An acquaintance of mine said this to me in transition at a race early in my second season of racing triathlon. I remember this conversation as if it were yesterday. I think I was supposed to be flattered. I wasn’t. I was uncomfortable.
I wasn’t a front of the pack athlete. I was an “age group podium on a great day depending on who showed up” athlete. By all accounts, I was a newbie. I raced to finish. I raced to be better than I was the race before. I raced for me. At least that’s how I raced until that day. That day was the first time I ever got in my head about my splits and finish time. It was the first time I didn’t enjoy every second of racing. I finished on my AG podium and improved on my splits across the board that day but what I remember most is that weird, uncomfortable conversation.
When I found triathlon in my early thirties, I fell in love, hard. The structured training gave me a place to embrace my strengths and improve on my weaknesses and racing gave me confidence in my body and the knowledge that I could do hard things.
I was invited to my first track practice shortly after that uncomfortable conversation in transition. It was a simple invite from a co-worker (who was fast becoming my friend) and I accepted. I remember showing up and thinking “What have I done?!” These folks were serious runners and I’d seen more than one of them win an overall podium. The prescribed warmup was two times around a three-quarter mile cinder track. I immediately tried to back out. They would not have it! We started out on the warmup and my heart rate climbed uncomfortably high within a minute. Everyone else was chatting, catching up and laughing. I remember being so embarrassed and a little mad at my friend for inviting me. In the first quarter mile just about everyone checked in with me. They accepted my nonverbal responses and were completely unbothered by my pace. When we made it to the track, they helped me adapt the workout for my fitness and experience level. They made me feel welcome and included while they literally ran circles around me. When I was insisting a fellow runner not take anymore time/energy away from her own workout to help me she said, “If I didn’t want to help, I wouldn’t and if I was worried about how our chatting would impact my workout I wouldn’t be at a group workout.”
I was kind of shocked by her bluntness but I appreciated her honesty.
My choice to accept that invitation as authentic and to show up with an open mind had a huge impact on my training and my experience as a triathlete. Getting to know strong, competitive woman helped me embrace my fiercest inner athlete and they taught me we are not rivals in sport; we are competitors.
A couple of seasons later at a local women’s only sprint race I was the first back on the bike. When I ran out of transition the lead bike rolled off in front of me. It took me a minute to figure out what was happening. When I realized I was leading the whole race my brain melted down. I panicked instead of being excited. I went from feeling strong and in control to panting and struggling. I was listening for foot falls instead of being focused on the finish line. I went from first overall to 8th in the last mile of the race. I finished feeling defeated instead of elated. I cried in my car!
I was so disappointed that at my next track practice I shared it openly with anyone who would listen. Someone spoke up and pointed out I ran my fastest 5k EVER that day. Then someone else asked me why I thought I should have been able to run faster than my fastest ever 5k? She had a point. I was being ridiculous.
I walked away from that conversation knowing I wanted to be able to enjoy the next experience if I was given the opportunity. And as a woman in sport and a woman who has held space in places where woman are few (I am a plumber and farmer by trade) it became more important to me that I show up authentically for other women in those moments.
I went back to that race the following year and I crushed the bike. This time when I headed out on the run with the lead bike I knew exactly what was happening. Only this time I was able to experience it. I absorbed the cheers from the run course volunteers who were seeing their first competitor. I listened to the bike volunteer encourage me. I accepted that the woman coming behind me was running much faster than me. I bid farewell to the lead with the best cheer my lungs could handle and I watched her go with a smile! She was flying!
I was confident that her strength did not make me weak. That her success was not my failure. I was grateful for the experience. I was excited to have been in the overall lead even if it was for just a few minutes. I was proud of myself for not letting good competition turn into sour rivalry and that I kept my cool when expectation and ego tried to rattle me. I did manage to hold on to an overall podium spot that day, but the real success was in the experience.
On my triathlon journey an uncomfortable conversation led me to an uncomfortable workout and that workout and those amazing athletes pushed me to be the most comfortable I’ve ever been in my own skin. I will always be grateful for that. Over the last 18 years there have been a lot of podiums, countless personal milestones, trips to Nationals, a trip to Worlds and most importantly, a ton of amazing experiences I would have never had without the sport and community of triathlon.
Soooo, If you get that invite, accept it. If you get the opportunity to introduce someone to something you love, do it. It could be the start of something great.