I awoke from the nothingness with a gasp, crying “I can’t breathe!” I tried to take in breaths but it seemed like my body wasn’t allowing me to do so. My legs and arms were locked up and were starting to go numb. I tried to remember something, anything, about where I was and why I was there, but I couldn’t. I lay there struggling to breathe sure that I soon would take my last breath.
Ironman 70.3 Chattanooga. So many memories at this race. I consider it a hometown race because it’s only two hours from my home in Nashville. I know every twist and turn of the course. It was the first 70.3 triathlon I ever did and I’ll always remember how excited I was to cross that finish line; completing something that I hadn’t entirely thought was possible. Now, years later and jaded to the distance, I was just hoping for a decent race. Last year I had an injury issue and then had a mechanical on the bike portion of the race which lead to a less than stellar finish. I’ve never had a result I’m satisfied with at this event and this year I hoped to change that. I had a good training block leading into the race and I went into weekend excited for the race.
So much can change in a year! I qualified for the 2023 70.3 World Championships in October of 2022 by coming in 3rd in my age group at Ironman 70.3 North Carolina. It was a goal of mine because I’ve never been to Finland, which is where the 2023 World Championships were and I’m all about the trication (triathlon vacation). Plus I was curious to see how I would do in a “real” world championship. I had raced in St. George 70.3 World Championships in 2021 but that was during Covid so it wasn’t truly the world.
But, life happens and priorities shift, so this would not end up being a year to race the 70.3 Championships. It’s been a rough year personally, I decided to race my first Ironman back in June and qualified for Kona so I needed to save energy for that which is coming up in October, and I developed an injury- hip tendinitis and Achilles issue- and have not run in months. This race would become an “enjoy the day” tri. And enjoy the day I did!
First of all, I love Finland! The race was held in a great city, Lahti, about an hour northeast of Helsinki in southern Finland. It’s situated on Lake Vesijarvi, the lake we swam in, and is flanked by a set of ski jumps which are used in the annual Lahti Ski Games. As soon as we landed in Finland (our flight from Dallas was full of people doing the race and had 64 bikes on the plane!) we drove up to Lahti to do the race check in (and of course spend lots of $$ on Ironman WC clothes) and spent some time walking around the lake. It all really got me excited for 3 days later when I would race with the women.
I brought with me my favorite Sherpa (and husband!) Jeff who knows how to do all the things pre and post triathlon as well as be my best fan during an event. He put my bike together, helped me gather and distribute my bags in their proper places, finds me food, and serves as a calm presence when I get nervous before a race. Yes, even this one! The day before a major triathlon is always the worst.
Hiking with my Sherpa later that week
Race day dawned cool and foggy. So foggy that they delayed the start by a half hour to let the fog lift off of the lake so we could see the buoys. The pro women went first and then we all started by the age group we were in. My age group, 45-49, is the last to go which meant that I didn’t start until an 1:40 after the first wave started. I always try to start towards the front in races that we can self seed ourselves in, so the wait just felt like forever. The only cool thing about going last is that I got to watch all of the pro women start the bike portion of the race.
The front group of pro women
Finally…finally, it was my turn to start. We all lined up and the announcer said that we were one of the largest age groups there. We all danced to the music until he put on Abba’s Dancing Queen and said here’s a song from your generation. We all shouted-hey, we’re not that old! We were either babies or not born when that one came out. So insulting to us old ladies!
We worked our way up to jump off of the dock into the lake and it was finally my time to go. I jumped in and began to swim. The water was cold but not horribly so, especially wearing a wetsuit. I was towards the back of the group starting so I began to wondering if I would be the last person out of the water as women began swimming past me. I’m not a good swimmer (understatement!) and really worried that would happen. Finally I told myself to stop thinking about it and just swim. So I swam my slow pace and enjoyed the water. It was a point to point swim and the water was clean and felt great. People would bunch up around the buoys as always happens but spread out again in the straight-always. Soon it was over and I was running into T1.
I got on my bike with no issues and was off working my way out of town. The course was one big 56 mile loop through the Finnish countryside dotted by a few small towns and ended up being one of my favorite bike courses that I’ve done. It had a lot of rolling hills and was on a completely closed course. There were no cars. It’s the first time ever I’ve done an Ironman bike course that was completely closed to cars so thank you Ironman or Finland or whomever allowed for that; I just felt safe.
