I FUCKING DNF’d
Huge to witness and race in the first all women only IRONMAN World Championship in Kona. We made history!
For me, this was my first Kona and first time ever in Hawaii. A dream come true and one for which I’ve had to work so hard to get here. The island is a beauty and a beast, and I cannot wait to qualify for Kona again in order to experience the whole race.
I say whole race because, unfortunately, I came to Kona injured. Unable to run or walk the marathon. I followed my orthopedic doctor’s advice to end my race coming off the bike. I chose my long term health over crossing the most iconic holy grail finish line in the world of triathlon.
Was it hard? Fuck yeah! Extremely hard.
After finishing 18 half IRONMANs and 5 full IRONMANs, this was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in a race. Sure, I’ve had many moments in past races of wanting or wishing to DNF. But from the emotion to the action is a very far road. Having to tell a race official that I needed to DNF, crushed me to my core. You see, I am someone who never ever gives up. It goes against my own personal beliefs.
But ever since getting diagnosed 7 weeks before Kona with a rare degeneration of cartilage in my ankle joint, I’ve been searching for a reason or meaning or lesson from all this. What I learned from my experience, is that, in order to grow, we cannot be so attached to who we believe we are. We need to continuously be editing and unlearning our beliefs in order to elevate and expand our best version of who we can be!
The DNF was a gift. I now have a deeper understanding of my passion and who I want to be as a coach, athlete, and human. No finish line or medal could have ever given me this gift.
RACE RECAP
SWIM 2.4M/3.8K (TIME: 1:10)
Kona’s swim is a deep water mass start in Kailua Bay. You swim about 130 yards from shore to a staging area where paddlers circulate between two buoys, pushing all swimmers back on this imaginary start line.
It is hectic and crowded as you tread water waiting to start. Once the swim starts it is aggressive and congested, as to be expected from a World Championship race.
My age group, 45-49, was the last group to start at Kona and it didn’t take us long before we swam over the slower swimmers from the previous age group waves. The first caps I passed were silver (50-54), then purple (25-29), a couple of orange caps (18-24) and towards the end I hit a large pocket of green caps (40-44) and red caps (30-34) who had started 20 min prior to my age group wave.
The water temperature was comfortable at 81F (27C). Water conditions were choppy with waves. I felt super buoyant due to the salty ocean water. These are all my preferred open water conditions where my stroke excels. My average pace was 1:50 min/100m (1:40 min/100y).
I felt very comfortable throughout the swim. I felt strong and in control. I was even able to take in the beautiful view underneath me. But most of all, I felt so much pride for being exactly where I was at that given time.
I also got an IRONMAN swim PR 1:10hr, if I don’t count IRONMAN Cozumel that took me 59min since it’s a point to point swim assisted with the tide. Kona’s swim PR was achieved due to all my swim load I’ve done this year. But honestly, just toeing the start line was already an accomplishment worth celebrating since at some point swimming was all that I could do when I got diagnosed.
T1 TRANSITION FROM SWIM-TO-BIKE (TIME: 6:21)
Coming off the swim, there were showers lined up as you entered T1. I took a few seconds to rinse the salt water from my face before grabbing my bike bag. Since the outcome of this race was an inevitable DNF after the bike, I took my time in T1. I even applied sunblock and drank a bottle of water inside the changing tent.
BIKE 112M/190K (TIME: 6:25)
From the iconic lava fields to the spectacular blue coast line, Kona’s bike course literally takes your breath away! It’s magnificent and harsh all at the same time!
What makes this bike course challenging is the heat, humidity, head winds, cross winds, and the NEVER flat terrain. Total elevation gain is 5814 ft/ 1772m with an 18-mile climb to Hawi. The bike course can destroy many athletes’ dreams. You have to self-manage constantly, race without ego, and be patient.
There were portions where temps got above 100F due to the heat reflection from lava and the black asphalt. In such hot humid races, you lose glycogen faster which means you are losing more water from both transpiration and metabolic rate. Every race kit on course was covered in white residue from all the sodium loss. I kept grabbing water at every aid station to cool me down and to stay hydrated. Nailing your fuel plan and knowing your numbers for how much fluid, how much carbohydrates, and how much sodium per hour you needed is non-negotiable for an IRONMAN, especially a hot and humid IRONMAN.
If you get dehydrated, there is no turning back.
For me, the first half of the 112 miles felt mentally challenging due the head wind and the elevation gain. Nasty little combo. Once I reached the halfway point at Hawi, I felt relieved. I stopping at the special needs bag only to find out that my bag was not there. I waited a solid 5 minutes while the volunteer went back and forth looking for my bag. I then yelled “Aloha”, and told him I needed to keep moving forward.
Part of racing is knowing how to problem solve and stay persistent. Always have Plan B, C, and D for fueling as bike bottles can fly off your bike on bumps, gels can fall out of your pockets, sodium caps can drop out of your hands… the list goes on and on.
Riding back to Kona after the Hawi turnaround was my favorite part! We were rewarded with a long and fast descent. Riding my Pinarello back on the iconic Queen K Highway with all the other badass age groupers gave me so much pride. I felt like this day was meant for us women. It was everything that I had dreamed of and MORE!
Especially for me, since I only had 3 weeks to load my bike fitness for Kona, and prior to that it wasn’t certain whether I would even be able to ride at all in Kona. It was not a fast ride, but instead it was a once in a lifetime experience that I will NEVER forget.
T2 TRANSITION FROM BIKE-TO-RUN
Coming off the bike I felt extremely strong but the minute I dismounted my bike I felt my heel for the first time all day. I limped a little as I pushed my bike looking for a race official to DNF.
I was surprised how calm, collected, and neutral I felt when I told him. He asked if I needed medical attention. I said no and told him I have an injury that its keeping me from running. He told me to rack my bike, head to grab my running bag, and in the changing tents to look for another race official.
I racked my bike. I walked to grab my run bag. I entered the changing tent and looked for a race official. I told her exactly what I told the other official and all of a sudden, I broke down in tears.
She sat me down on a chair. I was still wearing my aero helmet, my cycling shoes and holding onto my run bag to dear life. She kindly questioned why I could not continue, and I told her that I have a degeneration of cartilage in the articulation of my ankle joint.
She looked at me through my helmet visor and told me, “You are doing the right thing”.
She then opened my run bag looking for my sneakers to help me out of my cycling shoes and she pulls out my flip flops. I told her, I needed to make my run bag bullet proof to DNF. We both started laughing. I got up and we both walked together to the medical tent where I handed over my timing chip. We hugged and she said “I wish I had your courage at your age to do what you are doing. I am 60 and no longer able to run due to chronic running injuries. You are young. You will be back”. She was my angel on this race day.
Doing the right thing takes courage and strength!
