Ready, Steady, Go

As I sit here, looking down the mountain at Chattanooga where I’ll be racing in two days, I can’t help but reflect how fortunate I am. I have many things to be thankful for which I will not list out. But since this is primarily a triathlon blog, I will say how lucky I am that soon I get to toe the line of a 70.3.
 
Many people don’t understand triathletes, especially those of us who do longer distance races. We are an interesting bunch to say the least. We spend hours every day pushing our bodies, trying to find our limits, all so we can spend a bunch of money for one day to see what we are made of. Racing is pain. Racing is happiness, nervousness, excitement and fear all wrapped in one. Racing is challenging yourself in so many ways you never get to experience in day-to-day life. And it is one of the most incredible experiences you can have. As they say, if you know, you know.
 

I stepped back from the sport for a while. I had to figure out issues with my body and with my mind. I was still working out but not “training”. I stopped riding for a while because every time I did my body would throw a wrench at me. I experimented with adding in other training to mix it up like rowing, kickboxing and got back into a little yoga. Triathlon training has seemingly endless lessons about your body but trying out different modalities of moving my body taught me even more. I worked on my brain and determined life changes I needed to make outside of the world of triathlons. As I got myself to a better place overall, I naturally found myself back to the world of triathlons. My home. My soul.
 
This is my first season really back into normal triathlon racing. Last year I did running races and slowly got back into riding, although almost exclusively on my road bike. I had to take several weeks off from all training at the beginning of the year (no, I was not injured) which was immediately followed by a week off from COVID. After four weeks off, I was itching to get into real training and finally for a race.
 
Training during the past four months has been steady and I’ve been patient with where my fitness level is (or is lacking I should say). I was telling my husband the other day that I am probably 5-10 seconds slower for swimming pace, 10-15W lower for riding and who the hell knows with running. He told me not to compare. But I wasn’t, not in the judgmental type of way where I could be putting myself down for not being as fit as I once was. I am totally fine and even happy with my current fitness level given the training time I’ve had leading up to now.

Here’s the thing: no one cares how fast or fit you are. Only you do. Your friends and family do not care what your race time is or what your functional threshold power is. Only you do. (And hopefully your coach if you have one.) Anyone who is important to you in your life should only care about one thing: that you are happy. You decide what makes you happy. If you decide to be unhappy and mentally destroyed because you didn’t PR in a race or get on the podium, that’s on you. You are choosing to wrap your happiness in a number on the clock or placement against other random people. There was a time I cared too much about the numbers but I finally realized it doesn’t actually matter. All that matters is that I get to do what I love, to the best of my ability. What I love, is toeing the line happy and healthy, getting to swim, ride and run with hundreds or thousands of other crazy strangers who are also looking to push their body and find a better version of themselves. That’s my true joy. And I am so thankful I get to do it again in two days.
 
While this is my first big race of the season, I did dip my toes back into the triathlon waters with two sprints earlier this spring. In the past I put too much emphasis on the big races and didn’t do as many local races. I’m looking forward to spending more time racing in my local community this year and getting back to the roots that got me into the sport.
 

In April, I raced Andy’s Race which I haven’t raced in several years. I’ve done cold races but this was a new level for me for a triathlon. It was around 34F which is fine when you are dry and properly layered. A very different story when you have to get out of the pool and ride wet. Pool swims are always interesting since people never properly provide estimated swim times that determine the order you start. As always, I was behind someone swimming slower than I wanted. I debated a few times about really hammering it to try and get around him but, in the end, I decided I didn’t care enough. I was just happy to be back into racing!
 
