race recap – Lisa Purzner

November 5, 2019November 5, 2019

Ironman 70.3 World Championship – Nice 2019

Pre-Race

It has been a goal of mine to compete at the Ironman 70.3 World Championship for the past year. I finished 4^th in my age group at Lake Placid 70.3 in September 2018 and would have qualified at that point but I left the award ceremony early and missed the slot rolldown. At Ironman 70.3 Victoria this past June, I had another chance and didn’t miss out this time. I finished 9^th place in my age group and, thanks to additional slots provided by the Women for Tri initiative, I was offered a slot and accepted without hesitation!

Accepting my roll down slot for 70.3 Worlds

I had already planned to race in the ITU World Triathlon Grand Final in Lausanne, a 7-hour drive from Nice, a week prior. So now, I would be competing in 2 world championships in 1 week!

Different than any other race I have competed in, the IM 70.3 World Championship would be held on 2 separate days: the women’s race on Saturday, September 7^th and the men’s race on Sunday, September 8^th.

Rod & I in Chamonix, France, the week before the IM 70.3 WC

Hiking along the Grand Balcon Nord trail with the boys

Emily & I posing in front of the Arve River on our last night together in Chamonix

Thursday, Sept 5^th

On the Wednesday morning 3 days after the ITU race and 3 days before IM 70.3 WC, I woke up in Chamonix with a sore throat. I felt worried that I wouldn’t be able to perform my best, but remained optimistic that I could recover before race day. I think that the physical stress of traveling halfway across the world mixed with the excitement of international competition affected my immune system. Rod and I had a gorgeous 5-hour drive through the Alps from Chamonix to Nice, then down towards the Mediterranean Sea. The Italians had constructed a 12 km tunnel through Mont Blanc in the 1960s which made it super convenient for us to drive straight through from one valley into the next.

Obligatory tourist photo in front of #ILoveNice sign

Upon arriving in Nice, we checked into our Airbnb in old town (Vieux Nice) and walked to athlete check-in, where there was super tight security with bag checks and metal detectors everywhere. This heightened security was likely a response to the devastating terrorist attack that occurred in Nice in July 2016.

After picking up my race package, I did a short swim in the Mediterranean without my wetsuit; the water was even warmer than Lac Léman and very salty. I have never seen water so blue in my life and I now understand the name Côte d’Azur (“blue coast”). Rod and I whipped up a quick, easy dinner before walking up to the English pre-race briefing at the massive Palais des Expositions. After leaving the briefing, we grabbed gelato with one of my fellow Team Canada teammates and two of his friends before heading home to bed.

Moments before my first swim in the Mediterranean

Friday, Sept 6^th

I woke up at 7 am so I could preview the hilly, technical bike course, as suggested by my coach. (Check out this incredible aerial footage of Col de Vence.) I sat in the passenger seat while Rod drove the uphill portion of the bike course. The first 10k were fast and flat, followed by a few short and steep climbs for the next 15k. Following this, we got into the final gradual 9k steady climb to the mountain pass, Col de Vence, which has been part of the Tour de France in the past.

Previewing the bike course before race day

I hopped on my bike at Col de Vence and caught up to a group of triathletes who were also descending the course. Rod followed me down as I cautiously descended the most technical portion of the bike course behind an American athlete, without destroying my legs for the race the next day. There were a few sharp hairpin turns and blind corners, but the road was in excellent condition and the scenery was spectacular. Between the 4 of us triathletes, we had 3 chase vehicles that were following 100m behind the last cyclist – I felt like a pro cyclist with a support car. From Col de Vence, I descended for nearly an hour and had still not reached the bottom of the descent. I hopped back in the car and Rod drove the rest of the way back to Nice.

Descending Col de Vence with other triathletes

After lunch at our Airbnb, I realized I was missing my swim cap from my race package and hurried over to athlete check-in to grab a green one. Rod joined me for my obligatory pre-race 20-minute run along the Promenade des Anglais next to the Mediterranean Sea. Unlike Ironman Canada, we would not have access to our bike and run gear bags on race morning, so I was forced to pack everything I would need in T1 and T2 in advance. A thunderstorm rolled in right as Rod and I were dropping off my bike and run gear bags. We grabbed an early dinner, went for ice cream and were in bed by 10:30 pm.

*Dark clouds rolling in as I waited to rack my bike*

Saturday, Sept 7th

In usual pre-race fashion, I woke up with a mild case of pre-race jitters at 4:30 am before my alarm went off. The one benefit of racing twice in the same week is that I was considerably more calm than usual. Breakfast consisted of coffee, scrambled eggs, toast with nut butter and a banana. On Friday, the water temperature was around 24.5^o Celsius, the highest allowable temperature for a wetsuit legal swim. Thankfully, the air temperature had dropped by a few degrees overnight and as soon as I arrived in transition, the announcer informed us that it would be wetsuit legal for age group athletes. Similar to my competitors, I felt relieved that I would have the added buoyancy of my wetsuit. (For the pros it was not a wetsuit legal day; they race in their swim skins if it’s above 22^o Celsius.)

I set up my bike nutrition and double checked my gears, brakes and aerobars. I noticed that my right elbow pad was slightly loose and after my failed attempt to secure the bolts myself, I had the bike mechanic tighten the lower bolts and inflate my tires. I ran into Katie, a fellow Canadian in my age group, whom I had met at the Toronto Triathlon Festival last July. It was comforting to see a familiar face in a sea of unfamiliar ones. We left transition together, then I spent 20 minutes pacing along the transition zone fence looking for Rod, but I couldn’t find him and tried not to panic. I’m a strong, independent woman, but I was really hoping to kiss my husband one last time before I embarked on my first ocean swim in a race and definitely the most dangerous bike course I have ever ridden. I eventually gave up and was struggling to put my wetsuit on near the drop-off for morning clothes when he called out my name. I immediately felt at ease. He wished me a good race and took one last photo of me before I entered the athletes only area.

Finally found Rod for my pre-race photo (& good luck kiss!)

(Check out the IM 70.3 WC course overview and pro women’s race highlights.)

It was incredible to see helicopters and drones overhead, providing live race coverage across the world. It hit me at that moment that I was about to race at a world championship event, with the best triathletes in the world. Although I felt a bit anxious, I maintained a calm outward demeanor. After the French national anthem played, the pro women started their swim start promptly at 7 am, which was led by Lucy Charles for the entire swim. I spent 20 minutes waiting in line for a last-minute porta potty stop – the one downside to an all-female race field is that us women always take longer in the washrooms than men. About 15 minutes before our age group start time, I joined the green swim cap group and seeded myself in the middle of the pack, close to Katie and 2 other athletes from Ontario. Surprisingly, I wasn’t as nervous as I had been in Lausanne, likely because I had just raced 6 days earlier. I was almost looking forward to entering the water!

1900m Swim
(Check out my swim on Strava!)

Time: 34:02
Pace: 1:47/100m
Division Rank: 60/246
Overall Rank: 375/1778

The triangular swim course was 850m straight out from the beach, 200m across to the right and another 850m back to shore. The swim start was a self-seeded rolling start within each age group, with 10 athletes setting off every 10 seconds. After a brief sprint on the black carpet laid atop the uneven pebbly beach, I dashed into the water as one of the first athletes in my small group. I swam hard with a quick turnover for the first few hundred metres, feeling confident and powerful in my wetsuit. Although the water temperature was very pleasant, I worried that I would be quite warm by the end of the swim. The waves were gently rolling and the course was well-marked with large, coloured buoys every 100m, which made it easy to sight. Glancing down into the blue abyss below me, I spotted an orange octopus swimming around 8 feet below the surface. I had a moment of awe before I shifted my attention back to swimming.

