I had one pressing reason for wanting to do the July 10, 2021 Tri for Fun Super Sprint Triathlon. I wanted to see if I could still race. As Hot Stuff and I drove out to Rancho Seco Park, I sat silently in the passenger seat considering my fate as well as taking a few mental notes about the drive for my book. Eventually he broke the silence by telling me “It’s going to be OK”. Obviously sensing my distress and doubt.
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| Cooling towers in the race logo |
“I know” was the only thing I could say. I didn’t want to tell him about my worry over the swim, or how uncomfortable I felt in my tri suit. I didn’t want to tell him that I was afraid of being significantly slower than past races. I had stayed off the scale for the last two days knowing that another increase in my weight would only put me into a mental tailspin.
“It’s going to be over before you know it” was his response.
He was right. Since it was a super sprint, I would more than likely finish in about half an hour. His response made me sad though. Here I was, after competing in triathlons for over 8 years and loving almost every minute of it, dreading a race.
Flashback to My Last Triathlon Season
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| Good times in 2019 with my FREAKSHOW RED teammates |
After that, I switched gears to marathon training but ended up pulling out of the 2019 CIM due to a nagging knee injury. There would be more races I told myself. It was the first time that I pulled out of a race due to an injury. I turned my focus to the 2020 IRONMAN Santa Rosa 70.3 in May and started training.
And then COVID hit.
I kept training and hoping that the race would proceed. It was going to be a comeback race. A makeup for my less-than-optimal performance at the first IRONMAN Santa Rosa 70.3 in 2017. It was also going to be my first race out on the road after the hit-and-run.
The race was postponed and then eventually cancelled. I signed up for a virtual “Iron” challenge put on by TBF Racing that summer and then in August started training for the 2020 CIM. As the weeks went by and the training miles increased, I would check for race updates daily. Sometime in late September it was announced that the December marathon was canceled. I signed up for a virtual “marathon” event that would at least keep me somewhat focused but eventually I dropped down to the half marathon option. Virtual competition just wasn’t the same.
Prior to CIM being officially canceled, I had contacted IRONMAN and asked if I could use my Santa Rosa 70.3 entry fee to sign up for the 2021 IRONMAN California. This race had always been part of my original "comeback” plan. Do the 2020 Santa Rosa 70.3 to get back into distance racing and judge how I was going to handle racing on the road. If all went well, I would then sign up for the 2021 inaugural IRONMAN California.
Once the 2020 IRONMAN Santa Rosa 70.3 was canceled I was given a few race options that I could roll my entry to, but none of the races offered appealed to me either because they included an ocean swim or hundreds of miles of travel. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask about IMCA. After I submitted my request, I received a response saying that I could roll my entry to IMCA as long as I paid the difference. I was in!
During the months between the cancellation of CIM and the start of training for IRONMAN California, I languished at home. The depression of COVID was real and on top of that, I was battling the unfair and often cruel effects of menopause. Insomnia, brain fog, lack of energy, and weight gain. Seemingly uncontrollable weight gain.
Weight Gain
As someone that has always struggled with my weight, menopause weight gain is going to drive me completely insane. No matter what I did or do, the scale still seems to creep upwards. At first, I blamed it on COVID and being stuck at home with nothing to do but bake bread and drink wine. However, when I went back to diets and nutrition plans that had always worked in the past, I found, to my horror, that nothing seemed to work.
I tried intermittent fasting…weight went up. I tried keto…weight went up. I gave up wine for Lent…weight went up. I started my IRONMAN training…weight still went up!!! OMG! Friends would try and tell me that I was just gaining muscle. Uh…no. There is no way that I’ve gained that much muscle. Not 20+ pounds of muscle.
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| I want to look like this again...appx 145 lbs |
Yes, I just said twenty+ pounds. That is the difference between my desired race weight (above) for IRONMAN California and my current weight (as of Monday, July 12). On Saturday morning, when I put on my FREAKSHOW RED triathlon kit, I felt like a stuffed sausage. I mean the kits are always snug, but not uncomfortably so like it was race morning. I wanted to fake an injury and stay home.
The only thing that got me in the truck was knowing that I was signed up to do a full IRONMAN in about 3 months. If I fell apart before a super sprint, I would not be mentally ready for the big race. I needed to do this.
Back to Race Day
So, back to race day morning. I still got that queasy feeling as soon as the cooling towers came into sight. I don’t think that will ever change. We drove into the familiar park and I was amazed at all of the solar panels. So much had changed since the last time I was there. We pulled up to a long line of cars at the entrance kiosk and HS started fussing about how long it was taking. Another thing that will probably never change.
