Fighting for every position

The Ryerson cross-country team travelled to Hamilton on October 13 to compete in one of the final races in the build-up to the OUA Championships at the end of the month.

Sylvie Antoun led the Ryerson women, running sub-four minute kilometres and crossing the line in 39th place. Not far behind Antoun was Melinda Marghetis, who finished in 46th place.

On the men’s side, Michael Konstantopoulos was the first Ram to finish, placing 47th in a time of 23:05. Valerian Gomes and Aaron McQuaid were right behind Konstantopoulos in 58th and 62nd, both averaging sub-3:30 kilometres.

The men’s and women’s teams both fought hard on the unforgiving seven kilometre course, but despite the teams’ gritty, tough battles, both ended up placing last in their races.

It’s easy to look at a results list, see last place finishes for both the men and women, and to declare the race a failure. It’s easy to compare Ryerson to Western, McMaster and U of T — teams which had athletes finish in the top 10 in both races. They’re all on the same list, right? They’re all in the same race, aren’t they?

Yes, on paper and on the course, Ryerson is in the same race as all of these other schools, but the other teams toeing the start line have such a head-start in the race happening off of the course.

This year marks only the third season of Ryerson cross-country. The teams that are beating the Rams have been around for many more years. They have had season after season after season to establish themselves as legitimate contenders, to build strong programs and to attract some of Canada’s top runners.

But none of this is to say that the Rams are not improving.

Konstantopoulos’ quick race in Hamilton lowered the Ryerson seven kilometre record by almost 30 seconds from the previous team best of 23:32, set by Mike Park back in 2015.

Gomes made big strides in Hamilton as well, shaving a whopping 34 seconds off of his seven kilometre personal best and moving him into third on the Rams’ leaderboard for the distance.

As for the women, Antoun, Marghetis and the rest of the team have all improved significantly over the course of the season.

In their first race of the year at Western, the Ryerson women averaged a 4:24 per kilometre pace as a team. In Hamilton, they dropped that team pace to 4:11 per kilometre.

The Rams may be behind most other teams in Ontario, but they are improving at an exciting rate, gaining speed and momentum every day. Ryerson just started a little late and needs to make up some ground.

The rest of the field is already a kilometre or two ahead, and they’re not slowing down. But cross-country is a long, tough process. The start is important, yes, but it’s a long way to the finish line, and a lot can happen before someone breaks the tape.

So, Ryerson will just keep on running.

They’ll keep on chasing those long-established teams for as long as it takes to catch up to them.

The Rams will keep fighting for that spot — any spot, first or last — on the results list — proud to fight no matter the outcome.

Karsten Madsen: Racing to the top

Six years ago, Karsten Madsen was ready to quit the sport of triathlon for good. 

Circumstances had hit him hard in 2010 and he didn’t think he could continue. In February 2010, then 18 years old, Madsen was diagnosed with atrial fibrillation, a heart condition which causes an irregular and often very fast heart rate, which can lead to symptoms such as heart palpitations, fatigue, and shortness of breath. 

Despite the diagnosis, Madsen soldiered on and continued to compete. But in his first race back after his diagnosis, he crashed and got a concussion. Months of suffering from nagging headaches followed, but again, he persevered and kept on racing. 

That August, he competed in the Tecumseh Triathlon in Windsor. Since the crash, he’d been having mixed results. 

“Some of the races would go really well, some of them would go terribly,” says Madsen. The Tecumseh Triathlon went well. Sort of. 

He had a terrible swim, coming out of the water in 11th place and over a minute back of the race leaders. As he started the ride he knew he’d have to put in some serious work to get to the front of the race, and he didn’t back down.

“I was biking my way through the field,” says Madsen. “I was going by all these pros who had beaten me for my whole life, and it was the first time I was out-riding them.” 

Then, without warning, it was over. With five kilometres to go on the bike, he punctured a tire and his race was finished. This was “the straw that broke the camel’s back,” says Madsen. He was done with triathlon. 

“I wasn’t quitting over a flat,” he says. “Everything had gone so shit that whole year, and I was just done.”

He emailed Barrie Shepley, his coach at the time, telling him his plans to leave the sport. It wasn’t a Should I quit? or a Talk me out of this email. His mind was already made up; he was just filling his coach in. 

He got a long email in response. Shepley told him about an off-road triathlon in Milton. Madsen had raced an XTERRA in Ellicottville, N.Y. the year before, and Shepley knew he’d enjoyed it. He told him to go to the race in Milton and give triathlon another chance. Madsen listened to his coach and gave it one last shot.

With nothing to lose, Madsen went all in and won the race. After the win, someone told him about an XTERRA in Whistler where several big-name pros would be racing. With his confidence renewed, Madsen decided to head out West for a new challenge. 

In his first major competition as a professional, Madsen faced the likes of Josiah Middaugh and Conrad Stoltz, two XTERRA greats who were his inspiration to try his first off-road race a year earlier.

For the first time in an elite race, his swim was better than the majority of the field. He started the bike alongside Stoltz, a four-time XTERRA World Champion, but from that point on, Madsen says that he got “absolutely shelled.” 

