RAIN DELAYS

By Jenny Trew, Women’s NextGen Track Endurance Coach with Cycling Canada

So in retrospect, in 2015, not a single person got the answer right to “Where do you see yourself 5 years from now?”

I think this might be one of my favourite memes of late. And that’s with the internet being on FIRE with a great selection of hilarious takes on 2020. We laugh so we don’t cry.

This quarantine is the great rain delay of our lives. For those non-track racers (or only Milton track racers) out there, a rain delay occurs when a track is rendered non-rideable by water. I have seen these delays in many forms:

1) The most popular: due to rain falling from the sky – all outdoor tracks have seen this one

2) The season dependent: A wet track due to the temperature falling below dewpoint – popularized in Canada during Dieppe Nationals in 2013

3) The Victoria special of corner three never seeing sun

4) When water falls from the roof – thank you Burnaby

Rain delays can elicit a spectrum of emotion from anxiety of when racing will restart, to relief that you have a few extra minutes to gather your thoughts. Or is it hours? Or even days? Maybe the event will actually be canceled?

The confusion that comes with this COVID-19 break (a charming phrase that my 6-year-old coined as this all started as March break, and around the beginning of May morphed into the more appropriate COVID-19 break) reminds me so much of a rain delay. I have no real control over when we resume. I need to trust that the people in charge of making those decisions will choose to prioritize competitor safety. And possibly the biggest challenge: I need to be both relaxed as to not waste energy in the present, but also prepared to turn “it” on at a moment’s notice. So how does one balance being ready with being relaxed in a situation you can’t control? How do you make the most of this unanticipated break to come out stronger when the competition reopens?

Like most track racers, the phrase “rain delay” conjures up so many memories for me – pit of the stomach anxiety included. However, the most poignant memory comes from over 20 years ago: 1999 Track Nationals in Calgary. Now, Calgary isn’t known for its rain – in fact I have as many memories of snow in July as I do of rain, but that weekend was four days of on-again/off-again rain. On the upside, we had a great big drained hockey rink to hang out in, I was sleeping in my own bed and I got to practice my warm-up more times than I can count. The whole weekend was sitting on pins and needles with events being run in fits and starts. For the junior women, we managed to complete the Pursuit and the Match Sprint over the four days – actually make that five.

As a young, focused (and somewhat emotional) athlete, this National Championships tested me and my mental fortitude (and undoubtedly that of my coach, Dan Proulx, and my parents). I had big goals for the weekend and desperately wanted to get out on the track and build on the success that I had felt the week before at Road Nationals. As we slowly moved through the sprint rounds, I struggled to stay present and enjoy the process. However, despite my emotional rollercoaster, I made it through to the finals, of which the first round was held on Sunday afternoon (please note that the competition started on Thursday morning). I went into the ride terrified that I was going to lose – this was my biggest goal for the season – what if I didn’t do it? Funny enough, my fear of failure was a self-fulfilling prophecy and I rode a tactically poor race to give my opponent the first round. Luckily for me, the rain rolled in once again and I didn’t have to go back to the rail that night to race Lisa Howard (née Sweeney), who in the following years would become my nemesis, roommate, teammate and confidante.

With some persuasion, the organizers took the Monday as the “rain day” to finish up the Match Sprint rounds. I arrived to the track that morning with a new resolve to enjoy the process under the brilliant sunshine. Instead of stressing warm-up, I goofed around on the track with a teammate and embraced the opportunity. Funny enough, I don’t remember the two rounds run on the Monday. I was calm and relaxed and just did my thing – and it was enough to earn (my only) Maple Leaf jersey.

So, as I sit here in my home office, listening to the kids playing in the hallway (why is sliding down the stairs with bedding a universal experience?), staring at the brilliant blue sky with shining sun, I need to remember the lessons of that day.

• I do not get to make the decision of when we restart, but I get to decide what I think and how I behave in the interim. Control the controllables.
• Deviating from how I imagined something to be is scary and can throw me off my game. I can come back from that.
• A break in action can be a good thing if I relax and use the time wisely.
• Life will start up again and I am going to have to trust that I still know how to do it.

So, while this is definitely not my answer to “where will you be in 5 years?”, this is an opportunity to slow down, take stock and recommit to your goals. We will get back to some sort of normal, and your goals will still be there to achieve. And maybe your new approach will turn out to be a force.