Swimming in the Mediterranean, racing in Nice & sprinting to the finish in Lausanne (left to right)
With those big races behind me, I took a much-needed break from structured training from September to December 2019. My weekly training volume dropped to 6-10 hours/week and included a mix of swimming, cycling, trail running, hiking and strength training. I participated in a couple of running races with my MelRad teammates, including the Thetis Lake 20k Relay and the Bear Mountain 10k (Canada’s hardest 10k!).
Taking a step back from heavy training to hang out with friends & do some fun races
Ever since I can remember, I have always wanted to be a mother. I knew that pregnancy and motherhood would bring new challenges in terms of my triathlon training and racing, but I realized that I wanted to shift my focus from racing to starting a family in late 2019.
Playing with my dolls & pretending to be a “mommy”
Before we started trying to get pregnant, I saw my family doctor and had bloodwork done to check my iron, thyroid and CBC levels. Not surprisingly as a female endurance athlete, my iron was low and I started taking a daily iron supplement.
First Trimester
In January 2020, I found out that I was early into my pregnancy and experienced a whirlwind of emotions. I was ecstatic about having a baby, paranoid that something was going to go wrong and anxious about the years of parenting responsibilities that lay ahead. From 6 to 12 weeks pregnant, I constantly felt nauseous, fatigued and short of breath when exerting myself. This was my least favourite time during the whole pregnancy. I remember thinking that it would be nice to have morning sickness, as my nausea was worse in the morning but lasted all day long. Regarding the nausea, my family doctor advised me to stop taking my prenatal vitamin and iron supplement and to take vitamin B6 and folic acid instead, which immediately helped. I ate frequent, small snacks during the day and indulged my salty, high-carbohydrate cravings and pickled foods: pickles, tomato juice and sauerkraut. My only food aversions were coffee, vegetables and the scent of red wine, all of which I normally love.
Feeling awful during the 1st trimester
During this time, my motivation for exercising shifted from an athlete’s competitive mindset to maintaining my physical and mental health. I had no idea what to expect or how this pregnancy would affect my training and athletic goals, but looked to my family doctor and coach for training advice. My family doctor labelled me as an “elite athlete” and encouraged me to continue with my training, without any specific guidelines or restrictions.
I shared with my coach, Melanie McQuaid, early on that I was pregnant and she adjusted my training program according to how I was feeling each week. My biggest fear was that I was going to lose all my fitness that I had worked so hard to achieve over the past year. Mel reassured me that pregnancy would be a temporary phase in my life and that many pro athletes returned to sport even stronger and more fit after pregnancy. She likened being pregnant to training with a weight vest on at all times; this analogy comforted me when I felt slow, tired and heavy during many workouts throughout my pregnancy.
During my first trimester, I managed to train 9-12 hours/week. Swimming felt the best, followed by strength training, biking and running. Our local pool is relatively cool, so swimming felt refreshing and woke me up. From the middle to the end of my first trimester, I experienced urinary urgency. Luckily, I do most of my running in a local trail system and could “pop a squat” without risk of indecent exposure. I could only run at an easy pace, and occasionally felt dizzy or short of breath when pushing the pace or running uphill. I enjoyed overgear intervals on the bike, because it was too uncomfortable to get my heart rate up for high cadence work. For a few weeks, the only time I didn’t feel nauseous was when I was exercising! I often needed to nap after work, which is very abnormal for me. I felt physically and mentally exhausted by 8:30-9pm every night, as though someone had given me a NyQuil. In mid-February, my husband and I spent a week skiing in Whistler with my best friend from Ontario and her husband. It felt awesome to be outside all day, to be constantly moving with fresh air blowing in my face.
Ski holiday in Whistler, BC at 2 months pregnant
Second Trimester
At 13 weeks, we breathed a small sigh of relief to have made it through the first trimester. We shared our pregnancy news with our families and closest friends first, then with our colleagues a few weeks later. Everyone was so excited to hear our great news!
Hiking up Mt Benson at 3 months pregnant
During my second trimester, I trained 10-20 hours/week. I was uncomfortable cycling above a heart rate of 130 bpm for long periods of time due to feeling short of breath. I had a lot of urgency and often had to pee after running for 20 minutes. I spoke with my friend (a pelvic floor physiotherapist) during a bike ride and she advised me to relax my deep core muscles and focus on diaphragmatic breathing while exercising. She said that most pregnant athletes tend to have an overactive, tight transversus abdominis that increases pressure on the bladder. This strategy immediately helped my urge to pee! She also advised me to focus less on core strengthening and more on gluteal strengthening, due to the pelvic changes that occur throughout pregnancy and difficulty activating those muscles postpartum.
