I was in the midst of a self-destroying a pro snowboard career when triathlon popped up. The short story is, I started to tell myself that I sucked. That destroys your confidence and in a sport like snowboarding if you're not 110% confident you get seriously hurt, or worse. Giving up snowboarding gave me a major life lesson in psychology that I just had to learn myself because if someone else had told me I wouldn't have listened anyway. The lesson is how self-talk can ultimately destroy things we love, but if we worked consistently at it, it can also take us to whole new levels. This stands up no matter the domain; sports, business, relationships - you name it. So when I started in triathlon, it was new, it was fresh, and there were lots of lessons, but the camaraderie was there and quitting the sport because of the challenges was never a thought.
I had seen Greg Welch win Kona on Wide World of Sports and thought that would be something I'd have to do one day. Blissful ignorance. The true beginning of the triathlon journey was in 2002 with my wife, Charlotte. She said she was bored with going to the gym and running on a treadmill, and wanted to join a run squad and run a marathon. We found a club, problem was - the group was very much geared towards Ironman and it was bloody infectious.
I remember watching the triathlon at the Sydney Olympics in 2000. I was still very much a punk-ass snowboarder at the time, and I thought that two hours was a bloody long time for a race. Yet, two years later Charlotte and I were fully into triathlon, doing our first half ironman and working towards our first full IM.
"My snowboarding career was more like a fuck you. I know they (the parents) didn't like it that much, so I was out on a tear to prove people wrong. If someone tells me I can't, it's like pouring gasoline onto a fire."
I'm not terrible at any sport! My little sister recently got the shits with me -- in a friendly way -- saying 'is there anything sports wise you're not good at?' I seem to have a healthy belief that I can play any sport and that with time, focus and dedication I'd get to a respectable level. Is that ego, arrogance? I'm not sure, but I became a pro snowboarder when I didn't step foot on snow until I was 16 or 17. I just believed I could be as good as those guys.
Triathlon took a while longer; 5 years or so. In that time I went from an 11:27 first Ironman to a sub 9-hour age group champion. I'm a huge advocate of showing up when you show up, and I also believe that who you choose to show up with also plays a big role in your success. Charlotte and I had the same visions, we showed up daily, many times together and we surrounded ourselves with others doing the same. This elevated the collective. I guess success begets success.
I'll be an athlete to the day I die. I don't consider triathlon my only thing because there are just too many rad disciplines out there. This past summer I got to climb Mt Rainier with a mate - it's addictive, so right now Charlotte and I are exploring ultra-running and really loving it. Though I see some alpine & ski mountaineering/climbing/fastpacking in the future.
These things make me feel alive. I turn 40 next month and I definitely want to continue to grab life big and instil that in my son and those I come into contact with.
"There's no doubt that many of us feel the pull towards these events and undertakings as there is definitely some level of escapism involved. The key is keeping that healthy."
If you have not done the physical and mental work, I believe when things get tough on the field of play (and they will get tough) you'll be screwed. Your mind will become your biggest enemy. You will start doubting everything you have done. Your mind will go off into a pretty crazy negative story and you could end up creating your own self-fulfilling prophecy.
But when you jump in with both feet your mind will work with and for you. If you've done the psychological and physiological work, you'll have created strategies and even systems for when it does get tough.
I've been pretty good at beating myself up over the years, but it does nothing for you other than make you feel worse. When it goes to shit, I pare it all back and not only embrace the feeling, the current moment, the discomfort, I use self-talk that I've used hundreds, if not thousands of times already, and I focus on the smallest impossible-to-fail step. I also look for some perspective, and that is game changing.
If you've prepared well, you can feel like shit all day and still surprise yourself with fantastic results.
"We are told that curiosity killed the cat. Ok, maybe a few, but more dreams have been killed by not being curious. Being curious is a way to mind blowing results."
So many people inspire me. Not just sportspeople, though my connection is usually stronger to those in sports. Take the man behind the lens of many of the photos in this piece (Matt Clark) - I love how this guy shows up, doesn't conform to the status quo and is willing to be places to get those windows of opportunity. The way he goes about his business speaks volumes.
My wife inspires me. She is the quiet, smiling assassin. You've been forewarned.
My little sister also inspires me. I think I'm tough, but seeing her handle leukaemia and chemo, nothing compares to that. She is tough as nails and a fighter, all while still being a drama queen at times (said in love) and I absolutely love seeing her successes. She is the quintessential go-getter.
We lost a friend in early December, an amazing endurance athlete, husband, dad, coach and philanthropist. Craig Percival was simply an amazing human being. But dying at 45 with a wife and two kids is tragic. Craig went in for a routine arthroscopy and days later a couple of blood clots moved to his heart. This still rips me apart on so many levels. Last year, Craig did 8 Ironmans in 8 days in 8 different states & territories in Australia, for the John Maclean Foundation.
Craig, like many endurance athletes, followed the advised carb-centric approach. People are saying that endurance activities are too much. I disagree. I believe it's the way we have been going about doing these activities that have led to unintended consequences. For me, there is too many "what if's", especially as a coach to many athletes. The Hippocratic Oath is 'do no harm', and Craig's passing has clarified my purpose in coaching endurance athletes. Yes, we can get awe-inspiring performances but they don't have to come at the expense of long-term health and it's my mission to show how.
Balancing everything is a tough ask and I'm not sure that there is ever true balance. There will be times where the balance is skewed towards a project, an endeavour or something of importance. The key, I think is not keeping it skewed that way for too long, let the pendulum swing back and give time back to the other meaningful areas.
As a coach, one thing that surprises a lot of new triathletes is that you can still run (relatively) fast when you've destroyed your cycling legs on the bike. There's obviously specificity of training that allows you to do that, but I see so many athlete logs that say something akin to: "I didn't think I would be able to run well off the bike today because my legs were fried, yet I just had my most amazing run ever!". Usually because they haven't yet grasped that you can tax your bike legs whilst saving your legs for the run. The problem is triathlon is thought of as swim + bike + run when in fact it's swimbikerun and everything counts.
"Settling for mediocrity. I think the tragedy is choosing the path of least resistance and always searching for easy, or a shortcut or a hack. We've been sold on comfort and I think that hurts more than it helps."
Before a race, I'm shitting myself...isn't everyone?
When we sign up we know the time and the date of the race start. So I see it as my responsibility to be as fully prepared as I can be for when that cannon goes off. Am I nervous? Hell yes, actually I'd be worried if I wasn't because then I'd question if this was important to me or not.
I really love the scariness of lining up when you know you're in good shape. When you know you have a shot; a feeling worth chasing. So what is my inner voice saying? I'm a big believer in mantras, affirmations and visualising. It works. So I'm the same broken record that I've curated throughout my training. But I'm deliberate on the timing of the volume.
Five minutes before an Ironman start I'm not cranking the volume to 11 like Spinal Tap. That would be stupid. I just trust in my preparedness and let the excitement build. I focus on my breathing and prep myself for my trained race take out speed. I trust in myself and the journey I have taken to this point. I smile, and my inner voice says thank you -- to myself, to my supporters and to the athletes I coach.
And then it's show time.
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