This has been sitting in the cue for a while, but since I quit my job of 14 years on Friday, it’s probably the perfect time to release a post on transition.
You’re running bare foot down a rough concrete path, soaking wet, and your heart is racing. Next stop, your bike where you will fry your legs on relentless hills. Often the quality of your ride will depend on how you handle the first two miles.
This all plays perfectly into a gem of an insight I found while reading “The Art of Learning” by Joshua Waitzkin. He was talking about how he had trouble adapting to new cities because he traveled so much. He missed his friends, family, home, etc. But after a few days, he would always settle in and things would be better.
At some point he figured out that these were moments of “transition” and once he recognized that, he was able to turn up his focus and pay even more attention to being in the moment. I thought this was a really cool insight that relates well to triathlon because, as we know, not much feels more awkward than getting off a bike to run.
Even biking after swimming takes a completely different mindset. I can’t speak for everyone, but typically I’m breathing for dear life when I get on the bike and it’s everything I can do to slow my heart rate.
So, these transitions in life and triathlon are very similar. It’s adapting, shifting your mind, and possibly more important, having faith.
I started thinking about this and one of my biggest transitional challenges happens every morning. I wake up and feel completely unmotivated. Somehow I have to shift gears and get into work mode. That’s something that should, by nature, take time, but more often than not I go from zero to 50 in an hour.
It reminded me of something I noticed in the splits of my old neighbor’s race at Ironman Louisville last year. He got tenth overall and first in his age group. He swam solid, rocked the bike, then ran a 7:35 pace for the marathon. But what I noticed was that his first two miles were extremely slow (for him). Like over 9 minute pace. He transitioned and let his body wake up for the run, then killed it.
This is the “patience part” of triathlon that I need to give more credibility. In my last race at Rev3, I got up super early to do easy yoga and some meditation. I felt like I was awake when it was time to swim.
But I got on the bike with my heart rate out of control. My time was decent, but I can’t help wonder if I shouldn’t have taken it a little easier on the first couple miles, woke up, then hammered it. The entire ride I was flirting with heavy breathing and I don’t think that’s my best play.
My legs were super tight off the bike, so I was forced to ease into the run and by the end was running my best. Slow start, negative split. That isn’t a term for nothing. It works.
REv3 was an Olympic, and you can get away with little mistakes, but at Ironman, I will really need to carry that transition mindset into the next event.
Post Script: Yes, I quit my job. It was 100% my decision and long overdue. I kept making a list of pros and cons, wants and needs, and the one thing that always came to the top for me was, freedom. Freedom to do the things I want to do and spend time with people that inspire me.
It is now day 3 of freedom and couldn’t be going better. I have some exciting opportunities in play and possibly more important, I feel substantially healthier. I’m also more relaxed and in a better mood. My genuine love for triathlon has resurfaced and that is another important side bar. I love movement, sport, and challenge and am excited to jump into new waters. I just have to remember to ease into the transition.