My good friend Denise sent this little article to me in my inbox today. I think she read my last post and could accurately figure out the weather of my mood. Because she is a tri-athlete and has competed in
who-knows-how many races over the years and an Iron Man, she understands the ins and outs of racing. She understands the addiction (because it is...in fact, an addiction...) she understands the ins and outs of conditioning and she understands how important it is to have the right friends and crew for the support mentally (if not even MORE important) and physically. She was the one who told me after my race last year that I would get a little post-race depression. It didn't last long, but I did call her and boo-hoo briefly. She was having the same depression as well as she had just done Iron Man Coeur D' Alene. I am not much a crier and that is a bit embarrassing to share, but hey...it's reality and it happens. So there. So anyways...with out further ado... here is the article...Enjoy.
Hugs and props to all my loving family, and friends (basically crew members) who journey with me to Tevis.
Being an
endurance rider requires a whole lot of extra help. Here are some valuable tips
for your support crew.
It’s early in the
year. Winter is winding down and a new race season is nearly upon us. We’re
refreshed from the off-season, our zeal renewed for our beloved sport. In fact,
we’re so raring to go mentally and physically, we’re surely headed for our best
race seasons ever. Power will rise and PR’s will fall—we shall be unstoppable! „
In order to tick every
box of preparedness, though, we also need to ensure that our support systems
are securely in place. It takes a village to raise a successful endurance
rider, and that village needs training, too. It’s not as simple as strapping on
a foam finger and cheering like a freak on race day, fueled by a few tailgate
beers. You’ll have to clue them in before they can correctly interpret your
cries for help, both subtle and straightforward, before, during and after
races.
So whether you send
this article to your loved ones or leave the document open on your computer
screen, make sure your team reads and absorbs the tips herein.
Throughout
the season there are a number of ways in which a
supporter can enhance an endurance rider’s efforts.
Early on, try to
muster the question, “Are you Top 10ing again this year?” with a straight face.
However small the sea of your endurance community, make your endurance rider
feel like a really big fish.
Avoid comments like,
“Is it supposed to fit that tight?” no matter how unaccustomed you are to
viewing a woman encased in too loose Lycra, or, “Wow, you really eat a lot!”
despite the fact that your endurance rider wife just chowed down two entrées.
Keep a vigilant eye
out for over-training-induced meltdowns. Is your endurance rider unusually
cranky or emotional, reduced to tears when comparing past? Does he snap at the
slightest thing, such as running out of power bars or forgetting to charge his
Garmin? First address his current crisis, then ever so gently
suggest a day off.
Do not smirk, no
matter what combination of mud encrusted and poop smelling gear your endurance
rider insists on wearing around the house, around town or even to bed. Sexy
lingerie is hardly a steppingstone to endurance stardom.
Race week
and race day require an even greater level of finesse
from an endurance race supporter.
Be prepared to run a
plethora of last-minute errands. “Wheat mash, alfalfa, rolled oats, beet pulp
horse mash? Sure. I’ll pick them up right after I track down those saddle bags,
biothane reins, extra saddle pad & fleece cooler. Anything else while I’m
out?”
Twenty-four to 48
hours before any race, your athlete will morph into a zombie. Prop his feet up,
hand him the TV remote and a sippy cup of wine and leave him be. But don’t
stray too far—he may not want to speak to you, but he needs to know you’re
near.
Rehearse saying this
with a smile: “Of course I’ll get up at 4 a.m., schlepp you and all your stuff
to the start. Nowhere I’d rather be. Especially not snuggled warmly in bed.”
During the actual
race, be where you say you’ll be. No matter how often your endurance rider
insists that she’s totally “in the zone” on course, barely able to pick
particular faces or voices out of the crowd, I guarantee she’s looking for you.
Be loud and proud (heck, get a foam finger if you have to)—she’ll appreciate
the boost.
Your first
step post-race is to attend to your
riders immediate needs. He may as well be an infant, unable to communicate
clearly for at least an hour. He might spit up. Your job is to interpret his
grunts and groans and longing looks. Is his hand outstretched? Fill it with a
bottle of water (better yet, a bottle of beer). Is she rubbing her butt or
wincing when she walks? Get her to the massage tent or strap on an ice bag,
stat!
When your athlete’s
communication skills return, pull up a chair and prepare to listen. For a long
time. Feign fascination for every detail of the rodeo like start, the vet
checks, the pit stops. You had diarrhea? Tell me more!
Steel yourself for
sorting through your riders gear—as any devoted helper would do. This includes
smelly, sweaty, mud-caked clothing and sticky everything. Don rubber
gloves if you have to, but dive right in and conquer that collection of
nastiness.
Prepare also for the
post-race roller coaster of emotions your rider will no doubt ride. Regardless
of whether he won top ten or ended up walking every mile, the event of a
lifetime is over. Done. Dusted. And the aftermath of months of singular focus
and preparation is often a post-partum-like plummet into depression. That is,
until she registers for her next race and once again drafts you as her No. 1
fan.
As the rider, don’t
forget to reward your crew for their hard work. Wine, spa treatments or sparkly
things will do. After all, you may have walked, trotted and cantered an ungodly
number of miles, but they suffered through every stride as well, and are likely
just as weary—minus the lifetime bragging rights.
