One rare day this extended monsoon when it wasn’t raining, I was on a bicycle ride with an athlete I coach — Prabhu. We usually end up having long conversations about business, teams, motivation, and many other worldly things on which we have no control ;-).
As the conversation drifted to my upcoming Ironman 70.3 and what I wanted to improve, somehow the truth came out. While a bad calf cramp a few days before the race, a bad day on the bike, and a very stressful few weeks at work seemed like valid reasons for my poor results last year, there was something more pertinent.
I blurted out — “I was afraid of success.”
Sounds ridiculous, right? But this was no isolated incident. Often, when I’ve had a long preparation for a project, an interview, or an important evaluation, I’ve messed up because of overthinking and anxiety. But still, how could anyone be afraid of success? Prabhu understood what I meant, but neither of us had a solution.
The truth is, many of us hold ourselves back — not because we’re unprepared, but because somewhere deep down, we’re unsure if we’re ready for things to actually go well.
A few weeks later, I had a minor fall on my bike and decided to take ten days off from all activities to let the wounds heal. It did put a break in my training schedule and disturbed me. Post Goa 70.3 on October 24, I had resumed training reasonably well. My bike power was improving, but a family trip disrupted the flow again. This season, there were already many breaks from swimming. So after a good start, I had lost some steam — and this fall further derailed my training plans.
Still, I knew it was best to give myself rest and patiently waited for the ten days. I was worried I might have broken a rib since it was quite sore even after a week. I insisted on getting an X-ray, even though my cyclist-cum-orthopedic-surgeon friend Dr. Naveen was sure it wasn’t the case. With a clean X-ray reassuring me, I restarted training.
I told myself that if I can listen to my body and wait for it to heal, I can also listen and occasionally convince it to go longer. Maybe even go continuously without the typical rest day every week. A few weeks after I restarted training, I decided to do just that — “no rest day.”
I ended up with a block of 61 days (September 3rd to November 2nd) without a single day off. Some days were hard, but it never felt impossible or like a health or injury risk. I found ways to recover better and stay on track. For once, I was looking at solutions rather than staring at problems.
As weeks passed, my running Spotify playlist included a few inspirational speeches. Some of them talked about developing a winning mindset, believing in ourselves, and never settling. It helped that I was already doing one of the most important things — I was consistent. Impeccably consistent.
I had also developed an open mindset and tried many new things. Whether it was swimming with an old bicycle tube tied around my ankles (rightly referred to as the torture device) or doing ridiculous running speed sessions devised by Pondi (and trying to stick to significantly faster runners like him & Tribhuvan during those sessions), I was ready to experiment and learn.
Consistency, I realized, wasn’t just about discipline. It was about removing the drama from doing. Whether it’s training, work, or simply showing up for yourself each day, progress is built on quiet, steady repetition.
In the meantime, my good friend and supplier Niraj Singh from WeSnap, who distributes Basso bikes, suggested that I upgrade my bike to a Diamante SV. I already had the Basso Diamante, which was an awesome bike in itself. Based on his very generous terms to help me upgrade, I realized that I was privileged to get this opportunity and should gracefully accept it.
I definitely wondered whether I deserved it. Or was that question another reflection of my fear of success? I decided to move forward and went on to upgrade the bike. It ended up being a speed machine I thoroughly enjoyed.
The consistency I had built slowly improved my confidence. My logic and reasoning about success evolved. I started believing — in the process, in my work, and in myself.
I truly lived by the quotations on the walls along the Gachibowli swimming pool: “Don’t count the laps, make every lap count.” In fact, I was able to make every stroke count — thanks to my diligent swimming coach, Ayush Yadav Sir.
As we approach the last week before the race, I cannot say I am not anxious. But I can say I am not afraid — not of success, not of failure, not of what will happen.
I’m focused instead on making every stroke count, on living every moment.
If I can make every moment count and give it my absolute best, irrespective of what time I stop the clock, I will have succeeded. And this result — whatever it may be — will be a friend I will embrace warmly, not meet with fear.
PS: I hope no reader interprets the take away of my experience to doing ridiculously long blocks without breaks! To be honest, I’m not sure what negative impact my streak might have had. The real message is to stay open — to read every situation, listen to your body and mind, and do your best.
Whatever the decision — to train or to rest — let it be free of dogma, guided by awareness, and most importantly, filled with fun. Break barriers, not balance. A triathlon is just one of the goals I applied this mindset to, I am sure we can take this approach to every project or challenge we take up in life.