Swim start chaos (from https://www.endurancebusiness.com/2019/industry-news/images-from-2019-ironman-70-3-world-championship-part-three-womens-race/)

The first 800m felt fast and I didn’t realize the current was actually assisting us away from shore until I made the first right turn and felt waves pushing into me from my right side. It became more challenging to sight with the increased waves and athlete congestion on this 200m section of the course, but I followed the bubbles ahead of me and sighted more frequently. Occasionally, I nearly swam into one of the many kayaks positioned on the inland side and definitely ingested too much saltwater. As I made a sharp turn around the final turn buoy, I managed to swim on another woman’s hip for a couple hundred metres before accidentally veering off slightly to the right. I almost swam on the wrong side of the final buoy before correcting my course and keeping it on my right. In Nice, the water drops off quickly past the shore and is pretty deep until you are within a few meters of shore, where the pebbly bottom abruptly comes up to meet you.

Multi-tasking in T1: unzipping my wetsuit & checking my swim split

As I exited the water and grabbed onto a rope that was set up to assist us, an older athlete in front me struggled to regain her balance and required assistance from the volunteers. I think a lot of athletes felt dizzy from the waves and drinking saltwater. I ran up the black mat, unzipped the top half of my wetsuit (much more efficiently than Ironman Canada) and lay down on my back so the wetsuit strippers could peel my wetsuit off my legs. After grabbing my bike gear bag from the rack, I ran into a change tent and quickly changed out of my tri shorts and into my MelRad trisuit. Since Ironman follows the local triathlon organization rules, all athletes were required to wear race bibs on our backside for the bike. The day before, I had made the decision to do a full outfit change after the swim to minimize chafing on the bike, regardless of whether I would be wearing a wetsuit. I know my T1 time suffered because of this decision, but my priority was to be comfortable and be able to enjoy cycling in Provence with my husband a couple days after the race.

T1: 5:19

91k Bike
(Check out my ride on Strava!)

Time: 3:10:43
Average Speed: 28.95 km/h
Average HR: 153 bpm
Division Rank: 67/246
Overall Rank: 312/1778

Despite competing in triathlons for a decade, I have still not learned how to perform a flying mount. Although I’ve mastered running in my bike cleats without falling on my face or butt, it’s frustrating to get passed by athletes who are running much faster because they’re barefoot. As mentioned in my ITU race report (https://lisapurzner.com/itu-world-triathlon-grand-final-lausanne-2019/), one of my goals for 2020 is to learn how to mount my bike with my shoes already clipped in.

I mounted my bike immediately after the mount line and accelerated quickly to pass a few athletes along Promenade de Anglais, a straight 6k section of road heading west out of Nice, marked with pylons and lined with spectators for the first 2-3 km. Leading up to the race, there was a long discussion on the IM 70.3 WC Facebook page as to whether a triathlon or road bike was optimal for this race. General consensus was that whichever you were more comfortable climbing and descending on was the best option and this was definitely the case! After we turned and headed northbound along the industrial road (Chemin des Berges du Var), there was a strong headwind and I was thankful to be on a tri bike as I was overtaking athletes on road bikes.

Pushing hard on the only flat section of the bike course

At 10k, the climbing began with a few short, steep climbs up to 20% grade that forced me out of my saddle and woke up my quads. Thankfully, there were flat or downhill sections after most of the steep climbs, which enabled me to catch my breath, let my legs recover and ingest some fuel. The main climb up Col de Vence went from 26.4k to 36.2k, with an average grade of 7%, with no flat or downhill sections until the top. Around kilometer 25, I was passed by 2 male cyclists who were out for a leisurely Saturday bike ride; I was pissed off, as this was a women’s only race (male triathletes competing on Sunday were forbidden to ride the bike course until after 2:30 pm) and it was demoralizing to be passed by a male cyclist who wasn’t even racing, on our closed race course.

I refocused and recalled all the Saturday morning hill repeats up Observatory Hill in Victoria with my MelRad triathlon group and realized that I was well-prepared to ride up 1200m over 34k. We rode through 10 to 20 small French villages, perched on rocky outcroppings along the mountainside. Locals welcomed us to each village, cheering us on, “Allez, allez!”. The spectators’ energy and enthusiasm were contagious and much appreciated.

As we continued to climb higher, we entered into a more arid environment with smaller trees and more sun exposure. I distracted myself from the heat and non-stop exertion by counting down the kilometer markings to Col de Vence, which started around 9k from the top and included the average hill grade for the subsequent kilometer. I felt strong for the duration of the climb and kept my heart rate between 155-160 bpm, rising slightly higher only when I was accelerating past other athletes quickly enough to avoid a drafting penalty.

In the last km or two before Col de Vence

I rode hard past the aid station and tucked into my aerobars for the first part of the descent. It had been helpful to have ridden this next part of the course the day before. The last 5k section of gradual uphill felt easier than I anticipated and I continued to ingest more Clif bloks, water and Gatorade before the long descent. I was surprised how cautiously many of the women ahead of me were descending and I was equally surprised that I felt so confident on the descent.

A few kilometers into the descent, a couple of volunteers were standing towards the middle of the road motioning us to slow down. About 50m later, we rode passed a female athlete who had crashed and was wrapped in an emergency blanket on the median of the road. Another athlete had stopped to attend to her, along with a couple of volunteers, presumably waiting for an ambulance. The injured woman was conscious but in shock. Seeing this was a sobering experience for all of us, and I took the descents more carefully after passing her.

I felt strong and continued to pass several athletes on the descent. There were limited opportunities to drink and eat, but I forced some Clif bloks in my mouth whenever I had the chance to ensure I would have enough energy for the run. At the last aid station, an athlete ahead of me dropped a water bottle onto the road, rolling directly into my path. I somehow avoided it at the last second, causing me to become agitated for a moment. Shortly after, I nearly crashed into a rocky brick wall while navigating around a tight corner.

As I finished the descent, I was on my own, guided by the course markers and helpful volunteers. The last technical part of the bike course was returning onto the Promenade des Anglais around a wide curve, that ended with a super tight hairpin turn around a bunch of pylons. I later found out that several other women had to unclip from their pedals at this point because it was such a sharp turn. As I headed towards T2 on the Promenade with less than 7k to go, I reached a comfortable 38-40 km/h in my aerobars with my head mostly tucked down and was able to sip on a bit more water and Gatorade. Although the bike course progressively narrowed as we approached town, I continued to shout out, “On your left!” and passed a few more athletes before turning left and riding up the spectator-lined, cobblestone path leading to T2.

I dismounted my bike a metre before the dismount line and ran in my bike shoes, until the woman in front of me got stopped by an official for undoing her helmet strap before racking her bike. I quickly racked my bike, grabbed my Garmin bike computer (apparently several athletes reported that their bike computers had gone missing from either their bikes or their T2 bags the following day) and ran to the run gear bag rack area. I dumped the contents on the ground and switched shoes, removed my helmet, put on my hat, grabbed my First Endurance Canada EFS Liquid Shot flask (same as what I used for IM Canada), and removed my bike gloves at the last second before handing my bag off to a volunteer. Needless to say, my T2 was definitely more efficient than T1 in this race.

T2: 2:30

21.1k Run
(Check out my run on Strava!)

Time: 1:41:22
Pace: 4:48/km
Average HR: 170 bpm
Division Rank: 106/246
Overall Rank: 464/1778

I had no idea when I crossed the timing mat exiting T2, but suddenly I was out on the run course. Spectators were pressed up on both sides of the barricades and were cheering us on by the names on our race bibs. I smiled in response and tried to enjoy the moment, before I realizing that I still had to run 21 km. The run course took several sharp turns and a dip through an underground tunnel (presumably to avoid interfering with the bike course) before entering onto the Promenade. As the run course was two out-and-back loops, I could hear the spectators close to the finish line cheering loudly.

I glanced down at my watch every so often and was pleasantly surprised to see a sub 5:00/km pace. My heart rate was higher (160-165 bpm) than usual for the pace, but I attributed that to the heat. It was close to 30^o Celsius. Aid stations were located every 1.6 km and I could not have been happier to see each one of them. I drank sips of water and splashed the rest on my face and grabbed ice at every aid station where it was available. Between kilometers 2.5 and 16, I took a sip of my EFS Liquid Shot every 15-20 minutes.

