2013 U23 World Championships London

I had originally written a blog the day of my race that I was going to post right away, but after a bit of an internal debate I decided to sleep on it before sharing. As you can imagine, it was fairly emotionally charged and really reflected the frustration and disappointment that I felt on the day. This is my revised version…that is a bit less angry and a little more introspective, but just as honest.

Last year after my bronze medal at the U23 World Championships in Auckland, I went home content. I wasn’t satisfied or over the moon, but I knew that my result showed my fitness and my potential and that I had made great gains in my first year of U23. Looking back now, I recognize that 2012 was a great year for me. I was putting “money in the bank” and seeing my investment grow steadily. I cashed out in regular intervals, reaching the podium in almost every race that I did and meeting no major roadblocks along the way.

I know that everyone says the tough years make you stronger and keep you hungry. That is all good and well and as athletes we have to learn to deal with all of the lows just as professionally as we embrace the highs. It is easy to say that tough years make us grow and become more mature but the difficulty is found in the living out of the tough times. It hurts when it feels like no matter how hard you work, the world is working harder against you. It hurts when you do your best to be disciplined and diligent and careful and you end up injured. It hurts when you give something all of your time and energy and focus, but in the end you are left empty handed.

There seemed to be a few too many low points of my season this year and it just seemed like there was trouble waiting for me around every corner.

The hardest part of the year for me before London was the World Cup in Edmonton. It was our National Championships, and the race meant a lot to me. In the buildup to the competition I felt extremely fit and a couple months of good training had helped my confidence. I knew without question that I would perform well.

I was in the lead pack on the bike heading into the run, however, I was hit and fumbled with my bike and crashed entering T2. I jumped up as fast as I could and ran to my shoes carrying my bike. Everyone had left transition by the time I racked my bike and I struggled with my helmet and running shoes, finding that my right wrist and fingers were pretty useless. After what felt like an eternity, I finally set off on the run. The leaders were already out of sight and I thought the race was lost. It took me a good couple minutes to reset and refocus. I told myself to get back into the race and proceeded to hammer up the hill and just try and make up as much room as possible on the run. My hesitation cost me a lot of time, and although I have no way of telling what the result could have been had I not fallen, I felt like I had failed. I was ecstatic to see that my teammates had all had amazing races, and in the end Canada finished 1-2-3-4.

When I got home from Edmonton I quickly realized that getting back to training was not going to be as easy as I initially thought. All I wanted to do was throw myself into training, but the pain in my wrist and fingers prevented me from swimming or biking. I tried to grit my teeth for the first few days, but Craig knew that I was very uncomfortable. Showing for the umpteenth time that he knows me better than I know myself, Coach sent me home for a few days to rest and not only heal my wrist but also my mind.

The few days at home were just what I needed, and I returned to Guelph refreshed and prepared to face another large block of training before Worlds. We had to withdraw from the Palamos World Cup, which was and extremely hard decision, but the right one in the end as I continued to have wrist pain for about three weeks after the crash.

The next couple weeks flew by, and I got back into the rhythm of training. After a few weeks of mediocre sessions in the pool, I really started to find my swim and I was feeling strong in the water. I was also running some very high mileage weeks and just ticking along. My confidence was growing again, and I started to sense that I was ready for a good show in London.

Unfortunately, the universe decided to throw me another curve ball about five weeks before the Grand Final and I injured my foot. At first, I tried not to panic, hoping that it was just a minor speed bump and that the issue would clear up within a few days. A couple days of missed workouts turned into a couple weeks, and I was soon restless and stressed. I had interrupted run training for more than three weeks and was getting very sick of water running.

The foot injury didn’t completely clear up until a week before Worlds, when I had my first absolute pain free and tightness free run. Just in time.

Fast-forward a few days to the race, and I stepped on the start line healthy, happy, and excited. I had a great start and a decent swim, exiting the water in sixth. I made my way up to the leaders in the first kilometer of the bike, and was well positioned for the run. I had a sloppy T2 but bridged up to the leaders very quickly. The entire run I was completely in control, relaxed, poised, and pushing the pace from the front. What was a pack of about ten girls dwindled down to five, and rounding the last turn about 500m from the finish I was still in front.

When the pace accelerated I held on but my legs suddenly went leaden. I struggled to keep the pace, and watched as a group of three girls pulled away. I attempted to recover and surge back to the group, but my legs wouldn’t respond.

When I crossed the finish line I was disheartened. I had come to win and I had expected to perform much better. I felt like I had let myself, my coach, and all my family and friends who had come out to watch down. I wanted to apologize to everyone and hide.

Reflecting back, I made a few mistakes that could have cost me the race. I had bad transitions, causing me to have to expend unnecessary energy. I chose to be a driving force on the bike and was constantly pulling and in the front. I went to the lead early on the run to increase the pace. I had a very bold race, but to be honest I felt very bold and strove to be fearless. I went into the competition wanting to make everyone work hard and I paid for it in the final sprint.

I read a quote on Twitter a couple hours after my race that said, “Defeat is only bitter if you swallow it.” At the time I didn’t let myself think much of what it meant and I was still ready to sulk. A few days of thought have helped me to accept that there is truth in these words. I have played out a hundred different situations and outcomes in my mind, reflecting on where I went wrong and things I maybe should or could have done. But at the end of the day, as much as I want to, I cannot change the result of my race. However, I can control my attitude and what I learn from this experience. I will always stay hungry. I will always work to improve. I will not be defeated. 
Thanks for reading!