I passed so many of the girls who passed me on the swim and just enjoyed the course. These were country roads (with imaginary lines?!!) but passing was easy and everyone whom I was around were not drafting and being very courteous to each other. It’s why I love races with just women. There were so many times that I would have stopped and taken a picture if it hadn’t been a race! I would get to the top of a hill and look out over a golden field of hay with a cute farm in the distance surrounded by pine trees. It was beautiful!
Around 30 miles in we made a sharp turn and rode into a headwind. We pretty much had this the rest of the way back and I felt like it was hillier too so the second half was slower than the first, but still I really had fun on the course. We eventually made it back into town and just before the end there was a super steep hill. I rode by a girl and said- this is just mean to put at the end. That hill was followed by a steep downhill with signs to go slow because we were about to dismount off our bikes. We dismounted and ran our bikes inside a convention center (a first for me) where we grabbed our bags with our run things, got ready, and then ran out of the building to start the run.
Ski jumps behind me on the track
I had not run at all for 7 weeks due to injury until the week before the race and with those runs I was doing a short run followed by a lot of walking just to see how things held up; so the plan for this race was to continue a run/walk and make the run really slow and hopefully I would be fairly pain free at the end of the race. Not how I would have wanted things to go, but what I needed to do.
The run portion was two loops and started with us going up and over the street on a very steep temporary pedestrian bridge. We ended up running it 3 times. We then did a lap on a track right next to the convention center and in front of the ski jumps then ran out to spend the next mile climbing a hill. I had not really paid any attention to the run course since I knew I wouldn’t really be running it, but maybe I should have. I hadn’t realized how long the hill was! At the top the course flattened out for awhile and then ran downhill through a little neighborhood with lots of people out cheering for us even this late in the race and then ended up next to the lake for a few miles.
I ended up running slowly until I came to an aid station and then walked through every aid station. It was actually kind of hard to run that slow and depressing as everyone I passed on the bike now passed me on the run, but I just kept reminding myself that the goal was to be pain free after the race and the next day. It definitely made for the easiest 70.3 I’ve ever done, but also my slowest.
Running next to the lake was beautiful as was the weather. It was in the high 60s and the breeze coming off the water felt amazing. I started the second lap and thought to myself, one more lap and vacation begins! My husband and I were going to explore Finland for a week after the race and I was ready for that portion of the trip to begin.
Soon I went up and over the pedestrian bridge for the last time and turned to the finish line. I crossed the finish line feeling the most fresh I’ve ever felt after a race but I had achieved my goal. My hip and Achilles were not in pain nor did they hurt the following day so it was a good race!
I have nothing but good memories from the 70.3 World Championships. I love seeing all of the people racing from all over the world and admiring how many insanely fast people there are out there. So motivating! Now to just convince my husband/Sherpa that I need to qualify the Ironman 70.3 World Championship in New Zealand next year. I mean it’s New Zealand!
Guys! Traverse City is going to host a half Ironman next year! Who’s going to sign up?
That’s the text message that started it all over a year ago. Nicole, my trainer, had just found out that Traverse City, Michigan would be hosting an Ironman 70.3 in 2019 and wanted a bunch of us who train with her to sign up. But most of us, having never completed a half Ironman before, weren’t too quick to jump on that and, as it was Traverse City’s inaugural Ironman, the race sold out very fast. Nicole was in, we were out.
Fast forward to June 2019 and we received another text from Nicole:
This is a much longer post than normal, but I wanted to record my thoughts. I also spent a lot of time reading blogs about other people’s experiences leading up to this race, so I hope this might motivate someone or help them feel less nervousabout their first race.
After months of training the day was finally here; I was about to do my first half triathlon.
My nerves were high as I walked the few blocks from my hotel room to the transition area of the race. When I arrived the whole scene had an otherworldly feel to it. At 5am, it was still very dark, so temporary lights had been set up to illuminate the entire transition area which held 2700+ bikes. A man with a megaphone announced over and over “you must be marked before you can enter transition”, while a seemingly never-ending line of people quietly boarded buses that would fill and pull away. It all had the feel of something much more sinister than a race!
7feetnorth 