Grant Giles
Testimonial · Essay · 3 min read

Tim Reed: Letting Go

You largely gave me the foundation of a lot of what I understand with the psychological side of the sport.

Tim Reed won Ironman Australia and the IRONMAN 70.3 World Championship in the same year, 2016. In 2020 he came on episode 3 of The Roaring Heads podcast to talk about the mental side of racing. These are his words from that conversation, lightly trimmed for reading.

The foundation

It’s been a while between chats, but given that you largely gave me the foundation of a lot of what I understand with the psychological side of the sport, it’s a pleasure to be chatting.

The reason I feel like I can talk about mental resilience is because I’m aware of as much about my strengths as my weaknesses. Anyone who thinks they’ve got it completely dialled, as mentally tough as they can be, is probably kidding themselves. It’s been a huge growth experience for me, trying to get control of the mental side of racing. I’d love to say I have control of it, but I don’t. It’s a constant procedure.

Stepping back, without judging

I’ve got to a point where I can stand back and not judge myself. Not ‘that’s because I’m soft’, just ‘maybe you’ve given everything in the last few races and it’s time to mentally refresh.’ I’ve been very harsh on myself over the years and it doesn’t end up that constructive. I suffered crazy anxiety leading into races. There are so many things I’ve had to step back from and actually address, rather than just being angry at myself.

2016: letting go

In 2015 I was training far better than a year later, but mentally I was killing myself before I even got to the race. I was way overthinking the consequence of the race. I’d be standing on the start line thinking about sponsorship, thinking about the sacrifices my family had made.

In 2016 I was so burnt out with racing that I thought, you know what, I’m just going to go back to having fun, letting go and going with the race. The one that really stands out is Ironman Australia. I went in off the back of a pretty sobering experience, losing one of my best friends. I didn’t go there to race for any result. I just got the absolute most out of myself because I wasn’t trying to win the race.

When you’re in that zone it’s almost a lack of thinking. It’s a quiet place, just calm focus. I get on the start line and there’s no nervousness. It’s an excitement to see what happens.

Out of any of my races it was easily my best mental performance. That can give you an extra five, seven, ten percent.

Suffering on purpose

I always do mindfulness meditation leading up to my biggest races. In an Ironman prep I’ll also include maybe two sessions that go beyond having a real physical benefit. I want to send myself into a pretty dark space mentally and find a way through it. It’s about: what do I do when I’m really suffering? How am I going to calm the mind? How am I going to breathe? Then on race day I can tell myself, you’ve suffered like this before, just focus on the breath. My brain isn’t that stressed by it, because I’ve actually been there.

Swallowing my pride

Things progressed so quickly for me over shorter distances that I struggled to have the patience for Ironman racing. I like to think I’m right, and the biggest thing I’ve learned is that most of the time I’m not. Swallowing my pride is what eventually allowed me to have some good Ironman races. Ironman is the one distance that really eliminates the ego. You can’t get around the aerobic miles, the work and the recovery. What’s worked for the champions is still what works today.

No one really cares

I’ve won races and walked away not super proud of it. And I’ve come fourth or fifth and put it down as my best race of the year, because I had nothing and didn’t give up. I’ve got a couple of races in my mind that no one would ever remember, but I know they were probably my best because of what I overcame that day.

Ultimately, Gilesy, it sounds a bit harsh, but no one really cares. Deep down, what matters most is the integrity with which you’ve raced. You know when you’ve gone soft and when you haven’t.

I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.

Tim Reed, IRONMAN 70.3 World Champion, 2016.

Listen to the full conversation: Tim Reed, World-Class Triathlete.

Grant Giles coaches a small number of athletes one-to-one, writes this newsletter from Brunswick Heads, and hosts The Roaring Heads. If this piece resonated, a letter in the post every couple of weeks is the best way to keep in touch.