6 Lessons from Ironman Training
Since completing the two half-ironman distance triathlons this summer (and with a kid in summer camp and a full time corporate job), I’ve fallen into some bad habits. It has been 2 months since I completed two 70.3 and I am out of practice with the athletic mindset I had built as I trained for the triathlons.
But this November I’m running the New York City Marathon to raise money for the National Brain Tumor Society. And now that the schools are back, and I’m in the 12-week window before the marathon, I’m returning to training.
I’ve been thinking a lot about what went well for me in training for the 70.3 triathlons as a way to remind myself of what to carry into the next 3 months.
Here’s what I have learned.
1. Living with expressed principles around habits is more liberating than constraining
I like to train to a plan. If I have rules around what I eat and what exercises I do, it takes away the mental effort of having to think it up each day.
I try to stick to certain rules around calories and macros, and I am now following a 12-week marathon plan, which means doing certain workouts at predetermined intensities on certain days, and scaling time and distance. With all of this already set up, I don’t need to think too hard about it and the rest of my time and energy can be spent elsewhere.
Sometimes that means simplifying habit formation into rules, like Follow the plan, or No more than two beers, no more than two days in a row, or No more than two days in a row without exercise.
I try to maintain discipline in my workouts because it keeps it simple and automatic, and for me this makes it more sustainable.
2. I prefer the training over the event
When I first started training for a half-ironman, it didn’t matter to me whether I actually did an event or not. What was important to me was whether I was fit enough to do it.
By the time I got to the 70.3s I did this summer, I had tapered my training so I was already doing less exercise. Then, after the events, I gave myself some time off to recover. (I did go for a run and some cycling with friends in Scotland, but that was too much and forced me to take more time to recover). The time away from training at a high intensity was required for completing the triathlons, but it was the low-point of the journey.
I preferred the consistency of peak training and how it made me feel. My energy levels and confidence were high, and I was comfortable in the routines and habits I had established. Having something to work towards is great, the sense of accomplishment is fantastic, but the interruptions caused by completing events interrupted the consistency I enjoyed most. I lost my momentum.
3. Momentum is everything
Habits require consistency. It’s easier to keep a ball rolling than it is to get started. Any interruption to my training habits killed my momentum. It meant more work was put into getting started again, rather than in advancing from where I already was.
Good habits compound with time. And just like how money compounds, I’ll take my advice from Warren Buffett - “The first rule of compounding: Never interrupt it unnecessarily.”
Consistency is paramount, build forward motion; don’t interrupt momentum unnecessarily.
4. Subtraction is as important as adding new habits
It’s great to introduce better habits, but even more beneficial can be the subtle art of subtraction.
To continue the money metaphor, bad habits are like debts - the worse the habit, the higher the interest rate, and the harder it will be to accomplish the goals your good habits are working towards.
It’s important to reduce habits and behaviors that don’t serve you. The first step in doing this is just to recognize what things you do automatically that are having a toll on your physical and mental well-being.
This looks different for everyone, but for me it has looked like: reducing screen time, reducing alcohol, reducing junk food, reducing time spent sitting. Better diet, better sleep, better state of mind - it makes the benefits from good habits even more rewarding.
My rule around beer was difficult to introduce not because of my relationship with alcohol, I would get into a daily habit of having just one beer with dinner but it would be every night. Drinking Topo Chico helped me break this habit; when I was served a cue (making dinner), I replaced one cold, glass bottle of fizzy liquid for another.
5. There is no destination, only a journey
I had mentioned in my blog how I was inspired by Rich Roll’s book Finding Ultra. Something that resonated with me, in comparing Roll’s experience of maintaining sobriety to how I have been experiencing the loss of a spouse, is that both require constant work.
Grief doesn’t leave, and raising our child is a reminder of all the loss involved for me, for Ruari, for Julia, and if I don’t maintain some relationship with healing and my grief, I think it would be very easy to backslide and regress to despair.
Our life is beautiful still because we persist in a way that blends radical acceptance and sorrow, and hope and gratitude. We keep mommy’s spirit alive through stories and anecdotes daily, we do the work daily.
In reading Murakami’s book What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, he compares long distance running to writing. That is, both habits require a sustained discipline of intention and effort through persistent repetition.
Writing is like running is like grieving.
For me, the reward from exercise is in living this lifestyle with consistency, and not in working towards any one particular thing in pursuit of a sense of accomplishment. It is more important to me that I live like the athlete I think I am, than it is to finish an event.
Success isn’t a summit, it’s a mountain range that I can exist in always.
6. Finishing strong was more empowering than just finishing
On the run for my Florida 70.3, I almost quit. The heat, the humidity, the energy I had spent - it was debilitating.
It was stupid of me to have done this in June in Florida. I walked a lot of the run and couldn’t even bring myself to jog the final stretch. I was wrecked, I felt weak. Finishing didn’t feel like an accomplishment, just a testament to my stubborn determination to see it through no matter the personal cost.
I finished the 70.3 in Scotland with a strong pace for the last 4 miles. I powered through fatigue and jet lag, with my best friend as my hype man calling out our pace. I felt good and strong, and this was a better reflection on my physical state and fitness.
Sure, this was a lot to do with external conditions (how I interact with my environment) rather than a testament to my health and endurance, but it was not worth making myself sick (and risking worse) just to finish the 70.3 in Florida. It felt so amazing to finish strong in Scotland.
What have I learned?
So how does this relate now? Well, I’m training for a marathon that takes place in November in New York - it will be cold, it will be on roads, and it will be exciting. My training is in the dirt trails of Hidden Waters. It’s August in Florida, and the heat and humidity are really getting to me. My pace is terrible, I feel sick after anything more than 30 minutes, and I feel weak after most sessions.
I’m drinking a whole bunch of coconut water and plenty of salt packets. Avoiding fatty and processed foods, and alcohol, so I feel less nauseous. An early night for sleep without my phone in the bedroom, and cold showers (especially after training). And I’m following Phil Mosley’s 12-week marathon training plan.
So this is me reminding myself of my principles: to embrace who I am in training, to rebuild my momentum, to subtract bad habits. It’s a journey, and it gets easier when the ball gets rolling.
