Wednesday, March 28, 2018

Four Things I've Learned as a Coached Triathlon Coach

I've been a triathlete for nearly a decade and have been a triathlon coach for nearly four years, but this is my first stint at being a coached triathlon coach. Layer onto that the fact that I am a highly opinionated, strong type A, serious control freak, logical-coach-by-day, classic-headcase-athlete-by-night, and you can imagine that my adjustment window from self-coaching to being coached has been ... interesting.

It's taken me about four months to settle in - yup, FOUR MONTHS - but I've learned some great things along the way.

The Transition-to-Coaching Phase is Real

I've always told my new athletes that I prefer to have at least 4-8 weeks of training "prep time" - if not more - before we start their for-real training for an A race. It takes time for me to get to know them, and for them to get to know me, I tell them. It can take a bit for me to dial in the right balance of training for their individual needs, I tell them. And it can take some time for them to settle into their training calendar, I tell them.

I know that my end of the equation as a coach is real - I absolutely pay attention to how my athletes respond to those first few weeks of training, and adjust course as needed based on that. What I understood less well was how thrown off kilter it can feel as an athlete to dive into a very unfamiliar pattern of training.

So I spent a month or so having some really weird, totally circular conversations with myself:
"This training is not at all what I'm used to."
"No shit, Sherlock, that's exactly why you hired a coach."
"Yeah, okay, but it's really different."
"No shit, Sherlock, that's exactly why you hired a coach."
"But I'm kinda thrown for a loop because it's really different."
"Seriously, are you going to make me say it again? THAT'S WHY YOU HIRED A COACH."

And then I settled in. And I gained a greater appreciation for each of my athlete's first month/s of our journey.

Communication is Key

It turns out, what was really causing me to get my panties all in a bunch over those first training blocks was the fact that I missed my bike. Coach had me doing a lot of work on the run - no argument there, my run sucks - but it meant less time on my bike. (Actually, it meant less time on my trainer, which maybe was what I missed more than my bike, because #imbatshitcrazy and I love my trainer.) And after eight weeks or so, I was about to lose my shit.

Then an amazing thing happened: I talked to Coach about getting on my bike (trainer) a little more frequently. Literally, one more time each week. I know - having a conversation about the batshit crazy in my head seems so fucking logical, but, I'll remind you: logical-coach-by-day, classic-headcase-athlete-by-night. And, just like that, more bike workouts appeared in TrainingPeaks and all was right with the world.

So, yes, #trustyourcoach and #followtheplan, but it's also ok to say how you feel.

If You Don't Hate Your Coach Every So Often, They're Not Doing Their Job

One of the main reasons that I switched from self-coaching to being coached was that I knew a coach would challenge me to work harder than I would challenge myself. And I appreciated the fact that Coach was putting more runs on my calendar than I'd ever dared, even though the very thought of lacing up my shoes made me want to cry. I *really* appreciated it when all those runs started paying off.

My training was really humming along, and I was happy. I was running well, and I got to spend more time on my bike (trainer), and I was feeling like everything was finally clicking. So what does Coach do? Turn up the heat. I mean, I get it, we'd hit the final few weeks before my A race and so, as a coach, that's what you do. But I will also acknowledge that I started cursing her name - routinely.

As in: "Fucking Coach has got to be fucking kidding if she thinks I can do that workout." "Fucking Coach is high on crack if she thinks I can run that fast off the bike." "Fucking Coach is just plain fucking mean."

But, since: #trustyourcoach and #followtheplan, I showed up and did all the fucking things she asked me to do (except one which I tried but my legs wouldn't cooperate, and I swear it really was a fucking mean workout). And while I did curse Coach's name all the fucking time, I know she can take it.

So yes, if you're reading this and are coached by me and have never cursed my name, please let me know so that I can do better by you. :)

Your Coach Knows What You're Capable Of, Even If You Don't

A friend asked me a month ago what my expectations were for my A race this spring. My response? I haven't a clue. Which is kinda unusual for me - I'm usually pretty dialed into how my training is going, and how that will (could, should) translate on race day. But I'm also used to MY training style and MY workouts, which I've been doing for years, and so I can compare this year to last year and know where I stand.

But this year I'm doing Coach's style and Coach's workouts, so I can't really compare this year to last year. They're just different. And it doesn't even feel apples to oranges different - more like apples to elevators different. So I don't know how to look at what I'm doing in the pool or on the bike or on the run and say "yup, this is what that means for race day."

Here's what I do know: Coach has been putting some stuff on my training calendar that I think is hilariously, insanely ambitious. And lately, I've actually been hitting those numbers. I never think I'm capable of pulling off the workout, but Coach does, and more often than not Coach is right.

So, come race day (10 days!!!), I'm going to go with her expectations for what I can do on the course. I think she's batshit crazy with some of her numbers, but cuz #trustyourcoach and #followtheplan, I'm just going to show up and trust that it will happen.