Ironkids Nationals - psychological warfare at 11?!

 THIS was not your basic local youth triathlon race.  The tension in the air was palpable, but I swear the majority of it was adult-driven (more on that later)...except for the bizarre but interesting psychological games eminating from Limine's friend and fellow 11 year old racer, S.

Limine first met S three summers ago at a race in GA, where they finished scant seconds apart.  They bonded instantly after the race and kept in touch sporadically, and hung out for several days when both Matthew and S's father raced IMFL 2008, but had fallen out of touch since then as we hadn't made it to GA for any more youth triathlons.

When we decided to do Ironkids Alpharetta to try and qualify for nationals, I looked up the results for last year and saw that S had competed, and won their age group.  I told Limine she would probably run into her at the race, which we did... and they hung out the entire time.

Now that everyone is 3 years older, they both have cell phones, and continued texting off and on in the weeks between Alpharetta and Nationals.  The first hint of weird aura came one day when S texted Limine and asked how much she'd been training for Nationals.  L answered "nothing, really, just swim practice" and S immediately responded "you're just saying that so I won't train and you can beat me."

That pretty much stopped L and me in mid-sentence, and L wanted to know how to respond.  I suggested she say something about not being a game player and add a smiley face, and let it go at that.

We talked after that about being competitive with your friends, and what is good competitive and what is bad... and the fact that worrying about beating a specific person is the ticket to a bad race.

Fast forward to the days before Nationals.  We had a swim meet Thursday, swim practice and a football game Saturday, and no particular need or interest in getting down to Clearwater at any given time.  I had confirmed repeatedly that athlete check in would be both Saturday and Sunday, and bike check was not until Sunday, so why rush? 

The text messages from S on Saturday were a strange mixture of wanting to get together with L when we got down and seeming attempts to undermind L's confidence and get in her head.  Now, I have NEVER been that kind of athlete, so it is very foreign to me and actually makes me kind of uncomfortable.  And a bit angry to see it directed at my kids.

S spent considerable time trying to convince L that she was a) late getting down, b) missing the only opportunity for athlete check in, and c) missing out on the important things like riding and running the course, which S and her brother were doing.

She then informed L that the course was easy so she, S, would be able to hammer L on the bike.  (S races road bikes, along with her father and brother). 

So, I spent some time discussing with L why some people feel compelled to ride the course before a race, and some people do not, and that there is no right or wrong.

Later, S asked L where L had eaten dinner, and when L told her Outback, responded "OH now THAT's a great pre-race meal" so... tapping into my inner snark and knowing S had eaten at Carrabas, I suggested L write back "I don't like to weigh myself down with a lot of carbs the night before a race."
(Sorry, couldn't resist).

The next day, at check in, L mentioned that she'd be riding a new bike next season, and S informed her "Good, then I can tell you your bike sucks."

At that point, I decided it was time for L to get away from S for a while before the race, and we had a nice conversation about how some people can be nice to have as friends but might not be capable of being a good friend with someone they are in direct competition with... at all.    L, like me, is simply not like that, and would rather chew off her arm than, for example, criticize someone's bike.

In addition to the weird psych job going on with S, we encountered some absolutely over-wired, borderline psychotic parents while setting up transition.  This race, unlike the qualifiers, had assigned bike spots (THANK GOD)... and each rack had probably half the number of bikes on a normal adult rack.  I think they spaced them about handle bar width apart, knowing a lot of kids rack by hooking their brake handles over the bar since most of the bikes are too small to rack by the seat. 

As we came to L's spot, a father and mother were helpfully spreading out a blanket -- a 3' x 3' blanket -- next to the bike next to L's rack spot.  I tried to gently say "I'm sorry, but her bike has to go here, so you will probably want to move that over under his down wheel" and they were actually fairly receptive.  BUT, the hyper-quasi-hysterical mother two bikes down from L's on the other side (who also had her stuff spread across a 3' wide swath with several bikes slated to be next to hers on both sides) was in full throated bitch, which caused the following exchange:

Bitchy psycho mom:  "How on earth do they expect us to put your stuff here, there just isn't enough room!"
Me: "Actually, if you hook her bike like this and put her stuff under her down wheel, it'll be fine"
BPM (pushing other people's bikes around): "No it will NOT.  They're crazy.  There's not enough room here."
Me: "There's half the number of bikes on the rack as at an adult race!"
BPM (snarling): "Oh right, like you know everything.  This is ridiculous!"
Me (laughing audibly): Alllllriiiighty then...!"

Wow.  Mr. Race Director, can I get a valium on rack 22?!

Then there was the rugby scrum at the results posting area.   There was nary a kid who actually raced to be seen within a 5 yard radius -- just desperately pushing and shoving parents, taking pictures of the results and analyzing splits etc.  One "gentleman" walked up and, within :30 of waiting, bellowed "alright people, move along so other people can see" (which of course caused me to grow roots and analyze the relative bike speed of the average 6 year old vs the average 12 yo, as well as determining the median and mode of each age group's T2 times).

Then you had the parents loudly excusing or explaining their child's off-podium finish (in fact, the mother who I listened to ad nauseum in alpharetta was there, excusing her child's 11th place finish as if it was something to be ashamed of...) and citing everything from too much homework to too flat a course to too much heat.  It really was funny, in a depressing way.

I actually saw parents shaking while reading the results and watching the awards.  I saw kids crying, and kids getting berated by their fat, sweating parents for presumably not bringing sufficient glory unto the family name.  I heard and saw people acting as if their child had just won an Olympic Gold medal because they podiumed.   All in all, it was quite the people watching experience.  I am assuming some or even most people managed to cling at least tenuously to their perspective, but they weren't the ones making a spectacle of themselves.

