The Lonely Triathlete

[PREVIEW] Being Race Ready

5 min · 21 de jun de 2026
Portada del episodio [PREVIEW] Being Race Ready

Descripción

Getting race ready requires a plan and patience. It requires consistency. It requires boring determination. Then you have to show up on race day and swim, bike and run to the best of your ability. Simple, isn't it? ---------------------------------------- TRANSCRIPT Happy Fathers Day and Welcome back to The Lonely Triathlete. Well… this is it. Eight months of training comes down to this. In just over a week, on June 28th, I’ll be lining up at the start line with a goal that, honestly, would have seemed pretty ambitious a few years ago. I’m going to attempt to qualify for the Triathlon Age Group World Championships. And the funny thing is… I actually think I have a shot. Now, before anyone thinks I’m getting ahead of myself, let me explain. Last year at this same race, I finished first in my age category. Which sounds pretty impressive. Except there’s a small detail. I was the only person in my category. So technically, yes, I was first. But I was also first because I was the only one. And that’s one of the funny things about endurance sports. You can prepare, you can train, you can execute — but there are still so many things completely outside your control. Who shows up. Who is having the race of their life. Who has been training specifically for that event. And that’s why I’m trying not to obsess about the competition. That said, I do think there are a few things that could work in my favour. This qualifier has not been heavily promoted. In fact, even knowing that this was a qualification race, I had trouble finding much information about it. So maybe that means fewer people are chasing those qualification spots. Maybe someone fast shows up and beats me — but they didn’t realize there were extra steps required to actually qualify. Who knows? The other thing is there is a potential rival I’m watching. He beat me by about a minute at the Vancouver Standard distance race in 2024. A minute. That’s not a huge gap. That’s the difference between a good transition and a slow one. A slightly better swim. A smarter bike. A stronger run. But he is also racing at the World Championships at the Sprint distance in Spain later this year, so it’s possible he won’t be targeting this Standard distance race. Again though — all of that is speculation. And that brings me to the only thing I actually control. The preparation. So what have I done since October to give myself the best possible chance? Number one: consistency. I started training back in October and I have put in six days a week of training consistently. And that is the thing I’m probably most proud of. Not one huge workout. Not one heroic training week. Just showing up. Week after week. The swim sessions. The bike sessions. The runs. The recovery. The boring stuff. Because that’s where endurance fitness is built. The race is just the final exam. The work happened months ago. The second thing I’m really excited about is my bike fitness. My FTP is the highest it has ever been. I’m sitting around 270 watts. And my watts per kilogram is also the highest it has ever been — around 3.43 watts per kilogram. For me, that’s a huge milestone. Because the goal isn’t just to be fit. The goal is to be fit enough that I can swim, bike, and still run well. That’s the challenge of triathlon. Then there are the little things. The marginal gains. Because if you’re a triathlete, you know exactly what I mean. At some point you start looking for every possible advantage. This year I added aerodynamic calf sleeves. Will they make a difference? Hopefully. Maybe they save me a few watts. Maybe those few watts add up. I’ve also got a new pair of Speed Laces ready for my race shoes. Because it makes absolutely no sense to spend eight months training and then waste 15 seconds in transition tying your shoes. I am fully