He crossed the line nearly 25 minutes after Middaugh, the eventual winner, as the last pro male. The adequate result didn’t discourage Madsen, however, and after competing with some of the world’s best off-road triathletes, he had newfound motivation. Just as quickly as it had disappeared, his love for triathlon was back. He was hooked once again. 

Fast forward five years to 2015 when Madsen earned a spot as a member of the Regional Training Centre in Guelph, where he began training with ITU and Olympic athletes such as Joanna Brown and Andrew Yorke. Although an off-road specialist, Madsen finds that training with ITU athletes has taken his fitness to the next level — the level required to win.

During the 2015 season, Madsen’s focused training paid off as he placed in the top 10 at three XTERRA events and won his first cross triathlon Canadian National Championship. The 2016 season was even more successful, with top finishes at XTERRAs in Milton and Victoria, two more XTERRA podium finishes at races in Argentina and Alabama, a second cross triathlon National Championship and a third place finish in the XTERRA Pan American Tour.

One of Madsen’s proudest moments as an athlete came in 2016 in Victoria, where he beat Brent McMahon. Madsen considers McMahon to be Canada’s “most well-rounded triathlete,” and for good reason. McMahon is a two-time Olympian, an Ironman 70.3 and Ironman champion and a former podium finisher at the XTERRA Worlds in Hawaii. 

“To have a result where, for the rest of my life, I’ll have my name ahead of his, just blows my mind,” says Madsen. 

After that race, which few thought he could win, Madsen gained new confidence. 

“That’s when I realized I was turning a page. I’d wondered if I was ever going to be able to win against the top-end guys.” Well, after Victoria, he proved that he could. 

After such a memorable season, it was hard to see how things could go wrong. However, anyone who has ever competed in a triathlon understands that you can only control so much on race day. In his final race of the 2016 season, in Hawaii at the XTERRA World Championships, Madsen had an unlucky blow.

His first attempt at the Hawaii off-road race started off just about as poorly as it possibly could. The swim consisted of two loops, with the athletes exiting the water after the first lap and running along the shore to start the second lap. Just before the end of the first lap, Madsen ran into some trouble.

“A wave sucked me up and then slammed me down,” he says. He landed on his neck, but the trouble didn’t stop there. “I was underwater, completely anaerobic, sucking in seawater. I got rocked, grinding against the bottom. I was like, ‘I’m going to drown.’” Just as he had this thought, he found the surface and was able to come up for air. 

With such a physical setback, it was no wonder that things weren’t right after that. He finished the swim and started the bike leg. Nutrition is the key to success in any race, and in a humid place like Hawaii, it’s even more important. Knowing this, Madsen tried to take in calories as he started the ride, but nothing would stay down. He felt dizzy and had to get off of his bike. 

“Then all of it came out,” he says. “It got to the point where I was dry-heaving.”

After ridding his body of everything, Madsen was exhausted. He’d used up half of his nutrition supplies and it wasn’t even 20 minutes into the ride. Although he knew he would question his decision later, he opted to drop out of the race. Even now, he still questions whether it was the right call. That’s the athlete inside of him; the part that shuts his body up when it hurts and tells him to keep going.

In the medical tent after the race, Madsen was hooked up to two IVs. Had he ignored his exhaustion during the race, he may have found himself in a much more serious situation down the road. Although he might continue to question himself until next season when he gets another crack at Hawaii, dropping out was the right call. 

For the time being, Madsen is back home in Guelph, preparing for another season. With the ITU Cross Triathlon World Championships being held in Penticton, B.C. this August, Madsen wants to be in top form. 

“That’s the biggest goal for next year,” says Madsen. “I want to win Penticton. I think I have the skill set to do it and after a good off-season, I think I’ll be in the conversation to be a contender.”

As for Hawaii, he isn’t expecting a win there just yet.

“It takes time to get it all sorted,” he says. Josiah Middaugh, Madsen’s inspiration to move to off-road racing, won the XTERRA Worlds for the first time in 15 tries last year. Madsen knows that, with patience and hard work, he can get there eventually. 

He’s in no rush. 

Bracebridge Race Report

Last Sunday I raced in Bracebridge with MultiSport Canada. This was an Olympic distance race (1500m swim, 40km bike, 10km run) along the shores and through the hills of the quaint Muskokan town. Prior to this race, I’d only competed in one other Olympic distance race before, which was in Gravenhurst (another MultiSport Canada race) last July. Last year I raced in Bracebridge as well, but in the International Duathlon rather than the tri. That race went horribly. I had a good first run, but once I got on the bike everything fell apart. Going into this year’s race, I was hoping for a better showing.

My swim times have been great this year, so I was confident going into Sunday’s race. However, the furthest I’d gone in a race all season was only 800m, and I knew that it would be much more difficult to keep a decent pace over almost double that distance. The swim start was a time-trial format, so the 12 pro and elite age-groupers swam off together to start the race, and a minute later the rest of us started, one at a time with 5 seconds separating each racer. I was third to get going and I felt strong from the very start. I caught the first age-grouper within the first 50 metres, and over the course of the 1500m swim I think that I caught 5 or 6 of the elite racers who left the dock over am minute before me. Approaching the 750m marker and turnaround, I was feeling very strong. I continued to feel strong for the next half of the swim, but after the turn back towards the race venue, I was faced with a new challenge — the sun. For 750m we had to swim right into the sun, and I could barely see any of the buoys. Luckily for me, there were a few swimmers just a bit ahead of me who seemed to know where they were going, so I followed them until I could make out the markers on my own. I eventually passed those racers and completed the swim. As I came out of the water I looked at my watch — 24:31. I was very pleased with this time (my pre-race goal was to complete the swim in under 25 minutes). Onto the bike, the section of the Bracebridge race which has haunted me since last season. 

