Q&A: Simon Whitfield
Simon Whitfield collected his first victory of this Olympic campaign in Japan last weekend, but couldn't find a decent cup of coffee on his trip.
Triathlete's passion is back after agony of Athens
May 04, 2008
Randy Starkman
Sports Reporter
VICTORIA–Simon Whitfield strolls on to the pool deck, cradling his pride and joy, baby daughter Pippa Katherine.
He puts the 10-month-old on a gym mat and coach Joel Filliol hands her a stopwatch, which she immediately starts gnawing, as Whitfield jumps into the water wearing a Speedo and a look that shows it's time for Daddy to get down to work.
No rest for the wickedly ambitious. This guy flew home the day before from Japan, where he kicked off the Olympic triathlon season with a win achieved in ruthlessly efficient fashion. His coach was prepared to let him rest, but he wanted no part of it.
After all, there's another Olympic gold up for grabs this summer in Beijing.
He's already been for a morning run in the dark, pushing Pippa Katherine, or P.K. as she's known, in a jogging stroller. Now, a 7:30 a.m. swim with his training partners at an aging but funky Crystal Pool. They have to get their laps in before the lane buoys are rolled in for a seniors aquafitness course led by a long-maned Fabio impersonator.
For good measure, Whitfield trains on his bike in the afternoon.
The image of Whitfield in most Canadians' memories is of the wide-eyed athlete who shot out of nowhere, his racing suit unzipped to the waist, to snatch a surprise victory at the 2000 Sydney Olympics. His easy smile, exuberance and deprecating sense of humour endeared him to Canadians. But underneath is a guy with an edge.
"I've been relentless," said Whitfield. "I think that's been my key, is I'm obsessed and relentless."
It's all-consuming work, where you not only battle your training partners for berths on teams, but on a day-in, day-out basis, while constantly being judged by the stopwatch and your coach. The work for Beijing will only stop at the finish line on Aug. 19, after a 1.5 kilometre swim, 40-kilometre cycle and 10-kilometre run.
"It's a strange place to be where you're exhausted, you're absolutely at your threshold, you don't know if you can do another rep and you have someone over top of you saying, `C'mon, I'm not seeing it out of you today. What's wrong with you?'" said Whitfield. "That's very hard to take. I make it nine times out of 10. But one time of out 10 I tend to crack."
He realizes most people see him as being happy-go-lucky.
"That deceives people, I think," he said. "They come to our training group sometimes and they think, `Oh, he's the joker.' And then they see me stressing and pushing buttons and being a bit of a jerk at training at times. And I think it takes them aback. But that's just how I prepare."
Colin Jenkins of Hamilton, his friend and training partner, can attest to Whitfield's abrasiveness.
"There's been points where him and I almost had a fistfight in the water before," he said. "We're in a very competitive environment and it can get heated up, but five minutes later we're laughing about it.
"Being laid back and happy doesn't win you races. Being a competitive a--hole that wants his way and wants to succeed does. You need to have that edge. He's a nice guy, but there's definitely another side to him."
Whitfield's obsession of the moment is Javier Gomez of Spain, triathlon's Tiger Woods, who's won nine of his last 15 races and been on the podium in the other six.
"It took me 11 years to win nine races," notes Whitfield. "He's done it in three. In saying that, he's beatable."
Whitfield's mission is to figure out how. It's a good-natured rivalry, one that Whitfield thrives on because it's pushing him to be better than ever.
At last year's world championship, Whitfield made a point of grabbing the placard with Gomez's name on it from the transition area.
"Made sure he knew it, too," said Whitfield. "Said, `I'm taking this home.'"
It hangs over the doorway in the backyard shed where Whitfield trains at home. To say that he's consumed by all things Gomez is an understatement.
"If (Pippa) was a boy, I wanted to call him Javier," Whitfield jokes Рat least we think he's joking Рover a yam omelette at his favourite restaurant, Mo:L̩.
Whitfield has recruited the chef at Mo:Lé, Cosmo Meens, to cook for the triathlon team in Beijing at their base away from the athletes village. All part of the tenacious effort to cover all the bases.
