And as with most runners, I paid lip service to the idea of cross-training. I just wanted to be out there, running, burning, relaxing. Cross-training was something to be done on non-running days, which were rare. Until I was forced into it by injuries. And at that point, I transited into triathlons.
It is interesting to observe how runners become triathletes. For many of us, we start off training for a triathlon just as how we would train for a run. Run. So we hit the pool and start splashing laps. We get a bike and start riding. Since we run about 85% of the distance that we are racing, we apply the same principle to triathlon. Swim 25 laps in the pool and let adrenalin handle the remaining 5. I committed that fallacy.
Running is second nature to most people. As children, we had to be reined in from excessive running and playing. Running is about lifting both feet off the ground and putting one in front of the other, repeatedly. As a result, runners usually do not worry too much about form, posture, or technique. Swimmers and cyclists are different. These sports require techniques honed to perfection. Every execution of a pull or pedal stroke is about efficiency. The obsession with drills and proper form is something new to runners, but something that we can incorporate into running.
So when I started swimming (because I could not run), I floundered and splashed my way through. I could do an ok imitation of breast stroke, but could not get through 50m of front crawl without, well, crawling through the water. And then hung by the wall for dear breath. And repeat. But how clueless I was. I was simply programming bad habits and bad form into muscle memory. Thankfully (or not) I was a slow learner and my muscles had retarded memory. So I signed up for proper swimming lessons. It was a culture shock.
Then I got a bicycle. Proud owner of my first wheels. I hit the roads, and committed another cardinal sin. Runners have strong legs and instinctively pedal with low cadence and high gear. Low gear? That’s wimpy. High cadence? Just hammer it! And so it went, until well-meaning friends told me to try the reverse. I was not convinced initially, but the clincher was that it would help my run. So I practiced spinning on light gear, and promptly got dropped.
Along the way I was introduced to the term ‘brick’. So now I have to learn about construction too? I googled the term and was instantly rewarded with pages lauding the importance of bricks, videos showing what to do, and discussion forums gushing over newfound bricks. I eschewed it, and Cramp swiftly taught me a lesson. I was fortunate that I never had cramps in my runs previously. So I foolishly did not know what it felt like to have parts of my legs seize up into solid blocks, as they did in one of my early duathlons. Maybe that was it was called 'brick training'.
Despite our late start and clumsy coordination, runners do have an edge in triathlons. It is relatively easier for a runner to increase his training mileage in swimming and cycling than vice versa. By comparison, non-runners risk many injuries if they try to ramp up their runs too quickly.
We enter the last segment of a race in home ground. The comfort and reassurance of slipping into our trusted shoes. The familiar bounce that is hopefully coupled with a spring in our legs. The joy of a run in itself. That brief ecstasy when we pass people who zoomed past us with wheezing wheels. These keep us going. Runners do not give up on our runs, certainly not in a race where we survived the alien odds.
I am a runner, learning to swim & bike. :)
Lessons:
- Check, check and re-check your form and technique
- Swim more than the distance of your race
- Ride with high cadence and light gear
- Embrace bicks
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