I was hesitant when choosing to sign up for this race, mainly because of the hills. Last year the 40k ride felt like 100k. The hills were never-ending and as soon as you completed one, congratulating yourself on making it to the top, you saw that there was another waiting for you just 100 metres down the road. This year I felt ready for the hills, but I couldn't help but worry. In the end, I didn’t have to worry too much. The bike went very well, and I caught up to a few racers before the turnaround. It wasn’t until the final 5k or so that I started to fatigue; the hills hadn’t conquered me like last year, but they’d certainly done a number on me. I pushed through the last eighth of the race, not slowing down too much but still enough for 2 or 3 people to pass me. Going onto the run I felt very confident, but my run hasn’t been up to my usual standards so far this year. 

My first kilometre of the run was alright — 4 minutes, right on. I told myself that it was okay, if I held that pace I should be able to catch up to a good number of the racers in front of me. From there, however, things only got worse. After that 1km marker I started to get what turned out to be the worst cramps I have ever had in my life. It felt like my abdomen was being torn apart. Twice I had to stop for a moment to gather myself. These cramps subsided after a bit, but never fully left until I’d finished the race. I finished the run in 50 minutes, a time which I hope I never see again for a 10k. 

So maybe I haven’t figured out the secret to Bracebridge just yet. Last year I only had one good section from the race, and this year I had two (a great swim and a good bike), so maybe next year will be my year to crack the code and have a great race overall. Even though I didn’t have the race I was hoping for, it was still a fun time as always. MultiSport Canada really knows how to put on an event — from the venue to the volunteers and everything in between, this race was a well-oiled machine. Can’t wait until the next one in Toronto on Sunday the 21st of August. 

Woodstock Race Report: The Tortoise and the Hare

This past weekend I took part in the Woodstock sprint triathlon; season openers for both myself and MultiSport Canada. After the race, my coach, Alex VanderLinden (who came in 2nd, by the way), said that the first race of the season usually goes one of two ways: Really well or really poorly. Unfortunately for me, my race fell into the latter category. 

My week of training leading up to the race went really well — I was hitting all of the times I wanted in the pool, I felt that I was as strong as I've been all year on the bike, and my legs were feeling great on runs. The Saturday before Woodstock I had a three hour ride followed by a run off the bike. My legs held up for the first two and a half hours on the ride, but those last thirty minutes were painful. I was dreading my run, but when I got my shoes on and hit the pavement my legs felt great. I cruised through the run like it was nothing. That brick workout left me feeling very hopeful for Woodstock. However, most of my training was not reflected in the race. 

Swim — 11:59

The past week was kind of funny when it came to swimming. My times were great in the pool and I felt really strong leading up to the race, but on Tuesday I decided to use my wetsuit one last time to make sure it was fitting well. I just got this wetsuit in December, and I’d only used it once or twice before Tuesday, so after my swim that night I was very surprised to see that it was a women’s wetsuit. This was my first new wetsuit — the last was an old hand-me-down with it’s sleeves torn off from a former coach — so I had no idea what to look for when I was buying it. The guys at the store took me to the men’s rack — that’s right, men’s — and I tried on a few. I found one that fit well and that was that, I bought it. Flash forward to June 7, six months down the road, and I am only just realizing that my well-fitted men’s wetsuit is really a women’s wetsuit which just happens to fit me perfectly. I know that I shouldn’t have just trusted the salesmen when they handed me a random wetsuit, but I assumed that they knew I was a guy and that I would therefore prefer a guy’s wetsuit. Anyway, my bad. Luckily, when I went to return the suit the following morning, the big boss was very apologetic and he let me exchange it for another one that said Men’s on the inside. Embarrassing. 

The second problem with my swimming last week also came about on my Tuesday night swim. So I was wearing the wetsuit and on my very first lap I came to the wall and went to do a flip turn. However, I glided much quicker towards the wall leading up to my turn than I normally would without a wetsuit on, so halfway through my flip, both of my heels slammed against the edge of the wall. Needless to say, this hurt a lot. I took a moment to make sure I hadn’t cut myself and to see if I could still swim and then I continued with my workout. After the swim, though, I could barely walk. Both feet hurt so much. I assumed they’d be fine by morning, that I’d just bruised them, so I decided to sleep it off. The next morning they were even worse. I was sure that I would have to call off my weekend racing plans, but luckily for me, by Thursday and Friday they were feeling much better. When Saturday morning rolled around I couldn’t feel a single twinge of pain in either foot, so I was ready to race. 

