Author: maclachlancheryls

cycling · fitness · race report · racing · running · swimming · triathalon

IRONMAN Women’s World Championship (Guest Post)

maclachlancheryls

After a busy season of racing plenty of IRONMAN races in 2023, I was super excited to receive an email inviting me to compete at Worlds in Nice, France this year (based on IRONMAN’s “All World Athlete” age group ranking/points system). The following is a detailed recap of the day, which was September 22!

Swim 🏊‍♀️

After months of anticipation, training and nerves, as we hopped into the water to wait for the start, I felt surprisingly calm. Making it to the start line of a big race is an accomplishment in and of itself, let alone a world championship race on another continent! ✈️

I started the day anxious to get going, but reminded myself there’s literally nothing I’d rather be doing than an IRONMAN. Lifeguards and fellow triathletes to share the swim with, a beautiful bike course with professional photographers along the way and a marathon run with ample cheerleaders and “buffet stations” every couple of kilometers? Nothing to worry about except getting myself across that line? There’s nothing better than race day! 🎉

Though I felt pretty calm, the same can’t be said for the water of the Mediterranean Sea. Still a deep and beautiful blue, we had our first taste of what I’d call the day’s moody (but totally welcome!) weather in the swim. 🌊 I’d done some practice swimming but never too far from shore, so I wasn’t sure if the swells were par for the course or a special race day treat. At any rate, I loved the challenge! I could sight the buoys, for the most part. There were no jellies. 🪼 I started a bit back and it took me a while to find feet, but I liked the way the 3.8km were split up into an M shape. As the first age group to go, we had the course to ourselves! When things are rough in a swim, I tell myself that I’m lucky because I, for the most part, can think of a rough swim like a mosh pit and y’all know how I feel about that! 🤘🏼

I wrote before about how I felt like the pressure was off for this race. In all honesty, nobody really puts pressure on an age grouper the way we put it on ourselves. Entering this race, I didn’t look at my previous stats. This meant I wasn’t sure if I’d swam better or worse than my previous best, which I came close to but not quite on the day! The win for me—and the reason I was smiling—was that I really felt I’d done my best and done it with the positive attitude I knew I’d need going into the bike. 🥹

Bike

If you know me, you know I love biking. 💕🚲 That being said, seven hours is a long time to do anything, even if you love it! My game plan was to ride smart—pace myself through the climbing in the first 100k and make sure I fueled and kept in mind that I had a marathon to run yet. My coach said I could put out a bit of extra power on the climbs but to be honest, I mostly spun and enjoyed the scenery. ⛰️

I’d be lying if I said I paced the bike so well that the entire 180k was sunshine and roses. My neck hurt, I had a headache, I nearly missed bike special needs and the wind in the portion of the course after 100k that was described to me as “like a normal IRONMAN course” was incessant. But just as I was riding into that headwind, wondering how much of a refund I could get for my 2025 IRONMAN Lake Placid registration, we came to the most beautiful descent of the day. Just like that, I was back to loving biking again. 😂 I’d worried about it being busy or sketchy on the descents but the course was well-marked and the women I rode near were solid. I had tears in my eyes when this photo was taken because I was overwhelmed by the beauty of it all! 🥹 The gratitude I have for the places biking and endurance sports have taken me keeps growing. From what started as a love of spin classes that led to buying my first road bike ~15 years ago, it’s been quite the ride! ✨ In what felt like no time, I was back on the promenade, contemplating that marathon next on my to-do list.

PS Not only was I grateful to have my bike, which arrived a day and a half after I did, but man was I grateful for my disc brakes on the descents, the extra gears I added for this race on the climbs and my aero bars in that midride wind. 🫶🏼🚲🫶🏼 Also, a highlight I need to share was being able to call out my bib number en francais at the special needs stop with success. 🥐

Run

They’re all tough.

Last year in Kona, I found the run mentally hard, running to a turnaround at ~30km. In Nice, the marathon’s entirely along the flat, seaside Promenade des Anglais, involving four trips to the airport (~5k out/5k back). My other IRONMANs had 2-loop runs with variation, so I wasn’t sure what I’d make of Nice. I hoped I’d appreciate the flat ground and cheering, but wasn’t naive enough to think it would be “easy”.