Grateful for the spectators’ contagious energy

As I ran further away from the finish line and towards the airport, the number of spectators sharply declined, making it harder to remain focused. My thoughts alternated between trying to enjoy the moment, thinking about my running posture and mechanics, calculating how much longer I had to keep running if I maintained the current pace, looking forward to eventually crossing the finish line and wondering what delicious French food I would get to eat. A few hundred metres after the turnaround near the airport, I spotted a fellow Canadian in my age group running towards the turnaround on the other side of the course and I tried to use that as motivation to keep or improve my current pace so that she couldn’t catch up to me.

About 1 km from the start of my second lap, I spotted Rod off to the right side and forced a smile for his iPhone, even though all I wanted to do was complain about how much I was suffering. My left hamstring started grumbling around 15k, but it wasn’t severe enough to slow me down. My coach had warned me that the hardest part of the run would be from kilometers 13 to 17, and I vowed to myself that I would try as hard as I could to maintain my current pace. During my second lap, the course was flooded with runners and the aid stations were not prepared. I was only able to grab ice at a couple of the aid stations on my second lap and had to grab my own cups of water a few times.

My heart rate continued to climb and I could feel the heat, but there was a bit of relief after the final turnaround point near the airport, as I was able to get a bit of shade next to a fence. My legs felt heavy running back towards the finish line, but seeing Rod around 19 km gave me an extra boost to pass as many people as I could on my way to the finish line. The last 2k felt the longest, despite the number of spectators cheering on the sidelines. There was a big blue Ville de Nice archway that wrapped over top of the run course that I initially thought was the finish line on my first lap, which was actually 1 km from the finish line; as I passed under the archway, I told myself that I had less than 5 minutes of suffering to go.

Similar to the ITU race, my legs were lacking an extra gear but I pushed the pace as hard as I could approaching the finish chute and Ironman carpet. I passed a few more athletes as I sprinted my way down the finish chute and threw my hands up in the air in celebration of completing my first ever Ironman 70.3 World Championship. My finish time was 5:33:53; I finished 73rd out of 246 in my age group and 320th out of 1778 women.

So thrilled to running down the finish chute

I felt accomplished to have finished such a legendary race and relieved that my race season was finally over. My legs felt like jelly; I had trouble walking in a straight line as my finisher’s medal was placed around my neck and a volunteer wrapped me in a big beach towel. I was given a finisher’s hat and t-shirt, then directed towards the morning clothes bag area. I waited for Katie and another Canadian athlete, who were close behind me. The 3 of us wobbled over to the post-race food area in the outdoor amphitheatre and enjoyed a post-race meal of Nutella crepes, soufflé, pizza, pretzels, beer and water – not a bad way to satisfy my hard-earned appetite! It was enjoyable to sit down with a couple of fellow Canadians and bond over new blisters, technology mishaps and food sensitivities. Once we were adequately refueled and somewhat rehydrated, we made our way back out to find our family and loved ones.

All smiles at the end of a long race season

Post-Race Thoughts

This was not my fastest swim, which I attribute to a couple of key factors. In the 2 weeks leading up to the race, I only completed one structured swim workout and had limited access to a pool while in Europe. This was my first open water swim in saltwater; living in Nanaimo next to the ocean, I should have forced myself to practice swimming in the Georgia Strait throughout the summer to get comfortable in a large, salty body of water. Perhaps I would have been more at ease swimming in ocean swells and would have a better understanding of how saltwater makes you even more buoyant. Although I wonder if I could have pushed harder climbing Col de Vence, I am happy with my bike performance and was surprised how comfortable I felt descending down the technical switchbacks and around blind corners. My run was slightly better than I expected and was my best-ever half marathon time! I’m astonished that I was able to run with my heart rate that high, but I think that the insanely energetic environment kept me going. Not surprisingly, I need to simplify my transitions and should have prioritized speed over comfort. Nevertheless, I experienced minimal chafing and was able to ride my triathlon bike up Mont Ventoux 4 days later with Rod!

2h climb up Mont Ventoux from Bedoin meant navigating around the local animals

Epic cycling in Gorges du la Nesque in Provence after climbing up Mt Ventoux

The IM 70.3 WC race was the most exhilarating 70.3 race I have ever done and it was the best possible way to end my 2019 race season – in a place where there is an abundance of wine, cheese and carbs.

Artfully crafted desserts at every corner

Gordes, the most beautiful hilltop village in Provence

October 4, 2019October 6, 2019

ITU World Triathlon Grand Final Lausanne 2019

Pre-Race

In July 2018, I qualified for the ITU World Triathlon Grand Final standard distance triathlon at the Toronto Triathlon Festival. It was going to be my first race in Europe, my first world championship race and I would be representing Age Group Team Canada, under Triathlon Canada. My best friend, Emily, qualified for the same race about six weeks later and we were ecstatic to travel to Lausanne, Switzerland, to compete in a race together.

According to the ITU, more than 4000 professional and amateur athletes from all around the world were expected to arrive in Lausanne to compete in the world championship. The junior and under 23 elites would race on Friday, August 30^th. On Saturday, August 31^st, the elite men’s and women’s races would take place, along with the age group sprint distance athletes. Emily and I would race the age group standard distance race on Sunday, September 1^st, followed by the paratriathletes and the under 23/junior mixed relays, a relatively new format of triathlon that will debut in the 2020 Tokyo Olympic Games.

My very understanding boss granted me 3½ weeks off work, which allowed me to spend an extended weekend visiting family and friends in Toronto. Emily and I left for Switzerland 5 days before the race to give ourselves a few days to adjust to the 6-hour time difference. We flew into Geneva, took the train to Lausanne with our massive bike bags and arrived at our hotel, sweaty and exhausted from awkwardly hauling our luggage a kilometer uphill.

Jet lagged but so excited to be reunited

As members of Team Canada, we participated in all the pre-race social events, including a field trip to the Olympic Museum, the parade of nations, welcome ceremony and “pasta party”. It was incredible to meet so many friendly, inspiring Canadian triathletes from across the country, many of whom I will keep in touch with long after the race. We also took part in the standard distance bike familiarization, where a large group of us, led by Team Canada managers/coaches Christian Milette and Christine Cogger, leisurely rode most of the bike course where we would race on Sunday.

Stunning 180 degree view from the Olympic Museum

Emily, Mel & I
Wayne & Erick

Emily and I swam twice in Lac Léman (called Lake Geneva by tourists), which was the most pristine water I have ever swam in and perfectly comfortable without a wetsuit. The ITU warned all athletes that it would be a morning-of decision whether each race would be wetsuit legal. (Note: ITU regulations state that wetsuits will not be permitted if the water temperature is above 22^o Celsius for age group athletes and 20^o Celcius for elites, whereas Ironman regulations permit the use of wetsuits up to and including 24.5^o Celcius.) Our husbands arrived on Saturday, August 31^st, just in time to cheer us on for the race.

Scoping out the finish line
Racking our bikes
Our jet lagged husbands!

Race Morning

I tossed and turned all night long because our hotel room was so hot and I was hesitant to sleep with the window open due to the noise of young people partying outside. In typical pre-race fashion, I woke up at 4:30 am before my alarm went off. I ate in the hotel room, as our hotel didn’t offer breakfast until 8 am: whole wheat bun with nut butter, banana and espresso.

At 5:45 am, Emily and I departed on foot for the Metro station. There were people still partying, drinking and smoking in the streets from Saturday night. We probably looked crazy to them, outfitted in our Triathlon Canada uniforms with our last names written on the front and back. We walked from the Ouchy-Olympique Metro station to the transition zone. It was still quite dark out and I wished that I had packed a headlamp. Indeed, everyone in transition was buzzing that it was declared a non-wetsuit swim with a water temperature of 23^o Celcius, as had been the case for the sprint distance race the day before. Emily and I inflated our tires, set up our nutrition and transition area and walked over to the swim start.At 7:15 am, we watched the first swim wave set off from the Bellerivé Beach, then we did a short, 5-minute swim warm-up adjacent to the swim start area. The water was a refreshing but pleasant temperature and it was a bit choppy with rolling waves. Following my swim warm-up, I ate 3 Clif blocks and made a final porta potty stop next to the swim start before we lined up in our age group corral. The sun began to rise slowly over the Alps in the distance and I finally spotted our husbands spectating from behind the barrier about hundred metres away. As planned, I made my way to the front left of our age group pack and awaited our signal to start.