I might have mumbled a few swear words when I ran outside wet into the cold air. I took the time to dry off as best as I could, put on socks, a headband for my ears, a shirt and a cycling jacket, all of which I would normally never do. It made for the slowest transition time I’ve ever had in a sprint triathlon but it was worth it. Unfortunately, my big mistake of the race was setting my gloves on top of my running shoes. I didn’t see them and was about 10 seconds into the ride when I realized I forgot them. Which lead to more mumbled swear words. I always say these early season races are to break the rust off the triathlon racing chain and remember how to do the whole swim-bike-run thing. These are the races to make the mistakes. However, that was a really bad mistake for me to make given I have Raynauds. My hands (and feet even with socks and toe warmers) went numb pretty quickly. I tried to warm my hands on my neck but I honestly couldn’t even feel if my hands were touching my neck since they had no feeling in them. It made it a bit difficult to operate the shifters, brakes and water bottle. I felt like I was riding like I had little experience on the bike. But I just rolled with it and tried not to be too miserable. As always, I thanked every police officer helping on the course and gave words of encouragement to the females I saw.
 

I was happy to get off the bike primarily so I could put gloves on and I ditched the jacket. My feet weren’t fully functional which made me a little worried I would trip and bite it on the trail part of the run. Eventually I started to get feeling back and was comfortable with the weather. Cold weather running is my jam. The run was uneventful otherwise. Running has always been the weakest of the three which, as my mom would say, it is what it is. My body structure is more suited for swimming and riding. Despite being a freezing race, it was a fun challenge to get back into the racing groove. Normally at local races I get on the podium so was a little bummed to see I got 4^th in my age group. But my age group that day had a lot of speedy females so I was 7^th overall. It was my first race back and I had no expectations other than to have a fun day and I did just that.
 
Two weeks later, I did another sprint at Lake Murray and we were back to normal weather conditions. The problem with being a female is generally we start the swim in the waves after the men. As a decent swimmer, this means I have to swim through a lot of the men. It didn’t take me long to start working my way through the other color caps and it was a blast doing it. It almost didn’t seem worth the effort of wearing a wetsuit for the short swim but I mostly wanted the practice of wearing one and taking it off.
 

While I was alone for large parts of the previous race’s ride, this time it was back to the game of trying to settle into a steady effort while not drafting. Lots of passing back and forth and trying not to get frustrated. I reminded myself to get my attitude in check though and told myself it will be way worse for 70.3s with thousands of people. There were times I could have pushed hard to pass and put some distance between people, but most of the time I choose to reserve the energy.
 

This run course was a bit hillier than most sprints. It was good practice running on a hillier course off the bike. It was also a good course for seeing where other people were during the run. As for most of these races, I was predominantly surrounded by the men (story of my engineering life). The run felt good, I held a strong effort and did the best I could with my fitness. Overall, I was very happy with how I paced myself throughout the race and the effort I put forth.
 

When I got the text message with results, I saw my name at the top of the female list and was honestly confused. I thought maybe I was looking at the wrong screen or maybe the other female results hadn’t been populated yet for some reason. Turns out, I got 1^st place overall age group female. It really shocked me. My only goal out of the day was to race a bit better and harder than two weeks earlier. Which I did, but not by much when you compare bike power and run pace. However, I really treated the ride like a race this time. I only road 1W higher but over 3mph faster (yes, I realize it was a different course on, on a different day). I felt like myself on the bike again. While I am happy with my performance outcome, I know that who shows up on race day can make all the difference on where you place. I even thanked my friend Sarah for not showing up and taking 1^st place away from me. Even if she had though, I still would have been happy with my execution of the race. What I did on that day is what mattered, not how it compared to how other people performed.
 

So now I’m nearing the end of the countdown to Chattanooga 70.3. It feels like a big race but also it doesn’t. Many people have asked me if I’m ready or if I’m getting excited. Yes and yes. I know I’m not the athlete I used to be fitness wise, but I have grown in so many other ways that are more important than being fast. I've grown as an athlete even through coaching. Like any race, I don’t know what the day will bring and that is what makes it so exciting. Facing the unknown, putting your best foot forward, again and again. That feeling is truly living. That feeling is what I am thankful for. Am I ready? Let’s go.