“It will stop hurting when the pain goes away.”
–Emergency physician Dr. Charles Longdon
Gandhi’s book was called “My Experiments with Truth.” Mine will be called “My Experiments with Misery.”
As part of ongoing research on this topic, this past season I made a couple first attempts in some multi-sport races. In April it was the Mt. Rainier Duathlon Short Course (1.6 Mile Run, 14.4 Mile Road bike ride, 3.8 Mile Run). During the Fall I did the Kirkland Sprint (~15 mile bike, 5K run) and Black Diamond Olympic (~25 mile bike, 10K run) Duathlons.
Duathlons are triathlons without the swim. The format and distances vary a bit–they can be run-bike-run, or just bike-run. I like to swim, but dog paddling in a crowded chilly lake just doesn’t fit my criteria for fun, so I’m thankful there is an event category for the likes of me, so that I can torture myself in ways that do seem “fun.”
Misery: No problem suffering like this all day long.
The difficulty, and the bonus misery, that comes with multi-sport events is the dreaded transition from one sport to the other. Training for the transition (called a brick workout) is tough, but under competitive conditions, misery becomes torture. Those of you who are backcountry skiers have probably experienced a similar difficulty transitioning from climbing to skiing, though I think the magnitude of this difficulty is far less than what happens in the change from bike to run under race conditions.
At some point during one of the Fall races, as I was falling deeper into a mental black hole and struggling to make my body run, I had this realization: Familiar misery isn’t so bad, but unfamiliar misery is absolute torture. When misery is familiar, you have a sense of when it might end or how intense the sensations are going to be and you are able to maintain a positive mental attitude even under extreme stress. Misery becomes unfamiliar, and turns into torture, when you lose your bearings and it seems like there is no end in sight even though you might be crossing the finish line at that very moment.
Next, I realized this might have been something former Defense Secretary Rumsfeld or former VP Cheney might have said to justify the US’ prisoner policies. Rumsfeld is reported to have said in 2002 memo: “I stand for 8-10 hours a day.” “Why is standing limited to four hours?” Standing for extended periods may be no more than misery when you are the locus of control; it becomes torture when the locus of control is external and there is no end in sight. Which is what it can feel like in the middle of a multisport race. You know you are in a self-created black site when you start hallucinating about Rumsfeld and Cheney.
As I progressed through the stages from misery to torture, my mind cataloged a long list of miseries associated with competition:
Training Miseries
As the training phases intensify, even just thinking about the difficult workouts induces nausea.
Sleep Miseries
Despite a standard pre-event routine that includes packing the car, the night before is usually sleepless with worry about details that might have been missed. Coaches stress that we are supposed to be well-rested before a big event, but I think most of us show up sleep deprived.
After a sleepless night, the alarm goes off way too early, which induces a 30-minute spell of nausea. At the Kirkland event a bunch of us wandered around like headlamp-wearing zombies second-guessing the wisdom of waking so early just to suffer.
Warmup Miseries
Multi-sport aficionados say it’s best to show up to the start line primed with sweat, but I’ve given up on the concept of a perfectly timed-warm up. For me, a perfectly sweaty warm-up culminates with standing around shivering and waiting at the start line.
As start time approaches, the pre-race jitters kick in, and you try to act casual, but despite smiles and friendly pre-race chit chat, the reality is that you’re tense and nervous and can’t relax.
Race Miseries
The first minutes of a “good” race are often indicated by a strong physiological shock phase as the body rebels against the strain of being pushed to lactate threshold or beyond.
Torture: Crossing the finish line is no guarantee that it will stop hurting.
Depending on your state of mind at that moment, this shock can be a welcome stepping stone into your optimal competitive zone, or the event horizon to a black hole of self-doubt that can can make the whole event absolute torture. Even though the shock lasts for just a short time, the state of mind in those moments can determine whether you enter a competitive, angry state, or a long dismal exploration of the dark side.
During competitive events, I tend to view the experience as an interesting psychological and physiology experiment. The mind has an amazing capacity to push the body beyond what seems possible. The heart rate skyrockets and the pain seems unbearable. Despite this stress, the mind can force the body to carry on. Surprising to me, even in cases when it seems like the only way out of a mental black hole is crossing the finish line, something can change mid-race, and in a flash a negative mental state becomes positive.
Cruising through the bike-run transition area doesn’t qualify as misery, but slogging through mud in bike cleats feels awkward and confusing in the fog of competition. Depending on the layout of the event’s transition area, it takes up to about 2 minutes to make the circuit to your staging area, stow the bike, change shoes, and exit onto the running course.
Although the ride was miserable, the run is torture. Even though you may be actually moving at a decent pace during the first minutes of the run, it takes focused effort to waddle and stumble. To date, my strategy on the run is simple: Maintain the heart rate at lactate threshold and minimize the losses if possible.
The running leg not only includes the suffering of a sustained effort at lactate threshold, it adds cramping in the calves, thighs, hips, and/or lower back. Lower back cramping inhibits breathing which initiates a negative feedback loop that adversely affects the running stride and the mental state. And, as an added bonus, running consists of bone-jarring movements and a disconcerting creaking sensation that emanates from the hip and knee joints.
Post-race Miseries
Crossing the finish line usually does not end the suffering, it just provides an opening for the miserable after-effects of a strenuous physical effort. The most dramatic of these is retching, which is a kind of powerful cough that borders on puking. Although uncomfortable and embarrassing, retching is a positive sign that the mind pushed the body as far as possible.
********************
During the fog of a difficult ride or competition, we often wonder to ourselves why we choose to suffer this way. I don’t know the answer, but I do know that if it felt good we simply wouldn’t do it.
