Thursday, January 28, 2016

The Value of a Good Coach



So I was once an athlete.  I was a collegiate gymnast and later a state fighting champion at Tae Kwon Do.  I had left all that behind when I had a family and a career and chronic physical ailments that over the ensuing 30 years had left me 30 pounds heavier and pretty out of shape.  I continued to work out but with no goals; just to exercise.  I'm a strong Type A person so having no goal meant I was uninspired.  Thirty Five years ago I had dated an ironman Kona finisher when I was heavy into TKD and thought to myself "I'd like to do that someday,"  fully believing I would and could someday.  Enter life complications and the death of my younger brother, back injury, depression, chronic illness, childbirth and financial issues and you have many barriers to that goal.  Eventually I left that goal behind and forgot about it, mostly.  Then divorce and empty-nester status left me with a desire to do something more; maybe get back in shape.

I saw this sign on the wall of the subway: "You Train You Triumph" advertising a charity training program called Team to End AIDS for the AIDS Foundation of Chicago to get you to the Chicago Triathlon.  I went to the information session, fully doubting I could do it but curious.  The other desire I had after the death of my brother was to honor him in a positive way.  He had come out in 1981 and been banished from the family for five years.  He returned home and died 4 months later of AIDS, just as medications were being developed.  He was one of the first 20,000 in the US to die.  He was taking AZT, but his misdiagnosis caused too much damage and it did not help him.  He was my only brother I miss him very much.

I cried at that info session when I spoke to April, the first coach I met.  She encouraged me to try and said they would help me get to the finish line.  A week later I did sign up.  I had no idea what the journey would be like nor where I would end up 6 years later.

I started the training with physical issues plaguing me.  I had serious gluten issues I had not yet identified.  I had lingering issues with heavy metal poisoning from my house and hives would hit me regularly.  My face and my body would swell suddenly and cause me to feel sluggish and fatigued.  Race nutrition was part of the problem.  I had to experiment with it to see what I could use and what I could not.  I'm allergic to Whey protein, gluten, and soy.  All are used a lot in race food.  I ended up with shin splints and plantar fasciitis.  Running was quite painful.  I would walk or do a slow slogging jog.  I usually ended up by myself on the runs for that reason.

Now, don't get me wrong, I didn't feel sorry for myself.  I was disappointed and sad at times but I wanted to do this so I was ready to do the work.  Remember, type A?  Yeah, that's me.  I gave birth without any pain killers at all through 8 hours of labor and at home.  I'm not afraid of pain.  I just wasn't sure I could do it.  I doubted my ability to succeed and was hearing all those doubts every time I went to train.  "Who do you think you are?  You are 52,  too old for this.  You are too out of shape, give up.  See?  Everyone else is way ahead of you, just forget this."  Etc, etc.

But one coach did not give up on me.  Coach Chris.  I have always been very independent and due to my upbringing felt I did not need anyone's encouragement.  My professional career reinforced that idea.  I'm a chemical engineer and worked in predominantly male professional situations; Manufacturing supervision and management. I'm no stranger to feeling alien, alone and having to shore myself up and forge ahead.  It's a life time skill I have learned through some pretty rough situations.  (Being thrown into the freight elevator by my operators and left between floors on third shift for hours or being offered "comfort for loneliness" by a boss on a business trip or assured that I could not do a particular job by a boss are a few of many examples.)  Thus I have plenty of internal fortitude and independent strength, plus a strong sense of contrariness that helps me to "prove everyone wrong."    However, this situation was different.  No one says you can't, they are coaches, they say you can.  But I did not believe them.   If you had asked me then I would have said that one person's influence was minimal in effect, not just for me, but for everyone; that everyone must find the motivation inside, full stop.

However, one morning when I was a centimeter from giving up after watching the coach and all the good runners disappear in the distance, I see someone running toward me.  I'm managing to continue moving in a running-like motion rather than walking that morning, a rare occurrence.  As he got close I realized it was my coach for the brick; Coach Chris.

He met me and turned around and began "running" at my speed and talking to me.  He told me I was improving and he had noticed I was now running more and walking less.  He noted that my form was improving and that continuing to move forward was the goal.  He noted that I had lost a bit of weight and that I was doing better.  We talked about nutrition and some of my problems with race food and he suggested some things to try.  We talked about my situation and where I was and how much I had lost in fitness over the years.  His remark was that I was once an athlete and knew how to train was an advantage over others who might have no experience with this at all.  Basically he gave me encouragement that overcame the negative thoughts I was having and made me begin to believe in myself and the possibility that I could do this.  He helped me in a pivotal way that I might never have been able to do for myself.  He gave me new motivation that I could not find.  He saw me in a way I could not see myself.  He gave me a gift of hope.  I had no idea how much that would mean to me going forward but that day it was like a ray of sunshine in the dark place in my mind.