Maternity photography by Cecile Vittoria at 5 months pregnant
As the weeks went by, my energy levels slowly increased and I experienced little to no nausea. Due to the spring 2020 COVID-19 lockdown in BC (mid-March to mid-May), I was only working a few half-days per week from home offering physiotherapy via telehealth. Rod and I had time to do a ton of cycling and explored around Vancouver Island. When my bump grew too large for my own cycling jerseys, I rotated between two of Rod’s jerseys and seriously stretched out two of my own pairs of cycling shorts.
Since I was unable to race in 2020 (both due to COVID-19 restrictions and being pregnant), I told my coach that I wanted a physical challenge to reassure myself that I was still strong and to mentally prepare myself for my upcoming endurance event: labour and childbirth. In early May (21 ½ weeks), Rod and I did a 3-hour bike ride from Courtenay up Mount Washington, our local ski hill. When we finally started riding at 11:30am, it was already 25°C. Even before getting pregnant, I preferred exercising in cooler temperatures and this was only amplified during pregnancy. I worried that I would overheat or get dehydrated, and I promised myself that I would stop or slow down if I felt unwell or too exhausted.
After a 30-minute warm-up, we began steadily climbing up the paved road leading to Mount Washington. My plan was to ride around 170-180W, depending on how I felt. With my 10-12 lb weight gain, I had to push 200-220W just to get up the 13-15% grade section at the bottom of the climb! I was sweating profusely after 15 minutes of climbing and was worried I would overheat, but I felt a bit better once the grade eased and we felt the odd breeze. It actually felt great to physically suffer again and push myself after not having raced since September 2019! I didn’t take any rest breaks at all, just kept riding steady and tried to keep a steady output the whole climb. It took me just over 90 minutes to ride up the 18 km main segment with 1100m of elevation gain, with an average power output of 190W and average heart rate of 147 bpm (check out my detailed ride here!). After a quick snack, pee break and photo op at the top, we carefully descended back down. I had to remind myself that I was carrying a baby in front of my body, so I slowed down a bit, but still felt comfortable descending up to 65 km/h as long as the road was smooth and clear. I was convinced that I was prepared for labour.
Mt Washington bike challenge with Rod at 5 months pregnant
On May 10th, I met a couple of my MelRad teammates at nearby Fuller Lake for our first open water swim of the season. The water had warmed up enough to brave the cold with my snug-fitting wetsuit and I returned to swimming after an 8-week hiatus due to the COVID-19 pool closures. I felt like a fish out of water for the first couple hundred meters and had to adapt to a new body position in the water. Nevertheless, I had a newfound appreciation for the water and it felt amazing to be swimming again.
First open water swim of 2020 with MelRad teammates at 5 months pregnant
Around 20 weeks, I started experiencing some reflux when exercising too soon after eating and was forced to exercise after fasting for a few hours. At 25 weeks, Rod and I brought home Bear, an adorable 13-week-old Australian Shepherd puppy. Thankfully, he slept through the night from day one! He was a perfect addition to our growing family and a distraction from pregnancy-related discomfort.
Bear, our adorable Australian shepherd
Third Trimester
During my third trimester, I trained 9-13 hours/week of a combination of hiking, swimming, strength training, road cycling and running. I loved swimming while pregnant and frequently swam laps around Westwood Lake, a gorgeous nearby lake. I continued to ride my bike during the third trimester. I swapped out the stem on my bike for one on a 30° angle to keep me more upright, which made room for my growing belly and made it easier to breathe. I also enjoyed lifting weights twice per week, as I wanted to maintain as much muscle mass as possible; my favourite circuit was 3-4 rounds of: Romanian deadlifts, goblet squats, lateral step-ups, bicep curls to overhead presses and suitcase carry.