Minutes before our swim wave started – try to find me jumping & waving my arms in the air

1500m Swim
(Check out my swim on Strava!)

Time: 28:38
Pace: 1:55/100m
Division Rank: 36/91

The 1500m swim course was a misshaped rectangular loop in Lac Léman, starting at Bellerivé Beach and finishing at the pier a few hundred metres away. Our age group’s official start time was 7:52 am and precisely one minute before, we were let out from the grassy holding area onto the pebbly, sandy beach and into the water. We stood in about 4 feet of water while waiting for our air horn start, with Euro dance music blasting in the background. All of a sudden, the horn blew and chaos ensued. The water was really choppy and I could only get a breath in on my right side. I felt like I was hyperventilating and needed to breathe every other stroke, rather than my usual every third. I also felt dizzy from getting hit sideways by the waves, but I was happy that at least I was wearing earplugs to minimize the dizziness. I tried to focus on maintaining a high turnover and low profile in the water but I wasn’t sure if I was swimming efficiently given that the swim was a non-wetsuit swim, which was a race-day first for me. As my coach had warned, there was a fair amount of body contact within the first few hundred metres, which was way more anxiety-provoking without a wetsuit on.

Women 30-34 swimming towards the first red buoy

Around 260m, I made a sharp left turn around the first red buoy, then turned almost directly into the wind and the waves. Now, I was forced to breathe on my left side. I attempted to swim on other people’s feet as often as I could, but our pack spread out fairly quickly and the lead pack pulled too far ahead to draft. It was a long, seemingly never-ending stretch toward the second red buoy. Despite feeling like a sailor who had been capsized at sea and was fighting for her life, I felt slightly more confident in my swim performance as I passed a few orange coloured swim caps, who had probably started in an earlier swim wave. More so in this race than any other one this season, I definitely looked forward to getting out of the water.

After rounding the second buoy at 900m, I caught up to an American woman’s feet and tried to hang on as long as I could. Heading back towards shore, I could feel the assist of the waves pushing me towards the swim exit. I was thankful for the extra speed, as it almost felt like I was surfing the waves rather than fighting against them. I was finally able to breathe normally on both sides and tried to accelerate to catch the swimmers ahead of me after passing the final red buoy. I kept swimming until my fingers grazed the sandy bottom at the swim exit. I glanced down at my watch and was satisfied with my sub 30-minute swim. I ran down the long blue mat into transition and felt chills every time a spectator yelled, “Go, Canada!” as I ran past them.

Relieved to be done with the swim & heading into transition

This was my first non-wetsuit race. I definitely lacked confidence during the first half of the swim and I definitely noticed the change in buoyancy. I had to kick harder to stay up in the water and found that it wore me down and definitely noticed it coming out of the water. The one upside was that I didn’t need to spend time getting rid of the wetsuit in T1!

I found my bike in the third last row towards the far end of transition. A fellow Canadian woman in my age group who had racked her bike near me apologized – in typical Canadian fashion – for swimming on my feet and accidentally touching them during the swim; I responded, “No worries!” and wished her a good race. After I quickly dried off my feet, I put on my socks, bike shoes, helmet and sunglasses and ran out along the perimeter of transition with my bike. (Note: In order to exit transition, all athletes were required to run down to the far end of our row, then run along the fence along the perimeter of transition. I assume this was to prevent any collisions between athletes and to ensure fairness because all athletes had to travel the exact same distance in transition.)

T1: 3:03

40k Bike
(Check out my ride on Strava!)

Time: 1:11:59
Average Speed: 33.34 km/h
Average HR: 158 bpm
Elevation Gain: 401m
Division Rank: 20/91

The bike course was two 20k loops that were closed to traffic. It included 3 climbs and one technical descent with a sharp turn at the bottom, where bright orange crash pads were set up along the barricade for athlete safety. Emily and I had ridden sections of the bike course prior to race day but we were unable to ride the course in its entirety due to traffic and ongoing races on Friday and Saturday.

It took me a couple extra seconds to properly clip into my pedals after the mount line, then I focused on slowing my breathing rate and getting my heart rate down for the first kilometer before the first climb up Avenue d’Ouchy, a 600m long climb with a gradient of up to 11%. I passed a few athletes on the straightaway before reaching the bottom of Avenue d’Ouchy, where I climbed at a moderately hard intensity and remained in my saddle for the whole climb. At the top of the climb, I ate 2 Clif bloks, followed by sips of water. I had fun descending down the road to the right, but I rode a bit conservatively, up to a maximum of 52 km/h, and got out of my aerobars heading into the downhills. I made a few sharp turns including the turnaround at the waterfront on Quai d’Ouchy, and then climbed back up to the top of Avenue d’Ouchy, a kilometer-long climb with a maximum gradient of 15%. I rode westbound through the picturesque city streets and descended down the steep Avenue des Bains, a 600m descent with an average gradient of 12%. It is difficult to ride aggressively when you have bright orange crash pads warning you at the bottom of the hill, so I braked early, stayed wide and cut close to the corner, then accelerated out of my saddle immediately after the turn.

Focusing on getting my head & heart rate down before attacking the first hill

Next was a 1.5k steady climb with a gradient of 3 to 7% along Route de Vidy and Vallée-de-la-Jeunesse near the IOC headquarters, followed by a 2k gradual descent towards the highway on-ramp and gentle rolling hills towards the industrial area. It was difficult making decisions about whether or not to pass other athletes, as there were several race officials on motorcycles enforcing the penalties for drafting (riding within 10m of another athlete for more than 20 seconds) and blocking (riding alongside another athlete and blocking others from passing). I played a bit of cat-and-mouse with a female athlete from Great Britain, and then eventually accelerated past and remained ahead of her for the rest of the ride. At the end of the first 20k loop, approximately 35 minutes had elapsed and I decided I would try to maintain or slightly increase my effort for the second loop. I accelerated along the straightaway on the main street, Avenue de Rhodanie, as triathletes starting their first lap merged onto the roadway. I climbed Avenue d’Ouchy more aggressively the second time around and was out of my saddle for the first half of it. I felt more comfortable with the sharp turns and the technical descent down Avenue des Bains on the second loop. The presence of more bikes on the course made it more challenging to avoid drafting, but I felt strong enough to accelerate past several athletes without overreaching.

I alternated sips of Gatorade and water throughout the bike, but limited my fluid intake a bit as it was a very pleasant temperature of about 22^o Celcius with lower humidity than it had been since we arrived. About a meter before the dismount line, I unclipped and dismounted my bike and sprinted through transition in my bike shoes. Similar to T1, upon entering we were allowed to run down our rows towards our bike racks, then had to head out running the same direction until we reached the far end of transition zone, then ran around the perimeter before exiting a second time. I heard the race official blow his whistle at another athlete who had probably unclipped his or her helmet strap before racking their bike. As I re-racked my bike, I was pleased to see our age group rack was closer to empty than it was full. I unclipped my helmet, removed my sunglasses, swapped my bike shoes for running shoes, clipped on my race belt, shoved an emergency 3-pack of Clif bloks in my sports bra, threw my hat on and dashed out of transition.

T2: 2:07

10k Run
(Check out my run on Strava!)

Time: 47:31
Pace: 4:45/km
Average HR: 164 bpm
Division Rank: 41/91

The run course was 2 loops along the waterfront past the Olympic Museum, including 3 short hills – the first was the steepest and the subsequent two were not as steep. I wondered what the run course would be like and how awful the hills would be. One of my goals for this race was to run the entire race and not walk, no matter how grueling the hills.