The fact that this accomplished, young athlete might care enough to come back for me that day was another reason to believe.  Why would he bother if I was completely hopeless?  From that day on I had a different attitude about my potential to finish that race.  At that point I was still unsure if I was doing an Olympic distance or Sprint; our program let us decide later in the training.

I eventually chose the Olympic distance with no idea if I could do it, but with encouragement from all the coaches, April, Chris, Scott, and Trevor, I learned to swim a mile.  I had been unable to swim more than a partial length in free style when I began.  I learned to bike better.  I learned to jog, better. That first race was a long one for me.  A heavy 30 year old bike and very hot conditions which forced me to walk mostly, but I swam, biked and ran that day moving forward for 4:52 and finished my first triathlon, an Olympic triathlon and raised $5000 in honor of my brother.  I cried on the swim remembering him; he was an NCAA regional backstroke champion in college.  I cried on the finish.  I fell in love with a sport.  I had thought I'd do one and that would be it.  But I came back next year and did a couple more sprints.  The following year I began to think maybe a longer race was possible as many of my friends were doing half Ironman races.  By year four I tried a half Ironman, choosing a destination race: Honu and DNF'd missing the bike cutoff by 3 mins.  However, I signed up for Steelhead that year and finished it and by the roll-down entered the World Championship 70.3 in Las Vegas.  I finished that one too.  9 hours, but I have that medal.  I'm most proud of that, because Coach Chris was so admiring of that accomplishment.

So the following year I did three more half Ironman races, PR at Racine 7:45.  I'm not fast, yet.  I have hopes to improve my speed.  I knew it was a bit of a stretch to plan for a full IM the following year but I signed up for Louisville that year.  Coach Chris signed up too.  It was a long hard year of training.  The weather stayed very cold and rained a lot that summer 2015.  Two races I entered for training were rained out and shortened or called off mid race.
Other long ride days were shortened by weather.  I ended up training long rides alone a lot.  My coach and supporters did not see some of the training I was doing and I entered the IMLOU race with encouragement but several later confessed private doubts about my ability to finish.  By that time I'd had plenty of encouragement that I had embraced however.  I knew what I was capable of.  I knew I might miss the official cut off at the end because it's only 16:30 long but I would finish no matter what.  Just before the race, Coach Chris said "no matter how long it takes you, keep going to the finish.  Even if it's after the deadline, I'll be there for you."  I knew it would be a day for me and I trusted that he would be there, because he had been there for me so many years ago when I needed that help.  

I have posted my race day report on my blog and you're welcome to read it here Louisville IM race report, but short story is that I did finish in 16:53.  I talked to my brother in the swim as I always do and we agreed that today was my day and that I could take it one minute at a time and enjoy this day like no other...the pinnacle of a journey long desired and hard fought...but also a turning point in my life at 58.   After the official race finish, I walked down the chute around the garbage truck and with a police escort as the absolute last racer on the course.  People cheering for me as they walked home and volunteers waiting for me to pass with two cups of water, who walked with me and refilled my water bottle so I could keep moving at my 14 min pace. Coach Chris and Coach Shelley who met me at mile 22 in the dark and the empty street and said "keep going!  See you at the end!" even after he had felt like hell after his race finish.  So many who kept me going forward.  The last .6 miles my friend Masumi who ran to meet me and walk me to the finish and gave me a little shove to walk down the chute by myself.  The volunteers who proclaimed me an Ironman, gave me a shirt and a cap and medal.  I cried with joy and fatigue and gratitude for so much support. Chris was there at the end with congratulations.  We had an hour of effort afterward to locate my bike and my bags with my car keys so I could go home but I was just astounded to have finished and to have my medal.  Official or not, I'm just thrilled at the accomplishment and I know it has changed me.

My father and mother saw me at mile 6 that night.  They cheered me on and went home because I didn't want them to wait that late for me.  They are near 80 and that was just too much, but to see them on the course so happy for me was very special.  Another change in my life is to have their pride and pleasure for me.  Dad said later that he didn't think I'd finish because he had seen me so spent at a couple of half iron races the prior year.  "You must've trained a lot this summer,"he said.  Yep I did. I trained a lot and I believed in myself again for the first time in a long time.


So now I'm a coach and I'm very aware of the effect my words can have on others.  Small things can be enormous to someone with doubts.  I want to help other women over 40, learn to find that inner athlete, too.  I want to give back that sense of pride and accomplishment to others.  I want to pass along the joy and motivation I was given by a short conversation with Coach Chris just a few years ago that grew into something amazing for me.  I want to give back to say thank you.    And I want to do another Ironman race and finish with an official finish.  From "doing one triathlon and retiring" to becoming an regular racer and triathlete in earnest, began with a very short and simple conversation that made all the difference.