Wearing the Upsie Bellly Bandit for running at 32 weeks
At 28 ½ weeks, I completed the BRAVA virtual triathlon challenge: an Olympic distance triathlon race over a 3-day weekend. I was selected as a BRAVA ambassador for 2020 (and 2021!) and wanted to complete it for fun. I had agreed to take it easy if I wasn’t feeling great during each activity. I was particularly happy with my 40 km ride, where I managed to maintain 190 W and an average heart rate of 143 bpm for an hour and 20 minutes on rolling terrain (there is nothing flat in Nanaimo!). I was pleasantly surprised that my power output was similar to that during a half Ironman; maybe I wasn’t losing as much fitness as I thought I was. I started wearing the Upsie Belly Bandit for running that weekend and it made a huge difference in relieving pressure off my bladder and helped compress my pelvis to give me a bit more support. My only regret is not starting to wear it earlier!
Continuing to swim, bike & run into my 3rd trimester
My reflux continued to worsen throughout my third trimester and I regularly took TUMS before exercising, which helped a great deal. I reluctantly made dietary changes, and avoided irritants such as ketchup, hot sauce, tomato sauce, excessive cheese, onions, garlic and sparkling water (my beverage of choice).
At 31 weeks, I started to feel mild pressure and heaviness inside my pelvis and my bladder felt super full when running downhill, but still felt good enough to continue running for a couple more weeks. At 33 weeks, I suddenly started to feel discomfort in my tailbone, glutes, hamstrings and calves when standing upright. It felt like the baby’s head was starting to put more pressure on my pelvic area and possibly impinging on my lower lumbar nerve roots. It was an easy decision to stop running and shift my focus to other activities. Unfortunately, hiking also became uncomfortable, as my lower back would hyperextend while hiking downhill and simultaneously holding Bear’s leash as he was pulling. Nonetheless, Bear needed at least an hour of walking every day so I endured to make sure he got a workout every day.
At 36 weeks, I started occasionally experiencing mild cramps or Braxton-Hicks contractions while swimming. They weren’t painful, but slightly uncomfortable as my entire belly would feel rigid for a few seconds. When swimming alone, I made sure to attach the My Float bag to my waist so I could rest and hang onto it if I needed a break. Much to Rod’s dismay, I continued to ride my bike outdoors up until 38 weeks, when I officially started my maternity leave. We don’t have air conditioning and I found myself easily overheating all throughout pregnancy, so I enjoyed the breeze and changing scenery of riding outdoors as opposed to riding on the trainer. I rode much more cautiously as the weeks progressed.
Bear & I were SAG crew for the MelRad Mt Washington challenge at 39 weeks pregnant
I managed to swim my usual 1600m loop in Westwood Lake up until 3 days before giving birth and did a moderately strenuous 90-minute hike and lifted weights while I was unknowingly in early labour the day before going to the hospital.
Staying active until the very end of my pregnancy kept me focused, happy & healthy
Being pregnant was an amazing, life-changing experience for me. It was the first time I have ever felt that I was not truly in control of my own body. As an athlete, you get accustomed to the direct impact of training on how your body feels and performs. During pregnancy, there were so many other factors (hormones, physiology, anatomy) that would affect how I felt on any given day. Training during pregnancy provided me with structure and routine (this was crucial for me during a pandemic!), a sense of purpose and an appreciation for what my body could do. I learned what it meant to truly listen to your body and not only respect, but admire the incredible changes that occur when you are growing a tiny human inside of you!
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 30th. On Saturday, August 31st, 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 1st, 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.
4 generations of Herterich’s
Best friends from high school
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
Our first dinner together in Lausanne
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
Parade of Nations – Team Canada
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 22o Celsius for age group athletes and 20o Celcius for elites, whereas Ironman regulations permit the use of wetsuits up to and including 24.5o Celcius.) Our husbands arrived on Saturday, August 31st, 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 23o 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
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.)
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.
Practicing my cornering skills
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 22o 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.
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.
Not excited for hills round #2
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
Celebrating across 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.
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 BaySea-to-Sky Highway
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.
Transition 1 next to Alta LakeMelRad 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
Rod & I in front of Alta LakeRace gear & nutrition
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
Pre-race breakfast at 3:30 am
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.
Arriving at Rainbow ParkSunrise on Alta Lake
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.
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.
In a daze coming out of the water
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.
Somewhere along the Sea-to-Sky Highway
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.
Bridge next to Green Lake
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.
Crossed the finish line at 11:08:48
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.
Rod & I at the finish lineCelebratory meal at GLC
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 3rd 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.
Top 5 women 30-34Ironman 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!