My swim felt great. I was in the second wave, just a minute behind the elite and pro racers. I had a good, quick start and established a good position for myself in the group. From what I could see when I looked up to sight, I believe that I was in the second group of my wave, and I was happy with that. At around the 200m mark I started to worry that I might be pushing too hard, and that, while I still felt strong, I would soon tire and slow down. That didn’t happen, however, and I continued to feel strong throughout. I managed to catch a few stragglers from that lead group I mentioned, and I even passed a couple of swimmers from the elite wave. Coming out of the water I had no idea what kind of time I’d swam, but I felt like it was pretty quick. It ended up being 11:59, so around 1:35 per 100m. My goal before the race was to swim under 12 minutes, so 11:59 was a great time to see. That new men’s wetsuit did a good job. 

Bike — 36:32

Lately I have been feeling very strong on my training rides, so I went into Woodstock expecting a good bike split. It just wasn’t my day, however. From the very start I could tell that it was going to be a struggle on the ride, and I spent most of the 20k trying to settle into a rhythm which I just couldn’t seem to find. It was a pretty windy day, and the crosswinds were incredibly strong, but I’m not going to blame my underperforming on the conditions. I think that, had there been no wind at all, I still wouldn’t have had the best of rides. For the last 5k or so I accepted that it wasn’t my day on the bike and I just focused on not getting passed by too many people. I kept telling myself that I’d make up for the slow ride when I got out onto the run. That didn’t really work out as planned.

Run — 20:04

I don’t know when I last ran over 4 minutes per kilometre in a triathlon. A couple of years at least. The run is where I usually make my biggest moves, where I can jump from the top 30 to the top 20 or even the top 10. I also pride myself on not being passed on the run in triathlons. I’m pretty sure that, before Saturday, I have only been passed on the run once or twice in the past three years of my triathlon career. Saturday’s run broke that streak, however, when two or three runners passed me over the 5k. When I got to the halfway point turnaround I convinced myself that I could catch a group of racers that I’d just seen running the other way a couple of hundred metres before. My legs didn’t seem to get the message, though, and I didn’t generate much power for the rest of the run. Same as with the bike, in the last couple of kilometres on the run I came to the conclusion that all I could really do was accept my position in the race and work damage control for the rest of the run. I’m actually proud of my damage control, because with less than a kilometre to go, another racer caught and passed me. This time, however, I didn't let him get away and I mustered up my last bit of energy to pass him and open up a gap of twenty metres or so. I held what felt like a sprinting pace for the last 400m of the race, successfully holding off any other potential passers. I crossed the line in 20:04 for the 5k and an overall time of 1:10:33. Not the kinds of times I was looking for, but I can at least be proud of my resolve in the final kilometre.

Around the 4k marker I passed a turtle slowly making its way across the running route. I didn’t think much of it at the time — I was too busy telling myself that I couldn't stop to walk, that I was almost done — but now, after having some time to think about the race, I think that it was fitting that I saw this unenergetic, slow-moving creature on one of the worst runs of my triathlon career. I know that in the story the tortoise beats the hare, but next race I hope I run more like a rabbit… I’ve done enough turtling for one season. 

Great first race as a member of the MultiSport Canada Ambassador team

As always, MSC ran a great event. Results aside, this was a great race. A great venue, great volunteers, and extremely well organized. Oh, and the nasty weather report which called for a thunderstorm on Saturday turned out to be wrong -- Only sunny skies could be seen all day. Can't ask for much more when it comes to triathlons. My next race is at my cottage in Barry's Bay on July 3rd, and I'll be back to competing in the MSC Recharge with Milk series in Gravenhurst. Now I'm ready to get back to training hard every day, getting ready for the next race.

Club Endurance

A couple of months ago, I had an interview for a job at a grocery store. The interview started off normally enough, with the store manager and an assistant manager introducing themselves. We shook hands and then got down to business, with the manager — let’s call him Mr. Manager— asking, “How’s school?” A fair question. I explained to him that, while I’d gone to school last year, I took this year off so that I could go to Australia. I was quick to add, however, that I would be returning to school this coming September. 

He stopped me there.

“Why’d you go to Australia?” he asked. Before I could answer, he added, “And if you say something stupid like surfing or skateboarding I’ll hit you.” No laughter after this. Not even a smile. Either this guy is awful at telling jokes or he was being serious. At this point, the assistant manager pointed to my resume, which sat in front of Mr. Manager, and said, “He went for a race. It says right there.” Everyone else with whom I’ve spoken regarding my trip has seemed very impressed simply by the fact that I spent over 24 hours on a plane. Mr. Manager, however, was unimpressed with both my trip and my reason for travelling all that way.

“So why’d your parents let you drop out of school so you could do something stupid like that?” he asked. If I was taken aback by his comment about hitting me, I was even more caught off guard by this question. Shocked and confused, I tried to gather myself and answer his absurd question. 

“Firstly,” I said — and might I add, not impolitely — “I didn’t drop out of school, I just took the year off and I’ll go back this coming September.” 

“What’s the difference,” he asked, cutting me off, “between dropping out and taking a year off?” I explained to him that dropping out means that you’re cutting all ties with the school, that you aren’t going back, whereas taking a year off is just like deferring for a year. 

“I’m still a student there,” I explained. “My spot is just being saved until next year.” 

At this, he kind of shook his head and laughed at me, as if to say, Whatever. You dropped out. 