After the race, as L was standing in the shade trying to breath, S's older brother came over to congratulate her and we wandered over to where she was plopped on the grass next to her mom, visibly upset (she finished 14th).  To S's credit, she pulled herself together and congratulated L and the two hung out for the next couple of hours until S's family gathered up to leave before awards.   I do believe the girls truly like each other, and that S is in general a nice young lady, but that her hyper-competitiveness creates some disconnects at times.  S mentioned feeling a lot of pressure, which I think is completely foreign to L, thank goodness... so who knows what she deals with and how that affects her when it comes to competitions.

All in all, the race itself was exciting to watch (even the little juniors) and I was very proud of L for how she handled herself with S and for how hard she raced... I admire her determination and will power at her young age.  I just hope we can do a good job of (sing along here) helping her keep things in perspective -- success requires three things (as I rambled on about in my previous post) -- talent, effort/work ethic, and luck.   Doing well in races like that at the age of 11 does not guarantee future success -- and it doesn't mean you are a failure if you DON'T keep placing or moving on to bigger stages as you get older.  It just means that, on that day, in that race, you were one of the best on the course.  It's something to be proud of, but not something to define you or your life in the future.  May Lexi truly understand that, and may those other parents fill the valium prescriptions WTC needs to start putting in the swag bags.

The reality of dreams....

On the way down to the triathlon in Clearwater this weekend, the girls and I enjoyed a number of entertaining conversations.  (Matthew was planning to come down Sunday morning so he could get some yard work done and we didn't have to pay for a dog sitter or boarding.)  The one that stopped me in my tracks though began with a simple question from Bimini:

"Mommy, do you think I can make the Olympic Trials?"

Now, this didn't come out of the blue -- we'd been talking about a swimmer who has been practicing at EHS in hopes of getting back in shape and making the trials next year, and in discussing her I mentioned some of the Bolles girls I know who have made trial cuts in HS.

Now, this may not seem like a landmine filled question to answer to some, but to me it certainly is, because I'd always dreamed, as a young swimmer (and later as a water polo player), of making the Olympics but, as a swimmer, I had no idea the reality of the progression needed to actually get there and, as a polo player, the sport was admitted to the Olympics a few short years too late for me.  I consider it landmine filled because I want to walk that fine line of emphasizing reality while at the same time encouraging dreams, and that sure isn't an easy line to walk.

"Um, no, not for the 2012 Olympics."
"MUH THER I don't mean next year, I mean SOMEDAY"
"Oh.  Well then..."

And, I told Bimini that, in my experience, three things go into setting and achieving goals in athletics:  ability, work ethic, and luck.  (Interestingly enough, two days later when Matthew and I finally had a chance to catch up, he, without knowing how I had answered, said exactly the same thing). 

I explained that, I believe she has an amazing amount of natural talent in swimming -- more than her biofather and I ever had -- and that I really did not know what the outer limits of that ability might be, BUT that those outer limits could only be reached through a LOT of hard work and dedicated training.

I told her that I, for example, worked my a** off from the age of 10 through college,  but that no amount of hard work could take me farther in my swimming than I went, because I was limited by my ability (and luck, which was mostly bad).  I'm a decent swimmer, but there was no training plan or effort increase that was ever going to land me at a big time DI school, no matter what. 

Does she have that sort of ability?  Only time and effort will tell, and all she can do is keep moving along the path by setting goals and laying the ground work now, at 13 and 14, for the effort required later to reach the more remote goals.

BUT, I also explained, the element of luck plays a big role in an athlete's ultimate "success" or attainment of certain goals - that even hard work mixed with ability does not guarantee you will meet your goal.  You could get injured, or sick, or the year you swim a certain event it could be loaded (full of unexpected entrants), or your coach could leave, or any of a zillion other limiters-by-bad-luck could occur.  We all know MANY athletes in a variety of sports who never quite achieved the potential they showed because of injury, or miss-steps, bad decisions, etc.  Sometimes, it just isn't meant to be, unfortunately.

We talked about whether it would be better to, for example, qualify for the trials in HS but then flame out after a year or two, or less, of college swimming (like so many swimmers from a certain local program seem to do), or to come along a little slower and more deliberately and enjoy a four year college swimming experience.  We agreed the latter is far preferable, in our opinions.


"But what if I made it next year, would you let me go?"
"yes, if you made it next year, you would go."
"Well then, what are the qualifying times"
"(telling her roughly the times)"
"Oh.  That's fast."
"Yes, it is."
"I'm going to do that someday, but I'm not going to go crazy practicing all the time until 11th grade."
"O...kay...lol"

The conversation wound its way into discussing how the point really needs to be the journey itself -- that no matter what level of athletics they end up participating in, or what path they follow to get there, the important thing is that they learn about themselves and become stronger, more resilient people along the way -- and that meant understanding that not achieving a goal is not a personal failure if they use the journey properly.  Without "misses" we can never truly appreciate the successes when they do happen, and sometimes all the effort, ability, and luck in the world is STILL not enough.  And that is OK!

Hopefully some of that chat will resonate with the girls as they get older and the path gets more complicated and requires more time, effort, and sacrifice.  I hope they both decide to set their sights on a challenging goal and GO for it... I hope *I* can handle the bad luck and obstacles that will surely cross their paths from time to time (they ARE my kids, therefore they are doomed in that respect, alas) and guide them in handling disappointment and rechanneling goals and energy to constructive places when it does happen. 

And for now I'll keep trying to walk that path of perspective and provide encouragement and opportunity without getting caught in the minutiae or vortex of "must do" or "must be" along the path, because ultimately it is their journey, and all I can do is try to find the sweet spot of guidance without pressure and reality with just a touch of dream.