What to do when there's a hill in the Netherlands

Over the past two weeks I have raced twice on the European continental cup circuit, once in Wuustwezel Belgium, and once in Holten, Netherlands.  I am so grateful that I had the opportunity to compete in these races, especially as I prepare to head to Missouri for Basic Officer Leadership course.  One of the races went really well, and the other one was one of my worst races ever.  Both left me hungry for improvement.

As often occurs in sport, the most poignant experiences often come from the lead up to the race rather than the race itself.  This occurred more than ever during my time in Belgium and the Netherlands, so I would like to share a few experiences I had that relate to triathlon, but also that you can hopefully apply to your own lives and passions.

My first race was in Wuustwezel Belgium.  I loved Belgium. Of course I did, they’re famous for chocolate, waffles, and cycling!  This race went well, especially after the fitness slump I experienced around graduation.  The host family I stayed with were incredibly kind to me and also gave me the opportunity to learn about their daily lives. I loved how the entire town came out for this race—to watch the athletes and really just to be with their community—talk about the World Cup, gossip about the neighbors, drink some beer.  It was beautiful to watch. I was struck by the sense of community and the enjoyment in the simplicity of being with family and friends.

People were so welcoming to me during my stay in Wuustwezel—it really reminded me of how generous people can be.  My host family completely opened their beautiful home to me and expected nothing in return.  On one memorable occasion they asked if I needed anything special for the race; I answered that I usually race with Red Bull in my water bottle, so I would like to pick up a can if possible.  Sabine was totally confused about Red Bull, but she went to the store, found it, bought a can, and constantly asked if “you only need one?” For the record, yes, I only drink one Red Bull during a sprint triathlon, and its more than enough (#redbull #givesmewings).

During the interim between the two races I spent a few days in Amsterdam.  I was still doing my pre race workouts, but I was taking time to explore the city, hang out with my boyfriend, and eat a lot of good food.  I felt guilty about relaxing so much.  I was sleeping in and eating when and what I wanted.  It was really nice, but it also felt completely foreign.  One day on a bike ride, Brad and I found a bridge across the Amstel river where you use a hand crank to drag a floating platform to cross the river. It was cool, and as bridge nerds, we had to try it. I quickly realized that this bridge took forever.  The crank was extremely inefficient.  “Wow,” I remarked, “this is time consuming.” The only other passenger on the platform, a Dutch man out for a bike ride with his little daughter replied, “yes, it’s time consuming, but you get to look at the view.”  He was right.  I was missing the point.  Yes, this was a slow way to cross the river, but it had a gorgeous view.

My second race in Holten, Netherlands went horribly.  I completely tanked this one.  I think it may be in my top 3 biggest triathlon fails.  I had a bad start in the swim, got ran over a few times, missed the bike pack, and the race spiraled downward from there.  It was a blow to the confidence.  I had to confront the fact that I have not recovered from my fitness slump at the end of the school year and I need to put some work in before my next race.  I was also not where I needed to be mentally for such a tough race.  However, when I think about the race, I remember struggling up a hill on the course (yes I know, a hill in the Netherlands?!), and it reminds me of an experience the week before in Amsterdam.  The Netherlands (literally the low lands) is a generally a very flat place.  However, on one of the bike routes around the city there is a steep ramp to a bridge over a canal.  When I was crossing the canal on this little bike bridge, an elderly woman was slowly pedaling up the ramp opposite to me, heavily weighed down by shopping bags.  She was on a beautiful old bike obviously made for commuting, like many in Amsterdam.  Also like many in Amsterdam, she was wearing clothes that most people in the states would consider appropriate for a nice dinner rather than a bike ride.  She had a lot of stuff with her and she was having a little difficulty riding up the ramp.  Eventually she got to the top and continued on her way, completely unruffled. I noticed a few things from this encounter.  First, it was awesome that bike commuting is so popular that even the elderly bike everywhere.  Second, I realized that she could do this—ride a bike uphill with a bunch of shopping bags, because she had been doing it her entire life.  She, like many of the children I had seen riding around, participated in a culture of bicycle commuting.  Being active for her was a habit, even a necessity, in her life.  Like her, I want to keep racing and training until it becomes so deeply ingrained that I do because I love it, but also because its part of my life.  Then, when hills, like the race in Holten, appear, I struggle up them and continue on my way, becoming wiser and tougher as a result.

These experiences framed my time in Belgium and the Netherlands and gave me some inspiration heading into a training block before my next race.  Next up, a week training in Girona Spain followed by a few days at home.