“As for why my parents let me go to Australia for the race,” I continued, “they recognized what an incredible opportunity it was for me. Not only to go to Australia, but to compete at the World Championships. I mean, what if I didn’t go and then never got another chance to race at that the Worlds?” When I asked this, he looked me in the eye with a smirk etched across his face, shrugged, and matter-of-factly said, “Then I’d say that it wasn’t meant to be.” It wasn’t meant to be? Are you kidding me? If it wasn’t meant to be, I wouldn’t have qualified in the first place. If everyone lived like this, passing up huge, once in a lifetime opportunities and saying, “Well, if I never get an opportunity like that again, I guess it just wasn’t meant to be,” then the world would be a horribly boring place to live. No one would do anything fun, people would never take risks, and the word adventure would be reserved for storybooks. Leave the adventuring to the Lords of the Rings and the Peter Pans, my friend, because your adventure just isn’t meant to be. 

I didn’t respond to his comment on fate, so he continued his attack on me. He asked, “So how’d you do?” It seems like a valid question, but I could tell by the way that he asked it that he wasn’t asking out of kindness or genuine interest. Instead, he wanted to see whether or not the race was worth my time — if hadn’t done well, it was a waste of a trip. Luckily, I did a fairly good job, but even if I hadn’t — even if I’d crawled across the line in last place — I would never have considered that race to be a waste of time. Also, I felt as though Mr. Manager was really hoping that I hadn’t done well, so he could keep on badgering me, trying to convince me that going to Australia was such an awful decision. 

At this point I was getting pretty irritated by the man sitting across the table from me and his seemingly endless supply of negativity, so, rather forcefully — not trying to hide my annoyance — I told him, “I came third in my age group. So I won a bronze medal. For Canada. At the World Championships.” Immediately, Mr. Manager was on the defensive, saying, “Alright, Ben, don’t be mean to me, that’s not a good way to start off an interview.” I considered pointing out the hypocrisy of this statement, seeing as he had done nothing but attack me since the start of the interview, but instead, I said nothing. I think he was expecting an apology, and maybe I should have give him one, since I was applying for a job at his store, but at this point I was pretty dead-set against working for this guy, so I just stared at him. 

We finally got on with the real interview questions — what I was looking for in a job, my availability, what my duties would be, etc. — but only briefly, as if they were of lesser importance than my life choices. When he got back to the topic of triathlons, I thought that maybe he realized just how rude he’d been earlier in the interview and was trying to make up for it by showing interest in the sport. He asked me how often I compete and where I go for races. When I told him that I mainly stick to competitions in Ontario, he said, “My daughter did a race in Guelph.” I told him that I’d raced in Guelph before, that they have a good event there. Then he continued by saying, “Yeah, but she did it when she was finished university. I wouldn’t let her do something stupid like that while she was still in school.” Something stupid like that. Before Mr. Manager had made this remark, I didn’t think that I could have been more thrown off or surprised in this interview, but it must have been his goal to just keep coming after me, making one snide comment after another, each more surprising than the last. Well, he succeeded. I’ll give him that much. 

The interview ended shortly afterwards, and as I was walking to my car I was kicking myself, because I should have told the guy off. I’d had so many opportunities to berate this guy, there’d been so many instances when I should have just stood up and left without saying a word (maybe while holding up a certain finger pointed in Mr. Manager’s direction), but I didn’t take them. After the interview I went for a run, and the whole time all I thought about was going back to the grocery store and all of the different ways I could tell that arrogant manager off. These plans that I came up with on the run seemed pretty great in my mind, so I had full intentions of returning and delivering one of the many speeches which I’d rehearsed over and over as I ran. Of course, this was not a good idea, and my parents quickly convinced me not to go through with it. That’s what parents are for — they talk you out of bad decisions. 

It’s been a while since the interview, and I’ve obviously had quite a bit of time to think about it. At first, I thought that Mr. Manager was probably just crazy, that before the interview he had said to himself, “I don’t care what this next applicant has done with his life — good or bad I’m going to scold him for it.” As time has passed, however, I’ve thought about how lots of different people have asked me why I would put myself through all of the pain and suffering that comes with training for and racing in triathlons. They ask, “Why would you swim, bike, and run for hours on end? Why do that to yourself?” I get so confused when people ask me why I do triathlons, because it just makes sense to me. 

It wasn’t too long ago, however, that I myself thought that endurance athletes were crazy. I only got into triathlons about five years ago, and before then I never would have considered entering the world of endurance sports. I would ride my bike if I needed to get somewhere, but never just for the sake of going on a ride. I would run if I was late for school or work, but you’d never convince me to lace up for an early morning run. And I was always up for a dip in the pool, but I wasn’t going to be swimming any laps. I would see the Tour de France on TV, read about marathon runners in magazines, and hear about countless other endurance sports, and I would pose the exact same question which is now posed to me: “Why would anyone do that to themselves?”

That question is the perfect representation of the endurance community, in my opinion. Because the majority of people in the world aren’t going to understand why we do this to ourselves; the majority of people won’t ever want to be a part of this. And why would they, really? Because when you get down to the brass facts, endurance sports are about one thing: pain. When you’re lacing up your shoes before a run you know that there’s a high probability that you’re going to experience some pain out there. Before you jump in the pool you’re preparing for the exhaustion you’ll feel on lap number 20 as you push towards the wall. In all endurance sports, you know that at some point in training — and definitely in racing — you are going to feel awful. 

