While it’s been nearly a month since racing at the IRONMAN World Championship in Kona, Hawaii, it still feels almost like it was yesterday. A dream race for so many triathletes, to have the experience to take part along with ~2,000 other women last month has been a lot to process! While I’ve been thinking a lot about the significance of the day and of the way critics’ comments about how “easy” it was to qualify really challenged me, I’ll share just my race recap and hope to come back to those topics another time.
Swim (1:18:24)
As my AG (the first) got in and tread water, I took a moment to look around. Kona is a special place and things felt SO big there–the ocean, the land and the feeling I was about to be part of something really special. I started with a lot of gratitude and excitement for the day.
After a few good minutes of swimming, following feet and sighting buoys, my goggles–chosen despite their somewhat-blurry and often headache-inducing fit since they reliably don’t leak–started to leak. I didn’t mind the waves at the turnaround or the thrill of being with so many people, but I did mind having to stop multiple times to make adjustments! I worried about my contacts falling out, my eyes getting irritated from the saltwater, and about whether or not I’d feel so blah all day long. For the rest of the swim, I fought the urge to have a pity party and even to give up (luckily I stuck with it, just like every single woman who started the swim!). I spent a lot of time swimming on my own and as I finished slower than my last two IRONMAN swims, I tried to be gentle with myself–this was my first ocean swim and one of just a few races done in a swimskin. I also figured a few minutes in the swim could be easily made up by a strong bike.
Bike (6:12:19)
Grateful to have the swim completed and eager to ride the course I’d previewed earlier in the week, I started off on the bike feeling pretty good. After some slower splits in town with climbing, I was amazed at a few things: how quickly I was going (a tailwind, I wondered?), how many women were passing me, and how much trouble I was having finding a rhythm in the aero position that felt powerful. I had some “WOW!” moments as I watched the pros race back towards town and as I thought about the history of the sport and the significance of an all-women’s race day.
Conditions were great on the long out-and-back route, which felt so daunting to this loop-loving gal. As the kilometres rolled by, the bike became a game of self-talk, reminding myself as what felt like rider after rider passed me that it was my race and that I was amongst the best in the world–of course there were tons of faster women than me! I watched other women throwing up and getting flats and worked to shut out the thoughts about being bored or having “so far” to go in favour of gratitude that I wasn’t the one with the excitement of a flat or GI distress. On that note, thank goodness for the tubeless setup on my bike–there was sealant on my frame after the race, so phew!
To get through the ride, I also started thinking about my purpose for racing, which is always around seeing what I can get out of myself. On Saturday, I started to realize that “getting more” out of ourselves doesn’t only mean going faster. In this case, I did so much work to keep myself motivated and while it was nice to have a baby bike PR, I’m most proud of the way I battled my tendency to feel insecure. Broadening my definition of success, rather than letting myself off the hook, was a powerful message to the itty bitty shitty committee in my head. Coming into T2, I was excited and eager to get out on the run course–so eager that I somehow lost my bike shoes at the race.
Run (4:24:04)
I knew the first ~10k would be the best of the day with spectators galore. I took my amazing coach’s (Angela Quick) advice and held my pace at a reasonable effort (I think!?) and worked to stay cool, hydrated and fueled. I walked Palani Hill as planned and felt strong as I started the long highway section towards the famed “Energy Lab”. Somewhere between those two spots, though, I started to have trouble eating and found myself slowing down to keep my heart rate and breathing in check. I went with it, though, acknowledging the risk of pushing too hard early on. Eventually, I walked every aid station, remembering a friend’s advice to think of them as buffets.
Seeing women biking as I neared halfway provided perspective. I started thinking about the meaning of finishing “poorly” and about how we talk about “not wanting to be last” or even mid-pack. I want to be able to celebrate my achievements and progress, but also think some of those comments can be a part of the problem that keeps women from participating, reiterating implicitly that it’s not worth showing up if you’re not the best or close to it.
In the end, I focused on getting myself to the finish line in a way that would make me proud. I thought about the people I love and about how proud my mom (who I lost about a year ago to cancer) might have been of me regardless of the time at the finish. With one mile to go, I was able to start feeling a little of that pride–even though it was pretty dark out.
Finish 12:03:32
I didn’t have a “bad” race in any way, but created a lot of struggle for myself with stories about not being good enough or worthy of being at that race. I hesitate to share because I think people would rather hear that it was just all magic and butterflies and sparkles, and that somehow it’s really easy for the women out there doing it. If we want to grow the sport of triathlon for women, we need to get real about things. The reality is, it takes a lot to put yourself out there and to deal with all the challenges–physical, emotional, psychological–that go along with that.
The sweet spot perspective I landed on, which I hope will resonate with people, is “I am good enough, and I can do better”. Both can be true, and what a great place to operate from. I’m grateful to Kona for the challenge and the lessons that came along with it.
Cheryl MacLachlan is an endurance athlete, teacher and coach living in London, ON. She is always looking for another bike and loves her dog Walter, books and writing.
Thanks for sharing!
Wow, what an amazing feat! Don’t let yourself forget how most of us would view 1) doing any Ironman; 2) qualifying for Kona; 3) finishing it in a pretty darn good time!
When I was training for the Death Ride in California, (it took me three tries to finish, and my finish was far from spectacular), the first guy I got official advice from reminded us that perhaps only a tenth of a percent of people in the country would even try this event. I never let myself forget that thought – and you shouldn’t either. What wonderful strength & endurance you have!!!