Coaching Smarter Triathletes: Brian Maiorano

Sprintman--Triathlon Champion Of My Block

Don't Worry, It's Parody In Good Fun

It doesn't take much time around triathletes to know that sometimes we take our sport and our participation in it a little too seriously.  I've done it myself, but usually manage to step back and laugh at myself.  Apparently it's a habit of mine to poke fun at things that seem a little pretentious, as I've been nominated as Chairman Of Irreverence (or Chairman Of Irrelevance, take your pick) of our tri club. 

I'll first note that some of my best friends do ironman races, and are quite good at them.  They devote incredible time and energy to training, and at races find themselves on the podium earning trips to Kona.  It's important in their lives, and I'm proud of them for setting high goals and reaching them.

But triathlon doesn't define their existence.  They're well-rounded individuals who balance racing with family and friends and work and manage to not take themselves too seriously.  

Anyway, one day we were laughing about the debates that go on in forums at places like slowtwitch over topics like: Who can legitimately get an M-Dot tattoo? (Only those who have done an "official" ironman? What if you walked the whole marathon?  What if it took you 16:30 hours?  What if it was "only" an Ironman 70.3? What if you don't have 6-pack abs and an aero helmet?).  It all seemed rather silly to me.

I remarked that since I was never going to be in the world championship for anything and really don't foresee myself ever doing an ironman, could I get an S-Dot tattoo? 

Team S-Dot

Really, we're not mocking people who do ironman races.  Only those who take themselves too seriously over it and think that it's the end-all and be-all in triathlon.  And we're certainly not mocking those who don't race any further than sprint distance.  For many people, doing their first sprint race requires overcoming more hurdles (physical and mental) than it does for a veteran athlete to train for an ironman.  And training for that distance allows them to still race while juggling family, school, work, etc.

In the year leading up to my first triathlon I lost 25 pounds, ran the first mile of my life, and swam the first lap of my life.  And was darned proud when I finished that race.  And, looking back, that year was much more challenging than anything I do now, even though I train longer hours and am way faster than I was.  The grand irony, of course, is that I'm not even the Champion Of My Block, as I have two neighbors who are retired pro racers...

We all have different reasons for racing--and as long as there's not too much ego wrapped up in them, most are reasons to be proud of.  

If you want to be part of Team S-Dot, we can hook you up with apparel.  Right now there's some logo wear on Cafe Press, but to be honest it's kind of pricey.  I'm putting together an order for shirts and bike bottles that will be be much cheaper.  Shoot me an email if you're interested.

You can be a Sprintman Fan on Facebook. And, yes, stick-on tattoos now exist.  We wear them with pride.

Analyzing Wildflower Triathlon Results

Last week I analyzed my bike results from the Wildflower Olympic-distance triathlon.  This post analyzes the entire race results, with an eye toward improving my weak points for future races.

This chart sums up the results.

Since I'm nowhere close to competing for a podium position in a race of this size, I'm most concerned with my percentage of the winners' speeds.  This is a very useful tool to track performance through a season, and from year to year.  See this post for more details. The 81% is faster than the 79% I did at last year's very competitive Boulder Peak Olympic-distance, but worse than the 85% at this year's Super Seal race in San Diego (which is not nearly as competitive, however).  In short, I'm happy with my time.

Of course, I'm happiest with my bike split--the top 9% of the field and 89% of the fastest person's bike split.  If you pick only one sport in which to do well, making that choice the bike will most help your overall time (almost half of the overall time is comprised of the bike leg).

On the other end of the spectrum, we can see just how terrible my swim time was. Two-thirds of the field beat me, and my speed was only 59% of that of the winners.  Note that even such a dreadful performance only cost me 13 minutes--while a top bike split still cost me over 8 minutes.  It's a good illustration of why swimming is the least important leg for non-elite age groupers.

My run was in the top third of the field, with my time over 14 minutes behind the winners. My speed, 73% of the winners, was a good bit slower than than 82% I raced in the spring's Super Seal race.

Analyzing Race Performance

So you've just finished a race.  Once you're finished panting, guzzling water, and receiving congratulatory hugs (okay, sometimes before), you probably check your finishing time.  And once the results are posted, you start comparing your time to others in your age group and gender group.  And probably in the overall standings.  If you've raced the course before, you probably compare that time to this most recent time.  And you might have even had a goal time that your were trying to reach. 

Making all of these comparisons might even influence your mood and attitude (for better or worse) about how your race went.  But how objective are these comparison?  Generally, not very.  For a number of reasons they don't give you good information about how well you raced that day compared to other races in your season, or even compared to the same race in previous years. 

If you're competing for an overall podium spot, or for an age-group podium spot in a big races, that's likely a goal in it's self, and no other comparison is needed.  But for the vast majority of the rest of us, here are some things to consider.

Race Courses Can Vary From Year To Year

• Swim length. Marking an open-water swim course is not an exact measurement.  Even a 5% error over 1500 meters will make a 75 meter difference.  A 5% error is the equivalent of being off by half an inch per foot--which may be a lot when using a ruler, but not much when trying to measure long distances over water.  So swim distance alone could easily account for a minutes difference from year to year.
• Bike and run length.  Even in long-standing races the bike and run courses have minor variations in a given year.  Construction, a new bike lane, etc., can cause small detours that might change the length by a minute or two.

The Siren Song of Longer Distances

Remember your first triathlon?  It was probably a sprint distance, and on finishing you probably felt a mix of elation, exhaustion, satisfaction, and relief.  And before the congratulations were even finished, someone had asked you, "So when are you going to do an Ironman?"

Huh?

It happened to me, and it planted a seed in my brain.  Even though I had never run further than four miles at once.  And even though I had no idea why I wanted to do an Ironman, it seemed like a great idea.

It's undeniable that many triathletes see iron-distance races (2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, 26.2 mile run) as the pinnacle of the triathlon world.  They see it as a badge of honour that separates ironman finishers from the rest of world.  And if you hang out with other triathletes, you'll experience that peer pressure to "join the club."

Why the Focus on Longer Distances?
The "glory" of iron-distance races likely comes from the early days of the Hawaii Ironman in the late 1970s through 1980s.  It was a race that seemed to defy the possible and that left the world wondering who these crazed and tough-as-nails men and women were. 

Now that tens of thousands of ordinary mortals have completed an iron-distance race, and now that sprint-distance races are the largest growing segment of the sport, the "tough guy" image of triathlon is starting to fade.  But still, if you ask  non-triathletes about the sport, they're likely to think of Kona.

But All the Best Athletes Race Long Distances, Don't They?
It's funny, this notion that long distance is inherently correlated to better fitness and greater toughness.  No one thinks that an Olympic track & field sprinter is less an athlete than a world class marathoner.  And did you even know there's a 10k Olympic event in swimming?  If so, do you think less of Michael Phelps because he excels at 100 meters?  Of course, our most famous cyclist, Lance Armstrong, reinforces the connection between long-distance and greatness.  But he most certainly wouldn't do very well racing a mile in the velodrome.