In my first triathlon, I had a horrible swim — I thought I was going to drown. I followed the swim with a pretty good ride, but I pushed way too hard on the bike, completely ignoring the fact that I had to run 8k right after. I ran for maybe 2 of those 8 kilometres, walking the other 6. Throughout that whole run, I kept thinking to myself, Why did you do this? This was a terrible decision. Stick to tennis, stick to hockey, those are better sports for you. When I finally crossed the finish line I walked down to the lake and waded out into the water. I lay in the lake for a few minutes, not wanting to move and especially not wanting to talk to anyone after my embarrassing triathlon debut (and finale, as I’d convinced myself during that seemingly endless 8k run). After my dip in the water, however, I was ready to do another race. I was ready to put myself through all of that again — everything which I had hated so much not even 10 minutes earlier — and to push myself even harder so that I could do even better the next time. I knew that my next race would hurt just as much or maybe even more, but I didn’t care. For some reason I wanted to go through that again. And that’s crazy, to hurt so much but to want to do it all over. Every race since then, I’ve had those same thoughts; whether I’m doing really well or really poorly, I think to myself, Why’d you do this? and, Stop and walk for a little bit, and, You’re not doing this again, that’s for sure. But instead of listening to these thoughts, I just shut them up and by the end of the race I’m ready to do another. 

I think that that’s why endurance sports seem so crazy to some people. Humans naturally avoid things which we know will hurt us, it just makes sense. As a child, everyone was told not to touch the stove, because it’s hot and it will burn us, but most of us touched it anyway at some point. Since then, though, we’ve been careful to avoid touching the stove or anything hot, because we know that we’ll get hurt if we do. But endurance athletes have hurt before, we’ve felt the pain in training and racing, and we know that the pain is going to show up again — it’s never not going to be there — and yet we still go back and race again. We choose to hurt ourselves every day, something that’s so unnatural for most humans, but it seems natural for us. That’s why we seem so crazy; that’s why we don’t make sense to people.

I’m not saying that what Mr. Manager did was right, attacking me for my choices and for being a triathlete, but I think that I understand his confusion, at least a little bit. Being an endurance athlete, you’re a part of a very elite club. I don’t care if you’re winning races or if you’re racing against yourself and trying to beat your own best times or if you’re just trying to make it to that finish line, because we all know that it’s going to hurt, yet we all keep coming back for more. I think that it’s something pretty special, this club of ours. So again, I’m not saying that what this store manager said to me was fair or right, but maybe he’s just confused. Maybe someday he’ll decide to go for a run or get on his bike and go out for a ride, and maybe, just maybe, he’ll finally understand why I would ever choose to do “something stupid” like that. 

Curing the Late Winter Blues

If you’re like me, you’ve been getting really excited over the past few weeks with the rising temperatures, only to be quickly discouraged as the snow returns. I keep thinking that I’ll be able to start riding outside consistently, but the weather has other plans. One day it will be over 10 degrees and the next it’ll be below zero with flurries. I know that it was a short winter and that we were lucky to have spent as much time above freezing temperatures as we did, but I am done with the cold and training indoors. I’ve run too many miles on the treadmill and ridden enough hours on my trainer for one winter. I just want to get outside. 

It can be tough to keep motivated during the long, dark, winter months — especially this time of year, when we feel entitled to warmer, sunnier days. I have a go-to playlist for when I’m feeling particularly unmotivated and when I have to use the treadmill or hop on the trainer. Now, I don’t know if these songs will have the same effect on you that they do on me — music can be pretty subjective — but I recommend giving them a listen. We’ve probably still got another couple of weeks (at least) of colder weather, so you might need some extra motivation to get started on your long, mind-meltingly boring trainer workouts, so give these songs a listen — they just might help you get through those tougher sets. 

Ocean Drive — Duke Dumont

I first heard this song in late 2015, when I was in Australia. Everyone loved it down there, and I’ve been hearing it more and more up here in Canada lately. I hadn’t really thought of it as a “pump-up” song when I first heard it, but since adding it to my playlist I’ve found myself picking up the pace on the treadmill or trainer when this song comes on. Even if it doesn’t have the same effect of pumping you up that it does on me, it’s still a really good song, so you’re welcome either way.

Survival — Muse 

This was the official song of the 2012 London Summer Olympics, so you can be sure that it’s meant to get people excited and motivated. The first lyrics are Race, life’s a race/And I’m gonna win shortly followed by You won’t pull ahead/I’ll keep up the pace/And I’ll reveal my strength/To the whole human race. These lines just really help get me into my workouts because that’s exactly what I (and I think many other triathletes) dream of — being in a tight race with someone who keeps trying to pull away from you only to have you match their pace and then push past them. This song never fails to get me amped and ready to go in a workout.