I started my run, I spotted Rod off to the right side and appreciated his supportive cheers. Again, it felt incredible to have complete strangers cheer for me, “Go, Canada!” and I was reminded once again, that I was not only representing myself but my country.

Trying to find my rhythm a few hundred metres into the run

The first 2k or so were completely flat, then the course made a sharp left turn up a short, 25% grade hill towards the Olympic Museum, followed by a couple long switchbacks descending back down. Almost immediately after returning to the promenade, we turned sharply to the left again and climbed up a slightly less steep, but longer slope. I recalled Christine Cogger advising us to take the shortest line up the hill during our pre-race Team Canada briefing and I stuck to the fall line while trying to remember my coach’s advice for uphill running form: lean forward and drive the knees up. At the end of the third hill, my heart rate was pretty high as I hadn’t recovered from the previous two, and I tried to do some pursed lip breathing as I ran downhill.

I welcomed every aid station, which were positioned every 1.5 to 2k on the run course, and followed my coach’s advice to splash water on myself to keep my core temperature down. At the end of lap 1, I would have been happy to call it a day, but I sped past the finish line and started my second lap. About 500m after the start of the second lap, I spotted Emily heading towards the turnaround point of the first lap near the finish chute and cheered her on. Every so often I glanced down at my watch to check my pace and heart rate, but I felt that my 4:45/km pace was as fast as I could manage for 10k at that moment in time. I felt like the 3 hills were slightly less awful the second time around, perhaps because I knew what to expect. At the top of the first and steepest hill, Christine and Christian were cheering every Canadian athlete and I gave Christine a solid high five, which was unbeknownst to me, captured on video and part of the Triathlon Canada video! Check out how much I was trying to hide my suffering at 1:23.

Around 8k, I slightly increased my pace to 4:25 to 4:40/km and hoped that the energy and excitement of the spectators would push me to maintain or increase my speed. I continued to throw water on my face at every aid station, including the final one I passed about 800m from the finish line. A few hundred metres from the finish line, I ran around the final turnaround before entering the finish chute and I realized there was a woman from Mexico who was potentially in my age group about 10m behind me. I accelerated past an older male athlete who was still on his first lap and made a sharp left turn into the finish chute and started “turning on the jets!”, as Emily’s husband was apparently cheering at me at that exact moment. She caught up to me and we sprinted head-to-head for the finish line. She took off ahead of me, crossing the finish line 0.6 seconds ahead of me. I just didn’t have that extra gear to turn it over the finish line. Nevertheless, I celebrated as I crossed the big blue ITU archway and threw my arms up in the air. My competitor immediately bent over in exhaustion; I patted her on the back and we shared a congratulatory hug.

Givin’ er all I had left in the tank on the way to the finish line

I remained in the post-finish area and within a few short minutes, I cheered on my best friend as she approached the finish chute and gave her a sweaty, happy hug as we congratulated each other on an incredible race.

I was overjoyed to have competed in a world championship race with my best friend halfway across the world

Of course Emily found a dog to pet
Post race commute

Canadian paratriathletes Jessica Tuomela & guide Marianne Hogan, Jon Dunkerley & guide James Cook

Final Thoughts

Traveling overseas to a destination race requires so much planning, preparation and adaptation to a new environment. Traveling with your own bike is stressful but definitely the most economical way of cycling for multiple days in Europe. In the weeks leading up to the race, I had compulsively laid out all my clothing and equipment to ensure I didn’t forget anything. I also packed my regular race day nutrition, including nut butter, nuun tablets, Gatorade and Clif bloks. Upon arrival in Switzerland, it took a few days to adjust to the 6-hour time difference from Toronto and I was happy to have arrived there 4 days before the race. To ease jet lag, I completed short, easy training sessions every day, avoided alcohol and ate healthy whenever I could – this included convincing Emily to join me on a 45-minute hunt for a bag of salad at a grocery store.

I finished 29th out of 91 athletes in my age group, and was the top Canadian out of 7 in my age group. Overall, I was happy with my performance at this race, particularly remaining calm in a choppy, non-wetsuit swim amongst strong swimmers and my bike handling and estimated power output on a technical, challenging course. My coach and I were primarily focused on my performance at Ironman Canada in late July, which meant that I had done little to no speed work on the bike or run since mid-July. I feel that my 10k run speed has a lot of room for improvement and I hope to build run strength, power and speed throughout the upcoming off-season. As previously mentioned, I need to work on reducing my transition times and I would like to learn how to safely perform a flying mount onto my bike in 2020.

August 12, 2019August 12, 2019

Ironman Canada 2019

Pre-Race

This was the final and seventh year of Ironman Canada being held in the beautiful resort town of Whistler, BC, before it returns to Penticton in 2020. According to the Ironman website, Ironman Canada was the first Ironman race established outside of Hawaii in 1983 and was hosted by Penticton every year until it moved to Whistler in 2013. Rod and I have only been to Whistler – twice – during the winter and it’s a special place for us because it was our first ski trip as a couple. Now that we have officially moved from Ontario to Nanaimo, it is a welcome change to be able to drive there in only a few hours, including a short ferry ride. It’s also a noteworthy event because it’s my first full Ironman race. Last August, I registered Rod and I for the full Ironman after a brief conversation; he was unpleasantly surprised after receiving an email that said, “Congratulations! You are now registered for the Subaru 2019 IRONMAN Canada!”, as he thought that I was signing him up for the half Ironman distance (Ironman Canada offers a 70.3 race on the same day as the full). My best friend and long-distance training partner, Emily, along with her husband, were also competing in their first full Ironman in Lake Placid on the exact same day as our race. Although I was sad that we weren’t doing the race together, we would be swimming, biking and running the exact same distances, only three time zones apart and in different countries.

Ferry ride from Nanaimo to Horseshoe Bay

Friday, July 26th

Rod and I woke up just after 5 am to finish packing before catching the ferry. After a high-calorie breakfast, we left shortly before 8 am to ensure we made it on the 8:45 am ferry. (Side note: If you are traveling with a vehicle via BC Ferries in the summer, always make a reservation, even if you’re not traveling on a weekend or holiday. It only costs $10/trip if you make your reservation at least 7 days before you travel and can save you a boatload of time and headache.) It was a gorgeous, warm summer day and a few degrees hotter on mainland compared to Vancouver Island, where there is always a pleasant breeze.

We drove directly to picturesque Rainbow Park for an easy, 20-minute swim in Alta Lake. The water was noticeably colder (probably 20 degrees Celcius) and choppier than Westwood Lake, where we have done 90% of our open water swimming and I appreciated having a wetsuit. After our swim, we drove to Whistler Village and ran into our coach, Melanie McQuaid, on the main street. Rod and I attended the pre-race briefing at 2 pm, then met up with our MelRad Racing team for a group photo in front of the Whistler Olympic rings. Mel encouraged us to walk around with a water bottle glued to our hands and to spend as much time with our legs up, lying around in our Airbnb’s before the race. After we completed athlete check-in in the Village, I stopped by the Brava tent to chat with one of the co-founders, Stephanie, who I met at Victoria 70.3 and was surprised to realize that she remembered me! I purchased a pair of rad Oakley sunglasses and stocked up on more First Endurance Canada EFS Liquid Shots. As I had already “packed the fridge” in Rod’s truck, we only needed to buy ice cream and apple pie before checking into our Airbnb in Creekside. For dinner, we ate leftover salmon and steak (surf ‘n turf!), roasted potatoes, salad and dessert.

MelRad Olympic Rings — MelRad squad in Whistler Village

Saturday, July 27th

Rod and I woke up around 7 am and enjoyed a lazy, relaxing morning as it had rained overnight and the roads were too wet to go out and ride first thing. Our coach had advised us to eat simple, easy-to-digest, white carbohydrates and avoid high-fibre foods and vegetables for two days leading up to the race. For those who know me, this was a huge shift from my whole grain, high-veggie diet, but I trusted that Mel knows best. We finally got rolling around noon and did an easy 30-minute ride up Highway 99 to Alpine Road and back, which would be the northern turnaround point of the bike course, followed by a 15-minute run with a few strides from our place in Creekside.

