Giving your best when your best looks different

As you may know, Karel won his age group at Ironman Lake Placid in late July. With about eight miles left in the marathon, he felt something pop in his leg. At the time, we didn’t know exactly what had happened. Two weeks later, an MRI confirmed a partial tear in his upper hamstring.

And suddenly, the Ironman World Championship was in question.
Sometimes, the hardest part of racing isn’t the race itself. It’s accepting that the race you had planned may no longer be possible.

Karel had already registered for Kona (which happens at the award ceremony the day after the Ironman) but after he received the diagnosis of the injury (2 weeks later), he regretted the decision. He knew he wouldn’t be able to prepare the way he normally would, and there was a very real possibility that he wouldn’t be able to participate at all.

Saturday October 10th will mark 12 weeks since the injury.

For many athletes, returning to running after an injury can take a lot of time. It’s not just the time to recover from the injury but the time needed to rebuild fitness. The general return-to-running timeline is often around 8–12 weeks, depending on the injury and the individual. Karel has put an incredible amount of work into his recovery: strength training, a PRP injection before we left for France in August, and a very cautious return to running.

Over the past six weeks, he has completed 21 runs. And all of them have been run/walk.

That may sound impressive, but it is important to put it into perspective. This was not the typical Ironman build. There were no weeks of gradually increasing long runs or high intensity intervals to get as fit as possible. There was no race-specific run training. No specific hill work. There was little opportunity to build the kind of confidence that comes from repeatedly putting your body through key specific run sessions.

Let’s just say that the return to running wasn't without struggles.
And we still don't know what will happen on race day.

His hamstring seems to tolerate 60 minutes of running. But we don't know what will happen after 2.4 miles of swimming in the ocean, followed by 112 miles on a tri bike and five-plus hours of riding, and then asking that same leg to run a marathon.

And Kona is its own kind of challenge. The wind, heat, humidity and accumulated fatigue can change the way your body responds. What feels fine during a 60-minute stand alone run at home can feel very different at mile 8 in the Ironman World Championship.

Karel is competitive. It’s understandable that he's disappointed that his body won't be 100% on race day. And he still struggles with his back and hips while riding the tri bike. He would love to toe the line knowing he had done a full Ironman build and was ready to race to his potential but he's not stressing about what he can't change.

Instead, he's approaching this race with curiosity and no expectations.

He accepts that the race will have plenty of low moments. He plans to take walk breaks on the run. He may not be able to run the entire marathon. He may struggle on the bike. And he's okay with that.

Because none of those things mean he has failed.

Karel has spent a lot of time in the pool because swimming was something he could do pain-free and not impact the hamstring. He continued riding his mountain bike because it felt good, and because he loves riding off-road. He has done heat preparation. His hydration and fueling are dialed in. He's paying attention to cooling strategies.

In other words, he has continued to do what he can.

He can't change the injury. He can't go back and rewrite the last 12 weeks. He can't manufacture fitness that he wasn't able to build.

But he can show up Saturday and use 13-years of Ironman race experience and make the most of the body, fitness and preparation he does have. 

With that comes an important reminder for all athletes.

So much of endurance sports is built around having a goal, following a plan and expecting a certain outcome. We spend months preparing for a race and imagining how we want the day to unfold.

But sometimes life changes the plan.

You get injured. You get sick. Work gets stressful. Your training doesn't go as planned. Something happens outside of your control. And suddenly, the version of the race you had envisioned isn't the version you're going to experience.

And it's easy to look at that as a loss.
But not being at your best doesn't mean you can't give your best.

Doing your best doesn't always mean achieving the time, place or performance you originally wanted. Sometimes doing your best means adjusting expectations, listening to your body, changing your strategy and being willing to walk when walking is what your body needs to keep moving forward.

It means recognizing that the goal may have changed, while the experience can still have meaning and value.

Karel doesn't know how Saturday will go. Neither do I.

Maybe his hamstring holds up and he surprises himself. Maybe the marathon becomes a long day of walking and running. Maybe his back and hip becomes the biggest limiter. 

We hope he can safely get to the finish line but we simply don't know.

But he has done everything within his control to give himself the best opportunity possible under the circumstances he was given. And that's something to be proud of.

Success isn’t always about a finishing time or place.
Sometimes the greatest victory is showing up and simply giving your best.