Hall of Fame — The Script 

This song is an obvious one, because it’s all about how anyone can be great, just as long as you give it your all and you’re always working towards your goal. What’s great about this song is that it’s for everyone — there are a few lines that go Do it for your people/Do it for your pride/How are you ever gonna know if you never even try?/Do it for your country/Do it for your name… These lines are great because they’re motivating to anyone. They’re saying that whatever you’re doing, whether it’s on a global scale or just for you alone, can be achieved and will make you great, as long as you work hard. We all need a reminder every now and then to keep pushing during those long workouts — this is a good song for those moments.

Sail — Awolnation 

I first heard this song way back in grade 12 weight training and I loved it. It’s got a great beat that helps get you pumped up and ready to push yourself to and past your limits. I wasn't ever very good with the bench press, but I’m sure that when this song was on I could muster up a couple more reps and a few extra pounds.

And We Danced — Macklemore 

This is just a good song with a good, fast beat. I find that it helps get my mind back into the rhythm of my workouts and back to the speeds and times that I need to be hitting in my training. Also, Macklemore is a good rapper, so give the song a listen. 

Down the Road — C2C

I’m not really a big fan of electric music, but this song is really good. I first heard it in a Dr. Pepper commercial and I’ve since had it on my iPod, ready to help get me focused on my running or biking and hitting my time goals. Definitely helps pick up my cadence on the bike.

Those are just a few songs which I find can help get me motivated to train, even when I have to do that training inside. I hope that they help you guys out as well. At the very least, I hope that you find a song that you’d like to have on your iPod, even if you don’t use it for your workouts. Hopefully we won’t have to bike indoors for too much longer. I might have to download some more songs to get me through the rest of my workouts if this winter continues to refuse to leave us. I’m sure spring will take over soon enough. It has to, because there are only 2 more months until the MultiSport Canada Triathlon race season begins, in Woodstock on June 11th. So get your iPods out, hop on your bikes, and keep pushing until then. Not much longer until we get there.

Adelaide DWC

A couple of weeks ago I raced in Adelaide, Australia at the ITU Duathlon World Championships. I qualified for this race way back last September, so for the past thirteen months I’ve been training and working towards Australia for that one day of racing. For more than an entire year, this race was in my head, nagging me. If I missed a day of training I’d feel guilty and tell myself I wasn’t working hard enough. Many of my daydreams consisted of the race and the possible outcomes. I would often find myself imagining what it would be like to come down the finishing chute in first place, hearing the crowd going wild and lifting the banner above my head at the finish line. I knew I wouldn’t win the race, but I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about what it would be like if I did. 

A more realistic goal, I thought, was to earn a spot on the podium for my age group. I didn’t care what colour of medal (although if I could pick, gold would’ve been my first choice) I just wanted to cross the line as the first, second, or third placed 18-19 year old guy. Eventually, though, I began to doubt that even this was a realistic goal. I knew what kind of race I was capable of running, but I had never been to a world championships race before so I had no idea what to expect. For all I knew, every other guy in my age group could've been budding multisport stars on their way to professional careers in the sport. So, I eventually told myself not to worry about my result in the race. If I had a good race based on my standards then I promised myself I would be happy. 

My last race at this distance (10km run, 40km bike, 5km run) was in Bracebridge and it was awful. I had a decent first run but everything fell apart from there. I struggled to get through the hilly bike course and hobbled my way through the final five kilometre run. I crossed the finish line in lots of pain and feeling very disappointed in myself. In the weeks after this race I began to feel very nervous about the Worlds. I knew that I was capable of running a fast 10k and 5k and biking 40k fairly quickly, but only individually. I had yet to prove to myself that I could run a hard and fast 10k then follow it up with a powerful bike and still have enough gas in the tank to not only make it through the final 5k run but to make a decent surge for the finish. 

For the remainder of the summer and the month of September I had newfound motivation for my training — Don’t blow up like you did in Bracebridge. Whenever I didn’t feel like training and I heard a voice in my head say “Take a day off,” I would remind myself of Bracebridge and that would be enough to get me up out of bed and onto my bike or into my running shoes. 

After so many months of training, it was finally time for the big moment and I was on the starting line in downtown Adelaide, ready to get going. In the week leading up to the race my legs had felt pretty heavy on the bike and on runs I felt like I was wearing ankle weights and just dragging my feet along with me. Also, it seemed like every day I would wake up and a new part of one of my legs would hurt. The next day, whatever had been bothering me the day before would be gone but something new would be there to replace it. It wasn’t until Saturday, the day before the race, that my legs felt perfect. No pain at all. I just hoped that they’d stay that way for the race. Well, on Sunday morning as I was standing at the start with the first wave of racers, I found that my legs felt great and ready to go. 

Run 1 — 37:21

I had lined up behind a group of British guys from my age group at the start. I decided I’d try to stay with them for the run and then work on getting away from them on the bike. I abandoned this strategy immediately, as I found that most of them weren’t going out fast enough as I’d expected them to. I stuck beside one British guy, Dan Bluff, for the first 4k or so, and we ended up catching one of his compatriots around that 4k mark. At that point Bluff began to slow down so I took the opportunity to put some distance between us and I picked up my pace a little. I can remember thinking to myself, That British guy went out faster than he should’ve. I guess I called his… Bluff. I was working hard and I guess not enough oxygen was getting to my head, because I found this joke very funny while I was running. At the beginning of the second lap — the 5k mark — I caught up to an Australian guy who was my age and ran beside him for a while. He eventually pulled away, but I made sure to keep him in sight and I ended up getting into transition only about 10 seconds behind him. After the race I was very pleased to find that I’d run the 10k in 37:21 (the fastest 10k I’ve run, I think) but during the race I barely took note of my time as I was too focused on catching that Aussie on the bike. 