We parked the truck and took out my road bike and triathlon bag. I made sure to pack the correct tubes this time so I already felt like a winner.
I checked in at registration and was handed my yellow swim cap and race numbers. The lady asked if I had raced there before and I said “Yes”. She smiled and said “Then you know what to do with all of this.”
I eagerly agreed and turned to go set up my transition area. I looked at the race bib, wetsuit tag and helmet sticker in my hand and briefly panicked about what to do with them. I felt like a fraud. I took a deep breath and reminded myself what everything was and were it went.
I set up my transition area just like I always did. My hot pink towel tucked just below my rear wheel. Since I brought my road bike instead of my triathlon bike, I hung my helmet off of the handle bars instead of balanced on the aerobars but other than that my setup was the same. My nerves were still wound tight and there was over half an hour until the race started. I asked HS if he wanted to go for a walk.
We ended up walking the entire one mile run course. He told me it was OK if I wanted to run part of the course to warm up and I said walking was fine. I also opted not to do a warmup ride on my bike. I didn't want to risk getting another flat.
My BBF’s daughter was going to be racing in the Sprint race that morning, so I kept an eye out for some familiar faces, hoping to say “Hi” before my race started. I finally spied them over by check-in and went over. HS joined us before I had to go get in the water. I had to make some some attempt at a swim warm up (Coach James always in my head) even if it meant just getting my face wet and blowing some bubbles.
Swim
Since COVID and the permanent closure of the gym pool as well as the loss of use of the high school pool by the tri club, my swimming had amounted to 4-5 times in the past two weeks using my new swim tether. I entered the lake and was quite pleased with the temperature. The recent heat wave had the water at an ideal temp for a quick (hopefully) 200y swim. A mere 4,000 yards less than my upcoming IRONMAN swim.
I swam around briefly and went to stand with the other yellow caps. When instructed to line up at the start, I ducked under the buoy rope that separated the kid's beach swim area and the wide open waters, and tried to find my place in the pack. I can’t remember ever being in the first wave at a race. Normally the “old lady” group is one of the last to start. This morning, the 40+ men and women as well as the Clydesdale and Athena racers would be starting first.
I did my normal surveying of my competitors to try and decide who was going to beat me. Normally it was easy to tell because they would be clamoring to get up to the front of the pack. There were one a few people up at the front and one of them was telling everyone he wasn’t a fast swimmer. I figured I would stay put and hope that the fast people behind me were kind and wouldn’t try and drown me as they swam over the top of me.
It crossed my mind that my added fat layer would help me float but that idea was dashed when the realist in me reminded me that the extra fat was also going to have to ride and run.
The waiting was the worst. I just wanted the race to start so it could be over. Just finish so you know what you need to work on or at least be able to decide if you want to keep doing this.
As soon as the start was announced, I started the timer on my Garmin and began to swim. Two of the swimmers in front of me blocked by path and I found myself touching their feet for the first several strokes before one of the swimmers moved to the right.
In the water, the buoys seemed much farther part than they looked from the beach. I just kept swimming as I felt my arms start to fatigue. As I kept going, I realized it wasn’t fatigue, it was just the after affects of the adrenaline rush from the race start. This was sort of a relief because I realized that I felt pretty good. The swimmer on my left was a bit off course and I could hear the people in the kayaks yelling for him to go around the buoy (he was on course to cut on the inside). The swimmer on my right seemed to have switched to breaststroke and I soon passed him.
Before I knew it, I saw the swimmer in front stand up and exit the water. I looked down and realized I was also in standing depth water. I stood up and fished out the wetsuit tag thinking that I had to tear it off and hand it to someone. The race volunteer indicated that it was unnecessary, so I stepped onto the sandy beach and started to jog up to transition.
As I ran, I stripped off my goggles and cap. I wanted to walk but begged myself to just keep going. It was way too soon to start walking.
Bike
Transition was quick and efficient. I fumbled a bit with my helmet, still not adept at disconnecting and connecting the new fangled magnetic clip but eventually I got it strapped on my head. I jogged my bike over to the bike mount line and hopped on. As I pedaled off I could hear the announcer saying I was first out of transition.
What? No way.
I started pedaling a little quicker, slowing only to get over the several speed bumps on the road out of the park. As I pedaled on, I listened for the sound of a bike coming up behind me. I remembered hearing the pros during Barb’s Race passing me on their second lap of their full Vineman race. The wind thumping sound of solid disk wheels chasing you down and blowing by you is stained in my memory. This morning was silent.
