Credit: Mitchell Orr

Training together alone

Searching for community in a solo sport

Ross Kaffenberger
Published in
6 min readMar 10, 2017

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I haven’t read Bowling Alone but I get the basic premise: we don’t socialize as much and we should fix that.

I’m not well-informed on the data and statistics around the decline of American community, but I wonder how the role of technology factors in these observations. Through social networks and online forums, we’re arguably more connected than ever before, but apps and websites cannot replace the depth and intimacy of face time.

I started triathlon as a lone wolf. I trained and raced in five events my first year in the sport completely on my own. I’d caught the bug and plodded on stubbornly: I can do this myself! Though my performance overall wasn’t bad for a rookie, I was middle of the pack and had learned very little about what it takes to be successful (I didn’t even know you’re supposed to eat during longer races). Many men in my age group were faster and stronger. As I completed more races, I began to realize I was missing something more than speed and fitness.

Athletes of all ages and genders wearing matching kits. Spectators sported team colors and shouted encouragement, singling out competitors by name — and not just family members. I couldn’t believe how many athletes seemed to know each other. Wasn’t this supposed to be an individual sport?

I hadn’t grasped the benefit of camaraderie for triathlon until I’d experienced the dark struggle of race day for myself. And it wasn’t until I joined a team, TriLife, to train for my first half-Ironman, when I began to understand the importance of teammates and coaches. As part of a team, you’re surrounded by people who can push and support you throughout the long difficult months of training leading up to a race. I started the sport thinking of it simply as “competitive exercise.” Either I didn’t think I was ready for training and racing partners or the possibility hadn’t occurred to me. I am quite sure I would not have completed my first full-distance Ironman at Coeur d’Alene in 2014 without TriLife.

Now, I find myself in a new city. When I lost Jen, I was forced to leave New York for Northern Virginia, where I’m getting help from Jen’s and my family to raise my son. While I’m incredibly lucky to have this support, I lost proximity to my New York friends and teammates. As a new dad in a new town with limited time on my hands, I needed a triathlon community reboot.

Here’s how I’m doing it while training for Ironman Wisconsin.

Joining a local club

This was kind of a no-brainer. The first thing I did when I started thinking about triathlon again late last year was look up clubs in my area. I’ve done the Nation’s Triathlon here a few times and remembered the group that made the biggest impression on me was DC Triathlon. They had the most visible and vocal presence and it seemed like every other competitor was wearing their kit.

Even though I researched other clubs, I pretty much had my mind made up already. I’ve been to a few training sessions and social events as the season has gotten underway and it has been really helpful for me to meet new people with common interests.

Choosing a coach and training plan

One thing DC Triathlon doesn’t provide (by design) is specialized coaching. We have the option to enroll in one of their general offerings, but to keep costs down, they avoid individualized attention other than occasional feedback on form and technique during workouts. That feedback is helpful, but for athletes looking to take their results to the next level, not just finish, a more personal approach is needed. Instead of hiring a coach, I found a less-expensive alternative in Endurance Nation.

EN provides an online service that sits between “general training plan” and “highly personalized coaching”. As a member, I get feedback from the coaches one-on-one from time-to-time remotely and they help me plan out the entire season by mixing and matching plans depending on the time of year and athlete ability. One big element of their style is “return on investment”; for example, their training plans steer away from huge volume and towards higher intensity during the off season, a big bonus for folks with time constraints.

Another key benefit for me is their community. I’ve been able to make connections with folks around the country who’ve been through EN before, who’ve done the races I have on my calendar, who can answer questions about training sessions, running shoes, power meters, IF/TSS/CTL, and all the other triathlon nerdery I’m still learning about.

Biking indoors with the rest of the world

Holy smokes. No one told me about smart trainers and Zwift until this past December. When I asked a triathlete friend about biking routes in the area, he told me to just get a Wahoo Kickr. After spending way too much money on the smart trainer, I signed up for a service where I can ride in a virtual world with other cyclists.

Zwift makes indoor cycling suck less.

Now I’m not looking back. Perhaps this was obvious to others, but it’s revolutionized my bike training. It’s still indoor cycling, but it’s much more bearable to me now. Leading up to the Ironman, I expect as much as 90% of my bike riding will be inside. I’ll elaborate more about it in future posts.

Listening to podcasts

It’s an odd thing, but simply listening to others tell their stories has been terrific therapy for me. I’m subscribed to a number of technology podcasts about programming and web development (my profession), but only a handful dive into the people behind the tech.

Lately, I’ve been getting into triathlon podcasts for no other reason than needing a break from the tech world (one competitive culture to another!). While I got into tri podcasts hoping to learn what everyone wants to know—how to get faster—I discovered what I’m really drawn to are the human interest stories. Perhaps there’s something about how the sport can tear us to shreds that makes us feel less vulnerable about opening up.

Check out the Crushing Iron podcast if you’re interested to hear what I mean.

Sharing results online—in the right places

For a short time, I was that guy. I stopped when I learned that no one on Facebook cares about my latest training exploits. I get it—when I crush a workout, I’m full of endorphins and riding the high of having gone faster or further before. This feeling was especially pronounced when I first started in the sport. To satisfy that need to share, I use Strava. It’s a safer place to share workout results since everyone else there is doing the same.

I use Strava less to show off and more for accountability. Sometimes I need a little extra motivation to get out of bed at 4am to fit in a workout. It can be enough to realize that if I give in to temptation this morning, I’ve fallen behind somehow. Here there’s a big difference between what I know and what I feel. I know no one on Strava cares whether or not I get my workout in, but I lie to myself and pretend everyone else will get faster without me. Sometimes, that’s all I need to get to work.

Bowling Alone is on my reading list this year, though I suspect it fails to consider the power of virtual community; while not a drop-in replacement for the real thing, it can be an important supplement. Training and racing in endurance sports is hard enough as it is. Let’s commiserate together, shall we?

I’m doing Ironman Wisconsin on September 10, 2017. Follow me on my triathlon journey here.

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Ross Kaffenberger

Doing just about everything through trial and error. JavaScript, Elixir, Ruby. Ironman. Dad jokes.