P.K. is sitting in a highchair at the table beside mom Jennie, whom Whitfield describes as his rock.
Pippa is named after the mother of his best friend, Jasper Blake, one of Canada's top ironman competitors. Pippa Blake is an inspiring woman who, despite suffering from MS for more than 20 years, has done some amazing things, including hike to the Everest base camp with the aid of her two sons.
"She's the true definition of no limitations," said Whitfield.
Her namesake, meanwhile, wears an avocado moustache while dipping her hand into a glass of water to get at a lemon slice. She's the picture of contentment.
Dad continues to yammer on about Gomez, saying there's a reason he constantly flatters him.
"Truthfully, I just keep piling the pressure on him, too," said Whitfield. "In every interview with the ITU (International Triathlon Union), I say as much as I can about how good he is."
"And it's his first Olympics, right," adds Jennie
"Yeah, yeah," said Whitfield, who really needs no encouragement. "I want him to read it every time. I want him to say to me afterwards, `You bugger, you just piled it on me.'"
Whitfield knows what it's like to feel under siege. His experience at the 2004 Athens Olympics was a soul-crushing one.
It wasn't because of the result, an 11th-place finish after a tactical mistake in the bike portion. What bothered him deeply – and still seems to tear at him – is the way he and the support team he'd worked so hard with to prepare to defend his title imploded at the Games. He said they lost their way and became totally consumed by winning.
"The joy of the whole sport got punched out of it," said Whitfield. "Basically I paid back the ticket from Sydney where I just had the greatest experience. It'd have to go up there with top-five Olympic experiences ever – race on the second day, have the golden ticket, go to all events, all the parties and have a great time. Athens from an Olympic experience perspective was a disaster."
There was plenty of recrimination afterwards. He said he feels like he "was thrown under the bus" and that it saddens him there was never a debriefing with coach Lance Watson, their support team and the people at Pacific Sport, the B.C.-funded organization.
"I feel like in the end they just said, `Simon was a dictator and he was bipolar,'" said Whitfield. "And PacSport said, `Yeah, he's washed up and done.' And I was under the bus. ... I thought we were better than that. I didn't think it would happen to a group of people that at one point cared so much about each other."
Whitfield doesn't shirk his own role.
"It wasn't the pressure of the Olympics. It was pressure I put on myself. I failed when it came to the Steve Nash test, I guess, who I think of as being the ultimate leader."
It took some time, but with Filliol's guidance, Whitfield has rekindled his passion. A big boost in that has been the establishment of a strong training group that includes Jenkins, Kyle Jones of Oakville, and Victoria natives Brent McMahon and Kirsten Sweetland, who at 19 is a phenom who can hold her own with the boys and is something of a little sister to Whitfield.
He had one of his best seasons ever last year with three victories on the BG International Triathlon Union World Cup circuit and a second-place ranking in the world behind, of course, Gomez.
"I guess I'm getting to be the athlete I always want to be," said Whitfield, who turns 33 on May 18.
Like his daughter's namesake, he's putting no limitations on himself.
"I always thought I would be a tourist in 2008 and all of sudden here I am and truly believe that I can win," he said. "Now, I'm going to shut up about what I think I can and can't do and how long I think I can do it for.
"I stopped worrying about whether or not I'm getting old. I joke about being old now, but I say it with a smirk now. Whereas maybe two years ago I was saying it with a bit of worry."
He's constantly analyzing where he can improve, dissecting the sport to its most minute details, a trait he says he gets from his father, a retired chemical engineer who he likes to needle by saying he's an expert in "the field of nerdism."
As if he has time on his hands, Whitfield updates his blog, detailing everything from life with Jennie and Pippa, his comings and goings at the Habit Coffee and Culture café, his workouts and interviews he does with other triathletes.
The interviews are often light-hearted, but don't be fooled.
Life is a never-ending reconnaissance mission for Whitfield. The morning after his win in Japan, he went for a 2 1/2-hour bike ride with a British coach, a former athlete who oversees one of his rivals, Tim Don.
"I carefully picked his brain, subtly picked his brain, to see and learn some little things, some little reminders," said Whitfield, a sly smile emerging.
Relentless, indeed.