Pre-race bike ride along Sea-to-Sky Highway

Post bike ride
Bike racked & ready to rock
One of many bears in Whistler

We devoured tuna sandwiches and watermelon for lunch, then headed over to Whistler Village. Ironman Canada had two transition zones – Transition 1 was located in a grassy area of Rainbow Park by Alta Lake and Transition 2 was in a parking lot in Whistler Village. This was the first race I’ve done where we had two different transition zones, which made it crucial to plan out exactly what clothing, shoes and nutrition to put in each gear bag. I took photos of what I had placed in my bike gear and run gear bags on Saturday to ease my anxiety about forgetting something later on that day. Around 2:30 pm, Rod and I leisurely cycled over to Rainbow Park with a huge group of triathletes; I racked my bike in T1, let a bit of air out of my tires and dropped off my bike gear bags. We hopped on the shuttle (school) bus back to Whistler, dropped our run gear bags off in T2 and wandered around the Village. We returned to our Airbnb to relax and organize our race gear. I laid out my nutrition, opened the Gatorade bottles (froze 2 of them for Bike Special Needs bag), cut up my Snickers bar into 5 small equal pieces and put it in the fridge. As per Mel, we ate dinner at 5 pm: white pasta with homemade turkey meatballs and a small portion of dessert. I FaceTimed with Emily to wish her good luck and shared some nervous laughs before she went to bed three time zones away. To ease our nerves, I convinced Rod to watch the Bachelorette: The Men Tell All episode; I read for a bit and dry needled my lower legs before going to bed at 9:30 pm.

Sunday, July 28th

Race Morning

I fell asleep surprisingly quickly and woke up at 2:50 am, 10 minutes before my alarm went off. I had butterflies in my stomach and I thought immediately of Emily and my MelRad teammate, Jason P., who would be starting their 3.8k swim in Mirror Lake in Lake Placid any minute. Rod and I each ate 3 pieces of French toast, topped with maple syrup, sunflower seed butter for me, strawberries and bananas for breakfast. At 4:10 am, we left the Airbnb and managed to snag a perfect parking spot in Whistler Village, where it was thankfully too early to pay for parking. We dropped off our Bike and Run Special Needs bags, added nutrition to the run gear bag (we weren’t allowed to put any food in it the night before due to the risk of attracting bears), made a porta potty stop and hopped on the shuttle bus to Rainbow Park just after 4:30 am. The bus took the long way around, as Alpine Road was probably already closed for the race. We arrived at Rainbow Park around 5 am; Rod and I took advantage of using the park washrooms with luxurious flush toilets before the short walk down to T1. The sun was just starting to rise and it was only 10 degrees Celcius but at least there was no wind. There was a stunning mist on the calm lake surface with dramatic snow-capped mountains in every direction. I felt very fortunate to live so close to such an incredible place and to call British Columbia my new home.

Rod and I usually lose each other before the start of every triathlon, but we set a meeting spot before we went off to set up our bike nutrition. I pumped up my tires to 100 psi, toweled off my bike seat, handlebars and frame and set up my nutrition – water in torpedo bottle, 2 Gatorade bottles with extra Gu Roctane electrolytes, Clif Bloks x 6½ sleeves (39 bloks total) and portioned Snickers bar. I met Rod at the bike gear bag area around 5:30 am, put on my wetsuit, ate 3 Clif bloks and realized that I didn’t have time for a run or swim warm-up as suggested by my coach. We dropped off our Morning Clothes bag and walked over to the “60-70 Minutes” time sign at the swim start area. I gave one of our MelRad teammates, Sonja, a hug and wished her a good race as she made her way through the crowd towards the “50-60 Minutes” swim group. (Side note: It seems like most Ironman races these days are shifting to a rolling swim start, which means that athlete seed themselves based on their predicted swim time and 4-5 athletes are sent off every 5 seconds. In my experience, this makes for a much safer and less congested swim start compared to a mass start.) Ironman staff closed the transition zone, which unfortunately meant I lost the opportunity to empty my bladder one last time in a porta potty.

Our meeting spot at the bike gear bag area

3.8 km Swim
Time: 1:04:48
Pace: 1:40/100m
Division Rank: 7/38
Gender Rank: 30/272

Swim start – photograph by David McColm (https://triathlonmagazine.ca/news/heather-wurtele-is-victorious-at-ironman-canada/)

At 5:50 am, the gun went off and the female pros started their race. Shortly after, someone sang O Canada and the self-seeded sub 50minute age groupers started around 6 am, loud pump-up music playing over the speakers. Rod and I remained side by side, our feet freezing on the cold, dewy grass, until it was our turn to wait for the dreaded beep that indicated the official start of what would be a very long day. I sprinted into the water from the beach and dove in when it was just above my knees and started swimming. I tried to swim at what felt like 90% effort for the first 100m or so, keeping my turnover as high as I could. I eased into a comfortable but steady, deliberate pace with high turnover (for me), somewhere between 68 and 76 rpm. I was surprised at how relaxed I felt in the water and I attributed this to doing at least one open water swim per week since late May. It was relatively easy to sight for the first lap; I tried to stay on other swimmers’ feet or hips until I felt 100% confident that I could pass them. I was pleased to notice that I was passing more people than I was getting passed, which surprised me as I hoped that I would swim close to 1h10m.

After rounding the last turn buoy that marked the end of the first lap (thankfully we didn’t have to exit and re-enter the water between laps), I checked in with myself and realized that I felt strong and could push the pace during the second lap. I definitely swam more off-course during the second loop. The course became more congested and choppier with added swimmers who had just started their first lap. As soon as I noticed that I had swam off-course, I accelerated to “make up” for lost time then settled back into a good rhythm once I was back on course. The sun started to rise over the mountains and blinded my right field of vision during the long straightaway on the second lap. It was difficult to sight the exit point out of the water; I was unsure when we had to change course and whether to swim off towards shore at the 3rd or 4th buoy. I tried to swim on some guy’s feet for the last 500 to 600m, rounded the last turn buoy, passed him and tried to accelerate for the last few hundred metres.

Out of the water, I glanced down at my watch and was shocked to see I was just under 1h5m. In my daze, I stupidly forgot to unzip the top half of my wetsuit and stumbled over the timing mat towards the wetsuit strippers. Thankfully, the volunteers helped me remove my wetsuit quickly and I lay down on the ground so they could pull it off my legs. I grabbed my Bike Gear bag and ran into the women’s change tent, where a very helpful volunteer emptied my bike gear bag for me. I towel dried my feet, put on socks, bike shoes, helmet, cycling gloves and my new sunglasses; the volunteer helped me put my Brava jersey on. I opted not to put sunscreen on because I was soaking wet – sorry Mom! I ran out of the change tent and almost wiped out into the porta potty, where I made a quick stop before grabbing my bike off the rack and exiting T1.

T1 Time: 4:32

180 km Bike
Time: 5:49:22
Avg Speed: 30.9 km/h
Division Rank: 4/38
Gender Rank: 23/272

This year’s revamped bike course consisted of two challenging, scenic loops. The route went from Alta Lake to the top of Whistler Olympic Park in the Callaghan Valley, then south down Highway 99, with gorgeous views of Black Tusk and nearby mountain ranges, before returning to Whistler to mark the beginning of the second loop. The southbound lane on the Highway 99 was closed to traffic and northbound vehicles were restricted to driving 60 km/h on one northbound lane only, which meant that athletes were given an entire traffic lane in both directions.

