Ready or not
This text should have been finished much earlier, but unfortunately something came up. I'd love to write something about how a last-minute incident completely surprised me. The sad truth, however, is that the reason for my delay is nothing more than an event I've been preparing for for months.
Nevertheless, everything happened far too quickly in the end, and it caught me completely off guard again this year. Suddenly it was here, and I had actually wanted to have so many things done beforehand. I stumbled headlong into the new triathlon season. More badly than well. Before you know it, the first races are upon us, and sporting highlights that just moments ago seemed so far away are suddenly approaching at an unimaginable pace.
We're now well into that time of year when, every weekend, and sometimes even during the week, we face the dilemma of which of the many sporting events to follow. I feel stressed and try to cope with the problem by juggling multiple screens, live tickers, streams, and broadcasts simultaneously. Multi-tasking is essential. Therefore, the only truly effective way to escape this sensory overload and focus on just one prioritized event is: put yourself at the starting line.
Heads down: the racing season is in full swing | Photo: Philipp Seipp
I'd bet my life that a large proportion of readers at least occasionally opt for this solution and are therefore not just passively, but also fully immersed in the everyday madness of competition. That's why I probably wouldn't need to elaborate too much when I say that you're suddenly confronted with entirely different concerns than the Eurosport Player.
These nagging doubts are constant: Is my fitness good enough? Was the winter training, which cost me not only long, grueling hours on the indoor trainer but also a great deal of willpower, ultimately worth it? Should I perhaps have gone swimming more often? And how many silent prayers have I sent up to heaven before bed in recent weeks, hoping that I will stay healthy and not catch some annoying infection at the last minute that will instantly ruin my competition plans!
Nobody likes putting themselves under unnecessary pressure, yet we're all driven by the desire that what we've worked so hard for all winter should finally pay off. It can be frustrating to train for months without seeing any tangible results. Now it's time to deliver. Ready or not, here I come.
From track to racetrack | Photo: Drozphoto
Let's be honest: Is it any wonder that we triathletes sometimes come across as incredibly cutthroat? The motto we – whether amateur or professional – approach the whole thing in our latitudes is: train in winter, perform in summer. And it's not the first time I've asked myself if this attitude can possibly be healthy.
Just a few weeks ago, I had a conversation at dinner during training camp that revolved around exactly this topic. I was in Tuscany with a large group of triathletes, putting the finishing touches on my fitness for the season. And I was thoroughly frustrated by what I was getting: my training was anything but going according to plan. For some time now, various minor and major annoyances had been preventing me from cycling, and I either had to abandon my training after just a few minutes due to pain, or I felt so miserable from the start that I didn't even want to try. My patience, and even my usually strong optimism, had almost completely vanished: "I'm missing so many training hours in the saddle. How am I ever going to catch up? Basically, I can just throw the whole season in the trash already," I complained to the others sitting with me at the dinner table.
Pre-start nervousness | Photo: Allgäu Triathlon
A triathlete friend of mine, who grew up in Australia and lived and trained there until recently, understood my frustration all too well: "There's just not enough time for competitions here," she said. "In Australia, it's completely different. It's practically a year-round season there, because there's no time of year without races. This means you plan your season much more consciously, according to when you're fit and how quickly your body recovers. The transition between building fitness, competition, and recovery can be tailored much more individually than when you're limited to just a few summer months. Here in Europe, people are under much more pressure to achieve everything they want to in a year within a short period. That's not only stressful for the body, but also an immense mental strain – no matter how performance-oriented you are."
I couldn't help but agree. Clearly, condensing the competition season into just a few months in Europe results in an insane number of races, which would probably make athletes from other parts of the world dizzy. We Europeans are used to it, of course, but the fact is that our competition calendar isn't based on the athletes' well-being, but rather, quite simply, on the weather.
Into the cold water | Photo: Allgäu Triathlon
During the winter months, we simply can't do outdoor sports here that have road cycling and open water swimming ingrained in their DNA. Nevertheless, it's worth reminding ourselves of this from time to time to avoid overexerting ourselves. Summer in Germany and most of Europe is short, which is a real shame. But on the other hand, you can also look at it from the perspective that it creates an incredible sense of anticipation. If we can all enjoy the warmer months and the competitions with countless other passionate triathletes all the more, then we've already achieved a great deal.
The only thing we mustn't do is put too much pressure on ourselves because of the limited "showtime." It's always best to have alternatives and not cling too rigidly to Race Plan A, which sometimes simply doesn't work because, besides the sport, there's also everyday life, and therefore you need a little more recovery time here and there, or day X simply isn't the day when you're at your peak.
Showtime: Deliveries take place during the summer months | Photo: Drozphoto
My long-awaited start to this season, for example, was a classic false start. On top of the problems I'd had on the bike the previous week, I also caught an infection on the way there. I tried my best, but the race ended prematurely for me after two-thirds of the cycling leg. Annoying, but also perfectly fine. We're not machines, and no, while the season in our sport isn't endlessly long, that shouldn't be a reason to deny ourselves periods of weakness.
It helps to remember that there are good days and bad days all year round. It's mathematically impossible for our race days to always fall on good days. You can do everything right, but you can't control it. A technical problem might suddenly appear, there could be supply issues, or the weather, that old spoilsport, might throw a wrench in the works with thunderstorms, wind, or hail. But the other side of the coin is: there are also those days when everything just clicks, even when we least expect it. And so, after my forgettable start, the second and third races of the season became a complete success, albeit unrated. Not that everything went according to plan. But where do theory and practice ever perfectly align?
As soon as we approach things with a bit more ease and admit that the world won't end if everything goes wrong, stress and performance pressure quickly evaporate. Nothing more will remain. Therefore, my excuse for why this text is appearing so late is, unfortunately, nothing more than a pipe dream, but so be it: Welcome to the 2023 competition season! I'm sure you'll make the most of it. But don't forget to enjoy the sunshine when it does shine.