aware of how silly it is to spend money on marginal gains but the reality is, as a mid or back-of-the-packer while these things don't matter, once you've done everything in your power to hit the podium and yet fall 1 minute short, it is an option to try and squeeze that minute from a slightly faster pair of shoes or by shaving your foreams or by getting those extra massage sessions. What else? Well, I’ve also got my new pair of TheMagic5 Vector goggles ready to go. A leak-free swim and clear vision is a pretty good way to start the race. And nutrition is another big focus this year. I’ve switched to Precision Fuel and Hydration. I’m loading more electrolytes before the race, and I’m carrying more electrolytes with me on the bike and run. Now, can I say for certain that electrolytes were a limiter for me? No. Especially at the Olympic distance. But I strongly suspect they hurt me during my 70.3 last year. So this year I’d rather go into the race slightly overprepared than underprepared. Speaking of things outside the plan… If you follow my Patreon, you’ll know I had a bit of a scare two weeks ago. I hurt my back. I think it happened during swimming, and for about three days I was in significant discomfort. It affected my sleep. It affected my ability to train. And the decision I made was probably one of the hardest decisions for an athlete: I stopped. I took eight full days completely off training. And in hindsight hat was the right decision. I’ve also seen a chiropractor twice. And I’ll admit — I’ve had reservations about chiropractors in the past. That’s probably a topic for another episode. But I have to say, I’ve been really impressed with the care I received. Not just the treatment itself, but the exercise recommendations and stretching protocols afterward. That homework has probably been just as valuable as the treatment. The other little experiment I’ve added is supplementing with 200 milligrams a day of Ubiquinol. This is the more bioavailable form of CoQ10. There are some studies suggesting potential benefits for endurance and recovery. Now, the frustrating part is that these things take time. Apparently four to six weeks for meaningful levels in the body. So I’m probably not going to see some magical transformation before race day. But if it gives me even the smallest advantage? I’ll take it. At this point, there really isn’t much more I can do. Other than one thing. Stay calm. There is a fine line between preparation and obsession. Between having a plan and trying to control every single variable. The weather. The competition. The exact race conditions. You can’t control those things. You can only control how you respond. Im happy to see that at the moent the forecast is looking pretty ideal. Cool temperatures. Blue skies. A great day for racing. So my goal for the final week is to be Zen about the things I can’t control. I want to show up prepared. I want to execute my race. I want to challenge myself. Yes, I want to qualify for Worlds. That’s the goal. But at the end of the day, the reason I do this sport is bigger than a result. It’s the feeling of pushing myself. It’s being surrounded by other people who live this strange triathlon lifestyle. It’s knowing that I gave my best. And regardless of the outcome, I know I’ll come away with either satisfaction, insight, or both. And why does any of this matter to me as a 58 year old amateur? Because as I age it is becoming increasingly clear that life is not forever. Every day brings a headline that a childhood hero or celebrity has passed away. More and more often I'm hearing of friends with sudden health issues. Personally, I'm experiencing injuries at a higher rate than ever. I realize that our time in this sport has a limit and while we never can never know where that limit is, it's out there somewhere on the horizon. So… The countdown begins once again. June 28th. Let’s see what happens. Until next time, peace