I have a feeling if I asked a bunch of triathletes which course they prefer, they’d be split. They’d also likely complain about both. My goal is to stay away from that. I loved the energy from spectators, seeing Brent and my Tres Pinas peeps multiple times. I was also able to break it into obvious chunks. The 1st lap, I planned to go for a jog and keep my HR low. ♥️ The 2nd lap, I’d spin my hat around (channeling my athletic alter ego who doesn’t get tired and loves competing) and settle in. The 3rd lap, I’d add cola 🥤and walk the aid stations. The 4th lap, when the sun would be just about set, I planned to push to the finish line.

For the most part, this worked out. By the end of the 3rd lap, though, I had some cramping (the stomach kind and in one calf and then the other), so picking it up didn’t really happen. I had a buffer to come in under 13 hours, a pretty arbitrary target but one that motivated me. I was pleasantly surprised at how little I felt my nagging niggles and was mostly able to fuel throughout. It really was my legs that ran out of steam, and no wonder after that bike! Seeing people head to the finish line as I started another lap was hard, but people just coming off the bike were reminders we all wish we were in someone else’s (faster) shoes. The run out on the 4th lap felt longggg, but on the way back, “finally” heading towards the finish line, I dedicated a km to Brent (I couldn’t have done this without him!) and one to the memory of my mom to move me forward. I got “finish line feels” early on and felt some big emotions in that dark finish chute. IRONMAN marathons may always be tough, but that’s what makes that red carpet so meaningful. 💪🏼

Final Thoughts

A week after the race, home and almost over the jet lag, it all feels a bit like a dream. In previous races, I’ve raced immediately to focusing on what I could do better. With this race, I felt surprisingly content. I loved racing in France, sharing the course with an amazing field of women and taking on a challenging bike that I knew would mean I’d likely have a slower finishing time than my most recent races. I’m still remembering and reflecting on the experience each day but am heading into this offseason with a big sense of accomplishment and gratitude!

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fitness

Racing at the IRONMAN World Championship in Kona, Hawaii (Guest Post)

maclachlancheryls2 Comments

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.

Exiting the swim.

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.

Out on the Queen Ka’ahumanu Highway, biking.

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.

Early on in the run, feeling good.
Briefly running past the ocean before heading to the lava fields on the run.

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.

Grateful, crossing the finish line!
Showing off the medal after finishing.

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.

fitness · Guest Post · race report · racing · triathalon

Racing at IRONMAN Lake Placid (Guest Post)

maclachlancheryls

Last weekend, I participated in IRONMAN Lake Placid. It was my third IRONMAN and I went into the weekend feeling strong but also keeping in mind the course was hard and in long races, nothing feels guaranteed.

A sea of swim caps just before the swim start with Mirror Lake looking calm.

There are a few things that reliably help me through a long swim, one of them being a reminder that when I was a kid you could not get me out of the water! I know lots of triathletes just aim to survive the swim, but I’m usually able to enjoy it at least a little. Mirror Lake was a beautiful spot to swim 3.8km, and while I wasn’t able to use the cable much and found myself butting up against lots of (at the time, annoying) swimmers despite the rolling start, I found a decent rhythm in the swim. Later, I was pleased to see I took a little bit of time off my last IRONMAN swim time. Regular swimming with Balance Point Triathlon has given me a lot more confidence in the swim over the past few years and other than some super painful chafing on my neck (there’s a first for everything!), I’ll look back on the swim with fond memories of a solid warmup (1:11:34) for the long day ahead.

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Enjoying the bike course on both laps 1 and 2 even though it got rainy.

After going on a few trips to train in the big hills/mountains, riding portions of the bike course, driving the bike course, listening to podcasts and watching videos about the terrain, asking anyone who’d offer advice, and purchasing ~a bajillion dollars in upgrades to my bike set-up, I felt as ready as I could be for the bike portion of IRONMAN Lake Placid. Turns out, the challenge was “just right” and I loved watching people fade on the second lap. I faded too, but when it started pouring rain on the climb back in, I remembered the rides I’d done in the similarly pouring rain at home and hoped any 35-39-year-old women out there (stayed safe but) slowed down.