During the ride, I focused on three main things: 1) maintaining a steady, deliberate effort; 2) sticking to my nutrition plan, which meant eating and drinking more than I felt like I needed at the time, and 3) trying to remain as aerodynamic as possible by tucking my chin, looking down between my aerobars and periodically glancing back up at the road to ensure I wasn’t going to hit anything. Psychologically, I broke the bike down into 2 x 90 km rides to make the distance less daunting.

According to my Garmin bike computer, it was a chilly 6 to 8 degrees Celcius for the first part of the ride. It was still pretty early in the morning and most of the route early on was in the shade, but compared to Lake Placid 70.3 in 2018, you could tell it was going to warm up and it was too warm for me to wear sleeves or a vest. I rode cautiously from Rainbow Park out to Highway 99 while focusing on getting my heart rate down from 155 bpm and ingesting plenty of fluids and food from the start. After turning right onto Highway 99, I settled into a good rhythm and focused on maintaining a deliberate pace, but not pushing too hard and not spinning too quickly. I didn’t have my cadence reading in front of me, but I felt like I was pedalling around 80 rpm. I had so much energy riding past Lorimer Road and Whistler Village – I felt like I was given bonus cheering (especially from fellow women) as I guessed that I was probably one of the first 50 women out on the course.

After 22 km (~37 min), I arrived at the bottom of Callahan Valley and began the dreaded 12.4 km climb; I vaguely remembered driving up to Whistler Olympic Park with Rod back in March, but there were high snowbanks on both sides of the road and I was more amazed at the beautiful vistas, rather than trying to memorize the undulations of the road. My legs were excited to rise to the challenge of ascending Callaghan Valley and I definitely prefer hilly bike courses over flat and fast courses. I maintained what felt like a moderately hard intensity the entire way up and kept my heart rate below 155 bpm. I was pleasantly surprised to realize that the road was rolling, not an unrelenting, steep uphill climb the entire way; it felt easier than doing hill repeats up Observatory Hill in Saanich. As I was climbing, I noticed that athletes who were descending had to use their brakes for short sections, and I reminded myself to get out of my aerobars as I was descending if I wasn’t sure about a particular turn in the road.

After the turnaround at the Biathlon Range, I popped my second small piece of Snickers in my mouth and chased it down with water as I began the exhilarating descent down Callaghan Valley. I was definitely cautious the first time descending, but I figured it was better to sacrifice a few seconds than to end my race with a devastating crash from being too brazen. There was an unexpected, dangerous dip in the road just before the bridge on the bottom half where I rode over and my whole bike kind of jolted but I luckily didn’t lose anything. There were several water bottles on the right side of the road and on the shoulder as if numerous athletes had also hit the treacherous dip. (Side note: I later found out that one of my teammates lost a water bottle at this exact same spot.)

The next section back on Highway 99 was quite fun, as it continued to descend south until reaching 58k at the turnaround at 1h49m. Within 2 to 3 km after the turnaround, Rod rode past me heading southbound and I used this as motivation to try to maintain my lead on him. It was steady but manageable climbing heading northbound back to Whistler; the first lap of the course was relatively lonely compared to the second lap because the 70.3 race hadn’t started until at least 7 am. One of my MelRad Racing teammates, Alison, was our team’s self-proclaimed, non-racing cheerleader. She cheered for me as I rode past her near the Village; it was awesome to see her and I felt a surge of energy after she cheered my name. At 88k, I stopped at the Bike Special Needs station to swap Gatorade bottles for my half-defrosted ones and for a quick porta potty break. Rod had caught up to me and we rode together (with a minimum of 6 bike lengths apart) for another 20 to 25k up Callaghan Valley, where I overtook him about 75% of the way to the top and remained ahead of him for the rest of the ride. At the aid station right before the top of Callaghan, I grabbed a water bottle and squeezed as much of it into my front torpedo bottle as I could – this was the one and only aid station I used during the ride. I reached the top of the Callaghan Valley section at 3h59m and grabbed another piece of Snickers to digest while I descended more aggressively than my first lap. I think I only got out of my aerobars a couple of times while descending and I was grateful for the bright orange tape marking the dangerous dip in the road and the volunteer that was directing us to ride close to the median.

Rod about to pass me after the Special Needs station

Back on Highway 99, I found myself getting irritated by: 1) my new Garmin Vector 3 power meter pedals (borrowed from Rod) not reading my power output accurately and 2) other athletes around me not abiding by the legal draft zone. I reminded myself that I was probably hungry and/or dehydrated so I continued to eat Clif Bloks and alternate water and Gatorade. By that time, the air temperature had risen into the low to mid 20s and I could feel the sun beating down on me. Thankfully, there were several 70.3 athletes still out on the bike course and I gained confidence with each one that I passed; I was happy to see them because it gave me something to focus on other than the painful chafing that was occurring on the lower half of my body. I was also grateful for the tailwind that assisted me back up to Whistler. I finished the last section of the ride on a strong note heading back into Whistler and made sure to conserve a bit of energy for the pending marathon I wasn’t thinking about but still had to run. Spectators welcomed us back into Creekside, then Whistler Village and it was a somewhat brief out-and-back to the same turnaround point at Alpine Road. I rode through the Special Needs area at the Meadow Park Sports Centre parking lot, headed back down Highway 99, made a sharp right turn towards the Whistler Golf Club, rode under the bridge and then zig-zagged multiple times before reaching the dismount line, where volunteers were waiting to grab our bikes. I had no idea how I would feel running off the bike, but I was definitely happy to be upright and off my saddle.

I ran in my bike shoes over to the Run Gear bag area, found my bag and dashed into the women’s change tent. I did a full outfit change into my MelRad Racing onesie, clipped on my race belt, threw on my hat, grabbed my EFS Liquid Shot nutrition, chugged a cup of water, made another porta potty stop and sacrificed 30 seconds to let three volunteers apply sunscreen to my exposed skin before running out of T2.

T2 Time = 7:15

Bike Nutrition:

250 kcal Snickers bar (cut in 5 small bites – 1 bite per hour from 0:00 to 5:00)
Clif bloks x 2 every 20 min with sips of water
4 x Gatorade bottles (591mL each) with added GU Roctane electrolytes

42.2 km Run
Time: 4:02:51
Pace: 9:16/mile or 5:48/km
Division Rank: 3/38
Gender Rank: 30/272

The full marathon distance run course was two laps entirely on the Valley Trail system, which was mostly pavement with a small out-and-back dirt/gravel section adjacent to Lost Lake, where Rod and I cross-country skied in the winter.

My plan was to strive for a 4-hour marathon, which meant that I would have to run 5:40/km for 42.2km. Similar to the bike, I decided to break the run into 4 x 10.5 km segments to make it more manageable in my head, since I had never run a full marathon before and I was about to attempt it after cycling 180km. In my mind, all I had to do was run 10.5 km in 60 minutes or less, and do that 4 times in a row. My plan was to walk all the aid stations during the first half of the race to unload my legs and ensure I was taking in adequate fluids; it would be a game time decision whether to walk the aid stations in the latter half of the run.

Coming off the bike, I was shocked at how fresh my legs felt – which was probably pure adrenaline – and I slowed myself down after realizing I was running 4:50/km out of the gate. The first full aid station was at the start of the Lost Lake trail, and I forced myself to walk the entire station from start to finish; I grabbed ice to dump in my trisuit and water to sip on/splash on my face – I continued this routine at every aid station thereafter. My legs felt pretty good leaving Whistler Village around 6k, especially after another refreshing walk break during the Red Bull/aid station, and hoped that my energy levels would remain high and my legs fresh for the rest of the run.

The temperature fluctuated between 25 and 30 degrees Celcius with minimal humidity; I needed to do whatever I could to keep my body temperature cool, so I held ice cubes in my hands until they melted, occasionally brushing one across my lips to keep them hydrated and cool. Around 8.5 km, all I wanted to do was jump into Green Lake and lounge on the giant unicorn floaty that was positioned within jumping distance from the bridge I was running over, with a cold, non-Gatorade beverage in my hand and transform into an Ironman spectator. Having only glanced at the run course map the night before the race, I had a vague idea of how far we had to run out along Green Lake, but I didn’t expect it to feel quite as far as it did. There was a slight but noticeable incline heading back after the northernmost turnaround and I began to pass mostly 70.3 athletes who were walking up the small hill along Green Lake.