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episode Triathlon Injuries and the Five Stages of Grief artwork

Triathlon Injuries and the Five Stages of Grief

We all get injured and we all deal with it differently. It recently occurred to me that I seem to go through stages of grief when I am injured. And I don't make the best decisions for my long term health until I reach the last stage. ---------------------------------------- Join the fun at www.patreon.com/thelonelytriathlete [https://www.patreon.com/thelonelytriathlete] ---------------------------------------- TRANSCRIPT Triathlon Injuries and The 5 Stages of Grief Today I want to use the 5 Stages of Grief as a framework to talk about how we, as triathletes, often experience injuries. The Five Stages of Grief weren't actually created to explain sports injuries—or even the grief we feel after someone dies. They were originally observations of people facing their own mortality. Modern psychology tells us grief isn't nearly that tidy. But I've found those five emotions to be a surprisingly useful lens for understanding what happens in my own head every time an injury threatens a session or perhaps a season. As a quick recap, 3 weeks before my end of June race, I hurt my back. And I mean, I really hurt it. I had to take 8 complete days away from training and there were a few moments where I entertained the possibility that I might not be able to race in the World Championship qualifying race that I had been training for for 9 months. With all of my focus on rest, recovery, nutrition, medical attention and every marginally effective treatment I could think of, I managed to get to a place where I thought I might be able to race pain-free. And then, on the Friday before the Sunday race I hurt a different part of my back or neck. Once again, I faced difficult emotions but with luck on my side (and a million units of pain killer in my system) I managed to perform an all-time best race and secure my invitation to join Team Canada and represent at the World Triathlon Championships in Germany next year. My plan was to recover this past week, then get in some short hard efforts next week and once again race a Standard Distance here in Victoria. A race where I came 2nd in my category last year. Yet when I woke up this morning, I had difficuly walking due to a really sore hip. So, once again, I am forced to take extra time off for injury. And it reminded me that I seem to go through the same emotional journey every single time I get injured. I don't think it's just disappointment—I think it's grief. Not grief because someone died, but grief because, in a way, the athlete I thought I was for the next few weeks suddenly disappeared. So, what are the 5 Stage of Grief? And remember, we don't always go through them all and we don't necessarily go through them in a linear order. Stage 1: Denial "I'll be fine." My typical thoughts: It's just tight. I'll loosen up tomorrow. I'll still do my long run. Maybe I'll just bike instead. As triathletes, or simply very motivated people, we often tend to ignore warning signs because training has taught us to push through discomfort. No pain, no gain, right? And if you are anything like me, you've probably Googled 'Can I run on a torn [blank]?' hoping the internet says yes. You know who you are. Stage 2: Anger "This isn't fair." This is where frustration appears. Examples: Why now? I was finally getting fit. Everyone else is training. I did everything right. The timing is unbelievable! If you find yourself in this stage my advice to you would be to avoid social media because it can be almost unbearable to see friends and competitors on Strava crushing their workouts. Stage 3: Bargaining This is probably the funniest stage. "If I only run easy..." "What if I skip intervals and do some Base work instead?" "I'll wear compression sleeves." "I'll ice it." "I'll take one more recovery day." "I'll only run downhill." This is where athletes become expert negotiators with themselves. Now, there is nothing wrong with trying to find a logical, reasonable compromise to work around an injury but realize this is a very dangerous place to be. There is a fine line between "getting through an injury" and "making it much worse". Stage 4: Sadness This is the hardest part. The realization sets in: I'm going to lose fitness. That race might be over. My routine is gone. My identity takes a hit. We feel this way because training isn't just exercise — it's structure, stress relief, community, and confidence. Losing it feels much bigger than just missing a workout. Finally, Stage 5: Acceptance This is where good decisions FINALLY happen. Instead of asking: "How do I save this race?" You begin asking: "What's the smartest way forward?" Examples: Seeing a physiotherapist. Following a rehab plan. Adjusting goals. Cross-training. Sleeping more. Letting HEALING become the training. I've noticed that I can't skip straight to LOGIC. My brain wants to BARGAIN first. It wants to find shortcuts and loopholes. But eventually I reach acceptance, and that's when I actually start making good decisions. The sooner I recognize the emotional process, the sooner I stop fighting reality and start healing. I think it's been the realization that I need to go through these stages of grief when I am injured that have allowed me to stay calmer, cooler, less emotionally charged from my recent setbacks. It isn't easy at any level but the more quickly I move to acceptance, the more quickly I can begin to heal. And while we can't always control how quickly we get to that level the mere fact of recognizing what is happening to us emotionally is one of the biggest pieces of that puzzle. So, if you're injured right now, maybe give yourself a little grace. You might not just be dealing with sore muscles—you might be grieving the session, sessions or even season you thought you were going to have. That's normal. Just don't make permanent training decisions based on TEMPORARY EMOTIONS. Until next time, Peace

6 de jul de 202612 min
episode [PREVIEW] Triathlon Injuries and the Five Stages of Grief artwork