The climbs weren’t the only thing that were absolutely breathtaking–the scenery was postcard beautiful nearly the whole time and the descent into Keene I’d worried about for weeks was scary but as I hit 76km/hr on my skinny (but tubeless and new!) tires I was so grateful for plenty of space from my fellow racers, my new bike and the experiences I’ve had on bikes in hilly places over the last decade or so. I hated watching my average speed drop on the backside of the course, but I felt so strong on the flats and was warned about that dropoff! The backdrop of towering Whiteface Mountain and knowing that Brent climbed it just for training a few days before inspired me, too, and gave me some perspective that while the course was tough, it was in the realm of appropriately challenging. I got to see my non 35-39-year-old women friends (mostly as they passed me–way to go!) and other than some blatant drafting that set the obsessive rule-follower in me off, I had the kind of bike I could only hope for. I assumed I’d gone slower (6:13:26) here than last year on the also-challenging-but-maybe-not-quite-as-challenging IRONMAN Mont Tremblant bike course, but turns out that was a PR. Amazing what hard work and about ~$10,000 in upgrades can get you!

Heading out on the first lap, smiling about the downhill start.

In any race, I worry (a lot) about (a lot of) things–from losing my goggles or drowning in the swim to getting a flat tire or crashing on the bike–so I’m always a bit relieved to get to the run and only have to worry about moving forward on my own two feet. With that in mind, I started the run happy to be off the bike. Even though I knew I might fade later, I went with the good feeling and let it rip. Between spectators hitting the nail on the head with their Goggins-inspired encouragement and fellow runners I chatted with on the first loop, it was easy to smile for the cameras! In the back of my mind, I knew I had some work ahead of me and if I’m being honest, the hill I was dreading on the way back into town was every bit as hard as I thought it would be–yowzer! 

Looking a little bit more tired but giving the thumbs up heading uphill on lap 2.

On lap 2, I felt the twinge of cramps. I held them off by slowing, doing the math on how slow I could go and still hit my (arbitrary, ambitious, motivating) goal of averaging <6:00/km. At one point, I rubbed some of my base salts on a nasty wetsuit burn on my neck to distract myself from the cramps. Boy, did that remind me that things could get worse! The scenery, especially the ski jumps in the distance, and the shared suffering with other racers got me through the long out and back, as did thinking on purpose about friends and family–and drinking coke at every aid station. Seeing my friends, telling strangers they looked good, and reminding myself out loud that “it’s not supposed to be easy!” helped, too. My coach Ang’s reminder that “suffering is a privilege” helped me push myself instead of shying away from the challenge. I spent a while imagining my dog Walter pulling me by his leash before tackling that darn hill one more time! Luckily, the love of my life and total hunk Brent was stationed mid-ascent with one of my favourite songs in the world playing for me. Better yet, he let me know that I was fairly firmly setting myself up to finish 10th in my AG–good enough (in the Women for Tri era, but more to explore and unpack there!) for a Kona qualifier. From there, I felt lighter in my step and had to remind myself to enjoy the last mile, taking some time to let it all soak in. 

In the finisher chute.

As a girl who cited period cramps and walked off the track the day we ran the mile in 9th grade gym class, I always draw strength from looking back on my journey to the point where I’ll pay lots of money to run lots of miles. As cheesy as it sounds, as I ran to the finish line, I thought on purpose about how proud of that young girl I am for the progress she’s made and the woman I’ve become. I somehow held it together at the finish line (4:09:13 marathon, which works out to 5:56/km) and almost argued with Brent (sorry, honey–you’re the best!) when he told me my finishing time and that I’d PR’d across the board and overall (11:42:19). 

Tired but happy to finish, get a medal and sit down!

I am so grateful for the way that my person (Brent), my coach, my tri club, my friends, coworkers and family have supported and encouraged me and for the opportunity to choose to suffer in this sport. As I’ve said before, I love to see what I can get out of myself and racing helps me do that. Can’t wait to do it again (after some recovery and some heat-training) in just under 12 weeks. 

If IMLP is on your maybe list, move it to your must-do and get training–it’s no joke! 

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.