My Version Of The Way Back Machine

I realized that I've not ever gone back and given the full story of the triathlon training clinic. Since it was the reason we drove across country in the first place, it's a pretty big thing to leave out. (The half marathon, the national parks, the monuments, and the fabulous bloggy peep meet ups all fell into place as we began planning but the reason for the trip was the clinic.) So. Dialing back almost three weeks - here is what it looked like as we drove into Pacific Grove, California on Saturday, August 2nd:
Yes. Summer mornings in the Monterey area haven't changed much in the twenty plus years since I was stationed there. Our instructions were to meet at Lover's Point - at the corner of Ocean View and 17th. How hard could that be? Welllll - it was slightly more challenging than expected. We got there a bit early and saw several clumps of athletic folks meeting up. But most of them either hopped on bikes and sped away before we got up the courage to approach or they started strapping on scuba gear. Hmmmm. We finally spotted a couple of exceedingly fit people talking to a couple of somewhat less fit people who had plastic PowerBar schwag bags in their hands. Score! We'd found our clinic. (Digression and plug by a totally impressed newbie: Both the training clinic and our race (the Triathlon at Pacific Grove) are run by Tri-California Events - the same people who also run Wildflower and Escape From Alcatraz. They are exceedingly well organized and friendly. You would not believe how much safer and more excited I feel about the race having experienced their level of service and communication at the clinic.)

Tri-California Events runs several of these training clinics to help people prepare for the particular challenges of their specific events. Our clinic was the perfect blend of general beginner triathlon information and specific guidance and practice on how to swim through the kelp forest of Monterey Bay. We totally lucked out in that usually these clinics sell out and have about two dozen people in them. Ours only had eight. I think the next day's group was twice as large but for us it was almost like a personal coaching session as there were three coaches. And again, we had the perfect mix. All three coaches had different styles, experiences, and takes on triathlon. That is Reid Swanson in the picture. He was the main organizer, head speaker, facilitator coach. His wife Eileen Swanson was our second coach. (Thanks Stef for the link to her blog!) Eileen is a professional triathlete and coach. She and Reid are both blindingly beautiful and intimidatingly fit. But nice and funny! And they brought their puppy, Belle, who was darling. Our third coach was Les Waddel. Les is ridiculously cool. He was every bit as fit as Eileen and Reid but he's very old school. (In fact he cracked the group up twice talking about speedos - but one of the times he was using the word "speedo" to mean speedometer on the bike. That cleared up some of the confusion his earlier image had created but it made everyone laugh again anyway.) Les has been doing triathlon for as long as triathlon's been around. The man knows about every aspect of the sport. He's owned a running store and designed wetsuits; he leads open water swims; he has a daughter (Alexis) who is a pro now; I think he may be a doctor or chiro or something; and he's very down to earth. He has a great perspective on the sport and had some funny insights to share. As I said, we had a great mix of coaches that fit perfectly with our group. We had two guys and one girl who were quite speedy but pretty new to triathlon and the rest of us were back of the packers (although two of the gals had done quite a few races.)

The structure of the clinic was that we had a general briefing and then the coaches took us on the course. Bike first and then run; a lunch break with some good nutritional info and general Q&A time; then the swim in the afternoon. Knowing how crazy it's going to sound, I'm going to say it anyway: we paid for the full clinic and drove all the way out there, but I only did the swim portion. Donna did both the bike and the swim but skipped the run. Not only did we have the half marathon the next day that we wanted fresh legs for, but I used to run all over that area and felt pretty comfortable about being able to train myself for the course. (Granted it's been decades, but the land hasn't changed much.) The swim - that's a whole other thing. I did learn to scuba in those kelp forests but it's an entirely different matter to have to swim through the leafy tops quickly instead of winding slowly around the majestic bases 60 feet down. There was also an emotional reset I need to make in that water before race day. My goal is to be back there, where I was once a broken person, stronger and happier now than ever before. The Pacific - that cold, dark, punishing water - was my safest haven back then. I could throw myself in and scream and thrash and wear myself out deep underwater where no one could find out how bad off I was. Driving around the outskirts of the base, seeing landmarks and gaps where there used to be landmarks - all of that triggered my brain, my mental processes for sorting out the past. But it was wondering what visceral memories might get triggered by being submerged in that icy water for the first time since I left my broken self behind - that had me shaking with nervousness all morning. I definitely needed a reset.

I listened to everything and asked a lot of question. (I'm sure it will surprise you not to learn that I asked an obnoxious number of questions. Had there been more people or had any piece of it been running over schedule, I promise I would have shut up - but there was time and there were coaches who had answers. And there were fellow new-ish triathletes with stories I wanted to hear. How could I not ask questions of everybody? You learn such interesting stuff when you ask!)

One of the most important things I picked up on from having three coaches answer the same question is that the answer was almost always along the lines of "it depends". There are very few answers or solutions or tips that apply across the board. It can be overwhelming when you're brand new to keep hearing that you have to experiment, that it's trial and error for every single, solitary aspect of triathlon. It feels like there's so safe or solid place to even start. But what I took away from this clinic was that there are so many ways to do it right. There is a way to make it work for everybody. For every "how do I ..." question that was asked there were (at least) three different answers. It was great to hear what worked and what didn't work and why from each of them. In a discussion about transitions and how to lay out your stuff, Les was saying that he has his helmet and glasses right up on his aerobars so he doesn't even have to bend down to his towel to get them. Eileen said she can't do that because of how her aerobars are shaped. Reid then pointed out that Les is a very fast swimmer - almost always one of the first out of the water so he never has to worry about someone jostling his bike and knocking his stuff over before he gets there. Having that many answers together helped me think more clearly about my own framework. It helped to hear about struggles that the coaches had faced. It was wonderful to hear a pro like Eileen talk about how she only recently started opening her eyes underwater when she swims through the kelp. She used to only open them when she looked up to sight. (I thought, "Well I can't run any six minute miles, but I can open my eyes. That's something.")

Here we are getting ready for our second open water swim in our new wetsuits. Putting on a wetsuit in public is an exercise in humiliation. For a few moments it distracted us from worry about the upcoming swim. That water is cold and filled with ropy kelp monsters, barky seals, and curious otters.















It is amazing how much the coaching helped. All three coaches said they had to fight off nerves as they got in the water - that it was a matter of training yourself to get past the initial panic. Eileen explained the best way to get through the kelp was to be as horizontal as possible, skimming across the tops of the fronds. She told us to stretch out our stroke and to keep our pull pretty shallow so as not to get tangled. If we did get tangled or panic, we were to stop and relax to let the kelp slide off. Every single word of that advice helped! They mentioned a couple of tips I never would have thought of - like if you got sunscreen or bodyglide (or anything slick) on your hands, to make sure that you wiped it off before the swim because you want that resistance on the surface of your palm (and forearm) to help you grab and pull through the water. Makes complete sense, but I wouldn't have thought of it! I wish I could share everything they said and showed us. I won't even try (given how long this post already is!) I will say that we practiced all aspects of the swim - the group start, swimming one full loop of the course, actually trying to get tangled in the kelp to prove that we could let it drop off, getting out of the water and running around the rock to race back in, and finally the swim exit to bike transition. I gained so much confidence by following the coaches' instructions and working through every obstacle (mental, emotional, and physical) one at a time.
I got exactly what I needed out of the training clinic. It was worth every penny, every minute and every mile it took to get out there. The only regret I have? That I forgot to put on sunscreen as the fog burned off. Doh!

As a wrap up - best luck of luck to any and all racers out there this weekend but especially to DC Rainmaker who's rocking IMCanada!