[PREVIEW] Triathlon Injuries and the Five Stages of Grief

We all get injured and we all deal with it differently. It recently occurred to me that I seem to go through stages of grief when I am injured. And I don't make the best decisions for my long term health until I reach the last stage. ---------------------------------------- Join the fun at www.patreon.com/thelonelytriathlete [https://www.patreon.com/thelonelytriathlete] ---------------------------------------- TRANSCRIPT Triathlon Injuries and The 5 Stages of Grief Today I want to use the 5 Stages of Grief as a framework to talk about how we, as triathletes, often experience injuries. The Five Stages of Grief weren't actually created to explain sports injuries—or even the grief we feel after someone dies. They were originally observations of people facing their own mortality. Modern psychology tells us grief isn't nearly that tidy. But I've found those five emotions to be a surprisingly useful lens for understanding what happens in my own head every time an injury threatens a session or perhaps a season. As a quick recap, 3 weeks before my end of June race, I hurt my back. And I mean, I really hurt it. I had to take 8 complete days away from training and there were a few moments where I entertained the possibility that I might not be able to race in the World Championship qualifying race that I had been training for for 9 months. With all of my focus on rest, recovery, nutrition, medical attention and every marginally effective treatment I could think of, I managed to get to a place where I thought I might be able to race pain-free. And then, on the Friday before the Sunday race I hurt a different part of my back or neck. Once again, I faced difficult emotions but with luck on my side (and a million units of pain killer in my system) I managed to perform an all-time best race and secure my invitation to join Team Canada and represent at the World Triathlon Championships in Germany next year. My plan was to recover this past week, then get in some short hard efforts next week and once again race a Standard Distance here in Victoria. A race where I came 2nd in my category last year. Yet when I woke up this morning, I had difficuly walking due to a really sore hip. So, once again, I am forced to take extra time off for injury. And it reminded me that I seem to go through the same emotional journey every single time I get injured. I don't think it's just disappointment—I think it's grief. Not grief because someone died, but grief because, in a way, the athlete I thought I was for the next few weeks suddenly disappeared. So, what are the 5 Stage of Grief? And remember, we don't always go through them all and we don't necessarily go through them in a linear order. Stage 1: Denial "I'll be fine." My typical thoughts: It's just tight. I'll loosen up tomorrow. I'll still do my long run. Maybe I'll just bike instead. As triathletes, or simply very motivated people, we often tend to ignore warning signs because training has taught us to push through discomfort. No pain, no gain, right? And if you are anything like me, you've probably Googled 'Can I run on a torn [blank]?' hoping the internet says yes. You know who you are. Stage 2: Anger "This isn't fair." This is where frustration appears. Examples: Why now? I was finally getting fit. Everyone else is training. I did everything right. The timing is unbelievable! If you find yourself in this stage my advice to you would be to avoid social media because it can be almost unbearable to see friends and competitors on Strava crushing their workouts. Stage 3: Bargaining This is probably the funniest stage. "If I only run easy..." "What if I skip intervals and do some Base work instead?" "I'll wear compression sleeves." "I'll ice it." "I'll take one more recovery day." "I'll only run downhill." This is where athletes become expert negotiators with themselves. Now, there is nothing wrong with trying to find a logical, reasonable compromise to work around an injury but realize this is a very dangerous place to be. There is a fine line between "getting through an injury" and "making it much worse". Stage 4: Sadness This is the hardest part. The realization sets in: I'm going to lose fitness. That race might be over. My routine is gone. My identity takes a hit. We feel this way because training isn't just exercise — it's structure, stress relief, community, and confidence. Losing it feels much bigger than just missing a workout. Finally, Stage 5: Acceptance This is where good decisions FINALLY happen. Instead of asking: "How do I save this race?" You begin asking: "What's the smartest way forward?" Examples: Seeing a physiotherapist. Following a rehab plan. Adjusting goals. Cross-training. Sleeping more. Letting HEALING become the training. I've noticed that I can't skip straight to LOGIC. My brain wants to BARGAIN first. It wants to find shortcuts and loopholes. But eventually I reach acceptance, and that's when I actually start making good decisions. The sooner I recognize the emotional process, the sooner I stop fighting reality and start healing. I think it's been the realization that I need to go through these stages of grief when I am injured that have allowed me to stay calmer, cooler, less emotionally charged from my recent setbacks. It isn't easy at any level but the more quickly I move to acceptance, the more quickly I can begin to heal. And while we can't always control how quickly we get to that level the mere fact of recognizing what is happening to us emotionally is one of the biggest pieces of that puzzle. So, if you're injured right now, maybe give yourself a little grace. You might not just be dealing with sore muscles—you might be grieving the session, sessions or even season you thought you were going to have. That's normal. Just don't make permanent training decisions based on TEMPORARY EMOTIONS. Until next time, Peace

6 de jul de 20265 min