and emotion post-workout that crosses your mind to avoid what Macca calls “training on autopilot.” It is only then can you begin to transform quality training into quality racing.
“All the positive motivational people sit there and say that you gotta want it and all this crap,” Macca said with customary bluntness. “It’s not crap, you do gotta want it, but you gotta know how to want it. You just want to make this set objective and you don’t really push yourself and you don’t really understand where you’re at in that point, on that fine line of pain, of ecstasy and absolute agony.”
This is where Macca shines, melding mind and body to operate as one. Macca believes most triathletes overlook staring directly into their own personal dark side of the Force because of what they may find. Inspired by mentors such as Mark Allen, Dave Scott, and Mike Pigg, Macca has explored that painful abyss willingly—and harnessed it as his own personal lightsaber. He has developed a second-nature sense of what his body is telling him—at any point in a race—through years of mental training.
Better yet, he’s done it without relying heavily on electronic tools such as power meters. While Macca sees the role for such devices, he’d rather trust his instincts. In fact, Macca prefers to race against other athletes who bury their helmets in their computer units, singling out European pros as the primary offenders. They’re more predictable because they stay within pre-determined power zones and are therefore easier to beat. But Macca has observed that when athletes talk about having a great race, they often say “I just felt right” rather than focusing on their performance stats. “It’s a feeling,” Macca said. “If you become a slave to a tool you get further from that feeling. You become a robot. I love racing robots.”
When Macca isn’t destroying those droids in the water or on the road, he’s using his mental powers to spar with them in the press. A larger influx of talent through the years has taught Macca the importance of racing smarter, not harder. Part of those smarts involves breaking down what makes a competitor tick, finding a physical or mental weakness and exploiting it. “Racing shows a lot about someone’s character,” Macca said. “If you don’t want me to pick on you then don’t take a pro card.”
My time with Macca passed almost as quickly as it takes to enter Hyperspace. I left Master Macca’s world a little wiser than when I had arrived, feeling that perhaps, at last, my Ironman training is complete. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from writing this column and delving into the minds of the sport’s biggest stars, it’s that the fastest athlete doesn’t necessarily win. Several pros are capable of brilliance on any given day, but most of the time their biggest enemy is themselves. Gaining that elusive mental advantage on race day doesn’t come from a well-placed jab in the press or a coordinated bike assault amidst the crosswinds in Hawaii’s lava fields. It starts with training in a heightened state of self-awareness, continues with years of studying the competition and the sport’s history, and flourishes with a relentless desire to win the race through any legal means possible.
While there is only one Chris McCormack, there is room for many more Jedi Knights in the sport.
May the Force be with you.
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Ryan Schneider is an Ironman triathlete and blogger who works in brand development when he’s not swimming, biking or running. You can read his blog at ironmadman.com, follow him on Twitter (@theironmadman), and read his monthly column right here.