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| This is what 165ish pounds looks like. You can definitely see it around my middle where from what I have read is where menopause weight goes ...it's a retirement community for fat. |
I started to panic wondering if I had gone too far. I had never been a lead rider. I was always guaranteed to have faster men out in front leading the way. My panic subsided when I saw the photographer at the turn around along with a handful of race volunteers. I navigated the turn and started back to transition. Towards the top of the slight climb from the turn I saw a group of three racers. I thought it was two women and a man but I couldn’t be sure. My mind switched to feeling chased. They knew where I was and how far they had to go to catch me.
Run
I finished up my safe, in park, four-mile ride and rolled back into transition. By this point I had completely screwed up my Garmin timing. The overall time would be right, but I had forgotten to change sports in transition so I knew things were goofy. As I ran out of transition and out on to the run course I heard the announcer say my name. He mentioned that I was the lead person out of the first wave (or something like that LOL).
This simple statement reminded me that even though I was in front there technically could be faster competitors from the other wave. This planted a little seed of doubt that I had to fight for the rest of the race.
As soon as I left the grassy area of the park and headed out to the dirt trail, the heat of the morning was evident, and it wasn’t that hot yet. Immediately I wanted to start walking. Why push yourself when you know you aren’t going to win? Is the pain worth it? You could probably start walking and still win your age group.
About a quarter of the way into the run, I heard footsteps behind me. Ok, here it is. Some chick is going to pass me and then I can walk. However, it was just a very fit man running effortlessly across the dirt and gravel. I felt sluggish and out of shape. My running never looks or feels like that. I plodded along convincing myself that slow running is still faster than walking.
At the turn around I got a look at a few more male runners closing in. No female yet. I wondered how much time was between the waves. 3 minutes? 5 minutes? If I saw a female in the next few minutes she could still finish with a faster time than me. I was working hard to not entertain the idea of winning overall female. That’s crazy talk. Besides, walking would feel really good right now.
With less than half a mile to go, I reminded myself that at the most it was less than 5 minutes. Less than 300 seconds. With all my time spent on the bike trainer and treadmill, I have gotten really quick at converting minutes to seconds. I do this when time seems to stand still. Seconds tick by much faster than miles or minutes.
I eventually saw a female and I didn’t think it was one of the women I saw on the bike. She had to be from the later wave. I turned back on to the grassy area and could finally see the finish line arch. It seemed so far away and I was so tired and nauseous. I pushed a bit harder knowing that the extra effort would end my suffering a little sooner.
Relief washed over me as I crossed the finish line. It may not have been the longest or the hardest race, but mentally, it was one of the toughest. I was so glad it was over. I walked over to a volunteer by the orange Igloo jugs and gladly accepted a cup of water.
Post Race
After I had a chance to cool off, I changed out of my race gear in to looser clothing that was not a constant reminder of my increased size. I splashed some water on my face to wash off the dirt and sweat and went to join HS and our friends. We had some catching up to do and their daughter had opted to do the longer race that morning, so we would have plenty of time.
Once the announcer said that initial results were posted, I walked over to the shade of the results tent. Several racers were huddled around the table. A few were trying to snap photos of the results so they could review them away from all the activity. I walked around to the back side of the table and craned my neck to get a peek. Things were a bit blurry but I found my name fifth from the top. I tried reading the names but found it easier to check another column that noted either M or F. I was the first F on the list with a time of :27:01.5, a new PR!
I was floored! When I started the day, my main goal was to finish and not embarrass myself or HS. I was hoping to finish with a decent time that wasn’t to far off from previous efforts. I was prepared to credit a slower time with my additional weight. I was not prepared to win overall female in spite of the extra pounds.
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| This is not what I expected when I left the house this morning |
Following the race, I started considering the implications for IRONMAN California. First and foremost is my weight. I am happy to know that I haven’t lost any speed. However, going into an IRONMAN race with all of those extra pounds is not something I want to do. I want to do this race knowing that I have done everything in my power to get ready.
I went through previous blog posts and noted complaints of an extra 20 pounds. However, it turned out that those 20 were based on a much lower desired race weight. A weight that may have been a little too aggressive. This time I'm shooting for something that should be attainable, or at least it was in the past.
My weight seems so out of control and erratic that my only option now is to turn it all over to God and pray for his strength. It's the one thing that has worked in the past that I haven't tried again...but that's a longer story best saved for another day.
