Defense Mechanism

I talk during races. If I'm not grinding away above threshold, with my lungs bursting and my vision blurring, there's a good chance I'm talking. I crack jokes, I say hi to my friends, I strategize with my teammates... but generally, I don't shut up. Not even during the short, hard races like yesterday.

Someone was recently explaining their philosophy on winning races. "You have to tap into the rage". This is from a guy who's been pretty successful in sprints, so maybe I should just accept it. However, it has been my (admittedly limited) experience that every good result has followed from suppressing the rage.

Now, don't get me wrong, rage definitely has its place in cycling. There is no better therapy for me than training by intervals. When the watch says "go", I unleash the proverbial beast, at least as long as the watch allows me to. It's not too hard to imagine someone a few yards ahead of me... who that someone is, or what that someone represents, varies with time, but the gap just never shrinks.

Racing, on the other hand, demands patience. Calmness leads to fewer bad decisions and less wasted energy. The adrenaline surges are fewer when I am calm, and the results are better. Ommmm.

One habit I've developed is to comment about near-misses. When a rider nearly causes a crash (I'll give you one guess as to which military academy he attends), I make light of it. I also do this in training, which inspired Will to name me "Reactionary Don".

"Reactionary Don" doesn't roll as well off the tongue as does "Ninja Don", but it is enough to give me pause, being a gentle (if obnoxious) critique from a good friend. And it's not unfounded. Whenever something happens to set me off mid-ride, I am guaranteed to talk about it. Sometimes it's just a "hello, car", and sometimes it's a joke of some sort ("A priest, a rabbi, and a dumbass who can't corner walk into a bar..."). There is, however, always a reaction.

I think I'm trying to calm myself down. Adrenaline surges are the result of dangerous situations, and my threshold for "dangerous" is just a lot more sensitive than most people's. To minimize the unwanted freakout that follows an adrenaline surge, I talk.

Talking - read: calming myself the eff down - means I have more juice left at the finish, or even that I just enjoy the ride more. So I'm going to keep doing it.

Oh, by the way, yesterday was by far my best race this year. I felt comfortable in the pack, went off the front a few times, and finally finished in the top 20... and this course had no Don-friendly climbs! Rich, Chris, Alex, and I worked as a team for the first time, too, which is nice. Perhaps most importantly of all, not a single Rutgers Racer crashed, an unprecedented event this season.