Bike — 1:07:22

I was hoping for a faster ride, but there were hundreds of other people racing and the bike course was only around a 10k loop, so the roads were extremely congested. I would get into a good groove, pushing hard, but then I would get caught behind a big group of racers and I’d have to slow down and wait for an opportunity to pass them. I was terrified of getting called for a drafting penalty, so I made sure to stay well back of any big groups of riders so that there was no chance anyone could think I was trying to draft. In the end, I can’t blame anyone else but myself. Everyone else on the course had to deal with the same amount of people and the same drafting rules, so it was all fair. I’ll be ready next time and I’ll be sure to prepare for the more technical side of things and not only for the physical aspect of the race. 

I caught up to the Aussie from my age group at around the halfway mark of the first lap and passed him on my way up the course’s only hill. He caught me later on in the second lap, but I quickly passed him again in the same spot as I had on the first lap. This time he didn’t catch me. The course had a lot of 180 degree turns, which I wasn’t happy about before the race, but during the ride I came to appreciate the regularly spaced turnarounds because it gave me an opportunity to have a look for my fellow 19U age grouper and see how big the gap was between us. At some point the British guy I had been running with — Bluff — caught up to me and blew by. I tried to stay with him, but he was too fast so I let him go and focused on staying ahead of the rest of my age group. I got off of the bike happy with my performance and still feeling like my legs had another 5k in them for the run. 

Run — 21:10

This run hurt. I knew it was going to, but that knowledge couldn’t help me prepare in any way. I just had to be strong mentally and constantly remind myself that I was almost finished and that soon I would cross the finish line at the World Championships. I was hoping to go sub-20 for this run, but in retrospect that might have been a little too hopeful. My legs were doing all they could for me, so I’m 100% okay with the 21:10 that they got me. I was pretty sure that the British guy who had passed me on the bike was way ahead of me, so my goal was to just stay in front of anyone else in my age group. I had no idea what place I was in, but whenever I felt like slowing down or taking a walk I told myself, “For all you know, you’re in second place in your age group. If you slow down you could lose a medal.” I’m sure glad that I told myself that, because soon enough I crossed the line and got to hear the announcer say my name and that I’d come in third place in my age group. That was worth the pain. 

Overall Time — 2:08:39. 

My goal had been to finish in under 2:10, so I was very happy with this result. The bronze medal was just a bonus. Now I’m just happy to be done for a while and to have some rest. But even now as I’m writing this I feel ready to get started with next season. I improved a lot this season and I know that I can keep getting faster, so I’m excited to get to work so I can have an even faster year in 2016. 

I know that this is such a long post already, but I’d like to say a few more things. Firstly, I need to thank my sponsors (it feels really cool to have sponsors): Durham Financial, My Planet, the Bagwaating Community Association, Impala Bicycles, Coldwell Banker, and the Township of Scugog. Without these businesses I would not have been able to get to the start line in Adelaide, so a massive thanks to them. 

Next, my coach, Alex VanderLinden. Before I went to Western and met Alex in the triathlon club, my training consisted of me swimming, biking, or running whenever I felt like it. I didn’t have a structured plan or any knowledge of how to workout in order for my body to have the maximal opportunity to grow muscles. I would just get on my bike, in the pool, or in my shoes and go as hard as I could for an hour. Now, thanks to Alex, I know that that is not the way to train. I improved a lot this season and a lot of that is due to Alex and his coaching. Thanks Alex, hopefully you’ll stick with me for another season.

Finally, I need to thank my family for all of their support and help throughout my triathlon career. For driving me to the pool or races long before the sun has even begun to think about rising, helping pay for my gear when I was a little bit short, and just standing at the finish line — even when it’s cold and rainy — and waiting for me to cross it. When I told my parents that there was a qualifying race for the World Championships in Australia they didn’t even hesitate to let me give it a try. When I qualified they said we needed to talk about the race. I thought this meant that they weren’t going to let me go all the way across the world to run in a duathlon. Instead, they immediately said they were all for it and that I had to go to Australia and take such a great opportunity. My brother and sisters are just as supportive, showing up to so many of my races. My brother comes to a lot of my races, many of which are three hours away, meaning he has to get up at some ungodly hour like 5am. I don’t know why he does that to himself, but it’s always nice to see him at the finish line. He’s a good kid. And my dad came thousands of miles to Australia to watch me race. It’s a good thing he was here, because there were a few technical difficulties along the way and he helped me fix all of them to make sure I had a great race. And even though she was half a globe away, my mom heard about these technical difficulties and would text me right away and help relax me, also helping me get prepped for the race. 

Okay, I’m done. Thank you to all of the people mentioned above once more. I wouldn’t have been able to race without all of your help. And thank you to Nike, Gatorade, and Specialized. They haven't done anything, but maybe if I mention them they’ll sponsor me.