Photos L-R: Ann Lam/dcJohn

For the first two decades of my life, final exams served as a hulking, panic-inducing barrier between me and the freedom of summer. I wasn’t good at taking tests; instead I relied on completing the homework, hiring tutors and attending professors’ office hours to maintain a high grade-point average. The prospect of one major pass-or-fail test terrified me.

Fast-forward nearly two decades and I’ve chosen a lifestyle filled with final exams—and none more daunting than Ironman. I completed my latest a couple weeks ago at Ironman Coeur d’Alene. It might seem logical that crossing the finish line there would determine my “grade.” But my Ironman test didn’t cover physical performance alone. Instead, my race-day exam focused on putting in practice the mental tips I’ve learned through writing this column each month—strategies from pros and amateurs, coaches and sport psychologists alike.

On the physical end of things, I reached a performance plateau months ago.  My coach and I simply weren’t seeing much improvement due to a variety of factors. So how, then, was I able to ultimately go faster in Coeur d’Alene, establishing a new PR by 12 minutes on a tougher course than Arizona? Let’s check my self-graded exam, based on key points covered in my “Mind Games” columns to date.

Ryan cruises to a new PR/Photo by Ann Lam

Chapter One: Overcoming Disappointment

Chrissie Wellington had to overcome the heartbreak last fall of being unable to defend her Ironman World Championship due to illness. Media speculation swirled about a failed drug test, which Wellington had to block out as she recovered and prepared for a triumphant return at Ironman Arizona. With help from her coaches, Wellington created a mental bubble to filter out negativity and only allow positive thoughts to penetrate her psyche. Weeks after her Kona DNS, she set a course record in Tempe.

I made it to race day illness-free, but not without a confidence crisis a few weeks prior to the race that required me to create my own bubble. After a grueling strength training session, my personal trainer told me my body “simply wasn’t cut out for running” and that I should stop altogether post-Ironman. At first I was angry but then I started to wonder if she was right. With the help of my fiancée, we proved my trainer wrong by blocking out the negative and focusing on a new mantra, “I may not be cut out to be a runner, but I’m a runner today.” During the Ironman marathon, I repeated that mantra out loud throughout the afternoon—along with a few other choice phrases I can’t share here—and cruised to a new PR by 30 minutes. Grade: B+ (Though I could have earned extra credit had I written that mantra on one of my water bottles, Chrissie-style.)

Chapter Two: Dealing with OSTB

The Off-Season Training Blues (OSTB) is marked by an over-eagerness to train without proper recovery and suffering physically and mentally as a result. I came down with OSTB late last year after Ironman Arizona, signed up for two races immediately following the event and withdrew from both within weeks due to injury and exhaustion. Considering that I showed up to Coeur d’Alene injury-free and that I haven’t signed up for any races immediately following, I passed this chapter…barely. Almost as soon as I returned home I was back at team pool workouts, and I’ve been caught spinning on my trainer as well. OSTB will continue to be an ongoing challenge. Grade: C

Chapter Three: Putting on the Grey Sweat Suit

In March I wrote about the mental pros and cons associated with training alone—citing a certain boxer from Philadelphia as my “sole model.”  I wrote that “when it comes to race day, we each have to don our own grey sweat suit and slug it out for ourselves.” Nowhere in our sport is this truer than at an Ironman. The training hours can be long, the routes repetitive, and our willpower can vanish. I managed to keep training for my second Ironman fresh by trying new trails and bike rides, cutting back my workouts when I felt tired, and following the intensity levels prescribed in my coached sessions more closely. I listened to my body. On race day, I felt relaxed and prepared to enter the metaphorical ring, though I suffered through several body shots and rabbit punches in the swim! Grade: B

Chapter Four: March of the Triathletes

April’s column focused on mental strategies for open-water swimming from a variety of sources. Speaking of boxing, I employed the “Rope-a-Dope” technique coined by Muhammad Ali and recommended by Triathlon Training Series coach Ian Murray to maintain momentum during the chaotic swim in Lake Coeur d’Alene. Murray suggested that rather than trying to fight the underwater brutality in an open-water swim, it’s best to remain calm and deflect wayward arms and legs that crash into you. This helped immensely as the 54-degree water cramped my legs almost every time someone grabbed onto them. Rather than panicking, I pretended that I was swimming with a pool buoy for the next 100 yards—all upper body, no legs. My cramps ceased almost immediately—the power of positive thinking and visualization. I also borrowed Andy Potts’s breaststroke tip after an overly aggressive start left me panting at the first buoy.  Relaxing for a minute saved me several more as I was able to quickly find my T-pace. Grade: B

Chapter Five: Zen and the Art of Racing

Samantha Warriner has an orange sticker on her passport that says “You Can Only Control the Controllables.” No single phrase or insight helped me more at Ironman Coeur d’Alene than this one. When the energy at my team’s race-site condo became too high, I remembered that I was in control of my situation and could leave whenever I wanted to recharge.  When I realized my watch had been ripped from my wrist during the swim and I’d be cycling and running totally on instinct, I focused on controlling perceived rate of exertion instead of on my lack of control over heart-rate data, cadence, distance, pace and time. Amateur Sonja Wieck’s mental race-day plan helped me visualize every step of the race beforehand, which allowed me to stay focused and relaxed despite losing such an important measurement tool. Her approach worked, and I crossed the finish line within a minute and a half of my expected time–despite not having any idea of my pacing the entire race. Grade: A

Chapter Six: Becoming an Ironman Jedi 

To pass my final exam, I had to meet Chris McCormack—the Jedi Master of mental gamesmanship. He taught me that triathlon racing is won in moments, but in order to win those moments, you have to train in a heightened state of self-awareness. Had I not put in all the time training alone this past year, listening to my body, observing how I felt and blogging about it every night, I probably wouldn’t have been prepared to handle racing an entire day without any watch data—let alone soldiering through cramps during the swim, bike and run. Despite the unexpected twists during my day, I never let it affect my performance. I simply harnessed The Force—the power within myself—to achieve my goals. Grade: B+

So much is written about gaining speed through race wheels, power meters, aero bars and space-age helmets. But since I began writing this column, I’ve realized that learning how to achieve your triathlon goals is maddeningly complex in its simplicity. The answer, it turns out, has far less to do with wetsuits, bikes, and running shoes. It lies within—by training the sort of things money can’t buy.

____________________________________

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.