By 20k, I had made my way back to Whistler Village and Alison cheered me on, telling me that I looked strong, even though my energy levels were not as high anymore. I reached 21.1k at 1h59m and realized that I needed to maintain the exact same pace (or faster) for the back half of the race in order to achieve my sub 4h marathon goal. Despite the fact that Mel had told me I could run the aid stations in the second half, I liked the brief walking break every 3 to 4 km, so I decided to continue to walk the aid stations for the rest of the race, unless I felt super strong in the last 5 km. After the Lost Lake turnaround, I ran into Sonja and we cheered each other on. Around 24k, I finished my first EFS Liquid Shot flask and grabbed my spare socks, Ventolin puffer and a full EFS Liquid Shot from my Run Special Needs bag. The volunteers were so efficient that I didn’t even have to stop running! My feet were definitely sweaty and rubbing in my shoes, but not so sore that I considered stopping to change my socks. I shoved the socks, along with my puffer and flask, in my rear pocket and kept trucking along.

When I ran through Whistler Village at 25 to 26k before heading out to Green Lake on the second lap, Alison caught up to me, ran alongside me for a moment and said, “It’s going to get really hard, then it will get easy again. Your body can do this, it’s all about your mind.” Those words were precisely what I needed. I was told that the Ironman truly begins at the last 10k, so my mantra became, “When the going gets tough, the tough get going.” I was not by any means the most fit athlete out there on the course, but I felt that I had done a large amount of psychologically hard training that prepared me for this day.

I was surprised that I didn’t feel the need to pee at any point during the run, as I felt like I was drinking a good amount of water. Around 30k, I felt my paraspinal muscles in my lower back threatening to spasm and I focused on achieving a neutral spine and engaging my core – this magically seemed to help (the benefits of being a physio?) and the threat quickly disappeared. Beyond 32k, I found it increasingly difficult to pick up my legs and drive my knee ahead of me and I yearned for the Village crowds to welcome me to the finish line. I also started to feel mildly nauseous and had trouble focusing on spectators’ faces, almost as if I was dizzy. I forced myself to smile and focused on counting down the kilometres that were left for me to run, rather than ruminating on how tired and heavy my legs were, and that they felt like they were on the verge of cramping if I picked up the paced – I had gone from steady running and frequent fuelling to survival mode. At the aid station at 33 to 34k, I started asking for Coke at the aid stations in lieu of my EFS Liquid Shot and drank 1 small cup at each station thereafter; I continued to grab ice and hold onto ice cubes in my hands and I noticed that this was effective at keeping my heart rate down. I skipped the final aid station at 40k because whatever I ingested would not benefit me within the subsequent 10 to 12 minutes. I tried to pick up my pace to achieve my sub 4h marathon goal, but I soon realized that it wasn’t going to happen this time around.

Feeling elated running down the finish chute

As I rounded the corner towards the finish line, I realized there was yet another out-and-back segment that I had to run; as I accelerated around several 90-degree turns, I felt my diaphragm threatening to give me a stitch and I dug my hand under my ribcage and massaged the deep muscle. It was as if my core was too fatigued to help stabilize my body for sharp turns at this point. I was so excited and relieved to actually be running down the finish chute that I no longer cared that it had taken me over 4 hours to run the marathon; I felt exhausted but so happy to finally stop moving forward. My time was 11:08:48, much faster than my goal time of 12 hours. Alison had somehow managed to sneak into the finish area and gave me a congratulatory hug, asked me how I was feeling and told me that I was 3rd in my age group – I was shocked but so happy! She encouraged me to walk around a bit (even though all I wanted to do was lie down) and I felt like I no longer knew how to put one foot in front of the other.

Run Nutrition:

2 x First Endurance Canada EFS Liquid Shot (Kona Mocha & Vanilla)
Water and ice at every aid station
Coke from 34k onwards (I stopped ingesting EFS Liquid Shots)

Post Race

I took Alison’s advice and walked around the finish area on my wobbly legs. I managed to meet up with a childhood boating friend from Ontario who I hadn’t seen in over 10 years, who had recently moved to Kelowna! After finishing her first 70.3 distance race a few hours earlier, she returned to the finish line to cheer athletes down the finish chute. I chatted with her and her friend for a few minutes, then ventured over to the Village to grab some post-race pizza, fries, pretzels and Coke to prevent myself from feeling nauseous, as I often do when I don’t eat soon enough after exercise. Alison figured that Rod would still be out on the course for at least another hour after me, so I picked up my bike and gear bags from T2, loaded my bike into Rod’s truck, changed out of my disgusting, salt-stained onesie and returned to see Rod sprint across the finish line at 12:28:37.

We celebrated with burgers and beer at the Garibaldi Lift Company at the base of Whistler Mountain, and we were joined by Alison, Jason S., Mel and Mike until after 10 pm. On our slow and painful walk back to the truck, Rod and I stopped to cheer a few final finishers down the finish chute and were amazed at the number of spectators and volunteers still cheering. By the time we returned to our Airbnb, it was after 10:30 pm and we were both exhausted. My heart felt like it was pounding out of my chest and my whole body was warm, probably from 11+ hours of physical exertion and a day’s worth of sun exposure. I don’t think I have ever been that exhausted but so relieved that we both successfully completed our first Ironman.

So many delicious baked treats
Perfect place to replenish glycogen stores

The next morning, our MelRad squad met at Purebread for delicious baked goods and caffeinated beverages before the awards ceremony. I went up on stage to accept my 3^rd place award for women 30 to 34. Rod and I stuck around with 2 of our teammates to see if I could snag a Kona slot at the World Championship Slot Allocation and Rolldown; unfortunately, there was only one spot for my age group and I wasn’t able to get ahold of it.

Ironman Canada finisher medal, 3rd place award & Majestic Challenge finisher medal

Reflection

I’m really pleased with my first full Ironman performance. In terms of my swim, I’m happy with my time but I know that I could have swam even faster had I sighted more frequently and remained on-course (my Garmin thinks I swam an extra 130m). I want to work on increasing my turnover over the next year. I need to figure out a routine where I can have a last-minute porta potty stop and/or do a warm-up swim so I can start the race with an empty bladder! I’m satisfied with my ride and I realize that I could have saved 2 to 3 minutes if I hadn’t stopped at the Special Needs station. However, I’m not a huge fan of BASE Hydro (I never used it in training) and I really needed to empty my bladder at that perfectly situated porta potty. My legs definitely felt better after riding with a cadence of 80 rpm as opposed to the 90 rpm that I raced with at Victoria 70.3. I know I shouldn’t be too critical of my first marathon, but I should have been able to run a sub 4h marathon and I think my running is the discipline that I need to work on the most in the next year. My left hamstring felt super tired and tight towards the last 8 to 10k, but I was pleasantly surprised to not feel pain in my right lateral knee, as that was really bothering me back in April and May. I think it was smart to stick to the ‘walk the aid station’ plan for the entire run because it helped me break down the distance into smaller, more achievable segments and gave my body a bit of a break.

I am so grateful for the physical and psychological preparation and constant support from my coach, Mel McQuaid. I have learned so much since we started working together in December 2018. Throughout the winter, she essentially taught me how to swim with proper technique, which has been my weakest discipline over the past decade in the sport. I am incredibly thankful for my husband, Rod, who joined me for countless workouts (including our high-volume training trip to Maui), endured my obsessive need to stick exactly to the workouts and tolerated my occasional, hunger-induced post-workout crankiness, regardless of how sleep-deprived he was. Lastly, thank you to my fellow MelRad teammates who answered all my silly logistical questions, cheered for me and high-fived me on the run course and put up with my whining during tough group training sessions. Although triathlon is an individual sport, I truly believe that we can each perform better with the support of a group!