My Journey to Ironman Part 4: I Got a Black Dog

Shortly after we got back from Cozumel, I became unemployed. I found out about it in September, worked until Oct 31st, had severance until Dec 31st. This impending job loss was the first domino in a series of “major life events” as an insurance company would say. I didn’t finish the Ironman. I was proposed to. I got remarried. We blended our family which meant we both doubled our family size. Two of the four kids are special needs which was a fairly new diagnosis so it was an adjustment for all of us. Eric moved in with us for a month after the wedding while we spent every spare minute trying to finish his small, 1500 sq ft house so the six of us could live there. Then we all moved into his place in Feb, without a finished second bathroom or a working kitchen. Also in Feb, Eric and I started new jobs. His was very stressful and required really long hours, making it almost impossible for him to train, and he was grumpy a lot. I discovered that while my new workplace and the people I worked with were great, along with amazing benefits, the job itself wasn’t a good fit for me. I developed depression - the black dog.

I was one of those people who naively thought that someone with depression could overcome it with enough hard work and/or spiritual help. This thought perpetuated a negative thought cycle that consumed me for most of the next three years. I couldn’t feel the same spiritual connection I’d taken for granted the previous few years. Depression convinced me I was unworthy of spiritual help. Because I hadn’t finished the Ironman, I thought I was too mentally weak to fight depression. I went through the motions of going to work, church, and taking care of our family. But I felt like I was almost constantly in a sludge-like blackness. It was a rare occasion when I felt any light or relief from the constant negative thoughts. I felt like I was in a small, dark box that I couldn’t break out of. Nothing good got in, and nothing bad left. I went to therapy. I tried medicine. Nothing helped. The only thing that brought any relief was exercising and racing. But even then, I had to be careful that I didn’t let it consume me or I’d become frustrated and down over what I thought was a lack in progress. Eric and I both reduced our training and racing in 2014. Then I knew I had to set a goal - if only to keep myself alive. My best friend had committed suicide in Feb 2011, and that thought was never far from my mind. I was scared of it. The darkness. The loss of power over my feelings and thoughts. I felt hopeless. It just never stopped. Take 10 steps back for mental toughness.

Rock Cliff 2015

In 2015, I made the goal to qualify for USA Triathlon Age Group Nationals, which would be held in Milwaukee Wisconsin. To do that, I had to place in the top 10% of my age group in a sprint or olympic distance race. If there were fewer than 10 people, I had to place first. It got be June, and I hadn’t qualified yet. I was running out of time. Depression was beating me down worse than ever. There was one race coming up - Rock Cliff. I hadn’t had problems when I’d done the sprint distance there in 2014. But, since I had so much riding on it in 2015, I was afraid something would go wrong. But, I signed up for the sprint, and headed up. I had to stop at a crude outhouse at Deer Creek on the way up - my stomach was going nuts! I told myself to just do my best and not worry about it. With my stomach up in arms, I didn’t have high hopes for a Nationals qualification. My kiddos came along, so they were a great support. The race couldn’t have gone better. When I crossed the finish line with a new PR, my son told me I was like the 6th woman across. I started getting a little excited… and sure enough, everyone in front of me was in a different USAT age group, placing me in 1st, and granting me that Nationals qualification! Yee haw! Huge step towards mental toughness!

Qualifying for Nationals put me on a mental high, the caliber of which I hadn’t felt since before I had depression. Around that time, I’d also had genetic testing done to determine which antidepressant might be most compatible with my body. I’d started the medication that was determined to be my “best match”. So I was feeling great. For about a week. Then on June 21st, Father’s Day, a trigger sent my emotions plunging. I’d prefer to not share all the details here, but I’d be more than willing to share in a private conversation. I will never forget how I felt that night though. I am describing it here to try and help people understand just how all-consuming and oppressing depression can be.

The darkness was crushing me. It felt like a dementor from Harry Potter was ready to suck the last bit of light from my soul. I felt powerless. And I was tired, so tired of the constant battles in my head. I just wanted it to stop. I really thought I might die. But I wanted to wake up the next morning with the depression all gone, like a bad headache. As the fog started lifting in the wee hours of the morning, I never wanted to feel that way again. But I was still scared. I had been doing SO good leading up to that day. I had no idea just how powerful a trigger could be. What if that happened to me again, and I couldn’t pull out of it? Not knowing what else to do, I got up as usual the next morning and went to work. I tried to pretend that nothing was wrong. I went about my meetings. I kept pushing forward, although the fog never completely lifted.

Fast forward to August 8th and USAT Nationals. I was in one of the last age group waves- which was brutal. Transition closed for everyone before the first wave, but the final groups were 1.5-2 hours after the first group. With around 200-ish people in each wave, they have to spread everyone out. The day was mostly overcast and humid. I didn’t mind since I’d grown up in NC. The excitement in the air plus the number of athletes - the best from around the country - reminded me of an Ironman event. It was such an honor to be there! My only goal was to enjoy every minute and try to get a new Olympic distance PR - sub-3 hours, which I’d never done in a non-river swim race. I had a fast swim, coming in a lot faster than I thought I would (remember when all I could do was blow bubbles 3 years before?). I averaged 18.6 mph on the bike, which was my fastest bike average ever in a race. Then I started out too fast on the run, making it hard for Eric and my dad to catch me to take pictures. I was just so excited to be there, I didn’t want to slow down. Then with about 2 miles left, I hit a wall. I had to stop and walk for a bit to catch my breath. Then I kept telling myself, no, you have to keep going, this is Nationals! I didn’t know what my total time was at that point, but Eric had been keeping track. When I got to the finish chute he started yelling at me to speed up so I could make it. Normally, I love sprinting down that shoot, and this race was no different. So, I gave it everything I had… and finished in 2:59:17! Take that depression! 1 step closer to mental toughness, although I was unhappy with my poor pacing on the run. I still had a 9:44 min/mile average which was good for me in an Oly distance tri.

Having hit my big goal for the year, I figured I’d just coast through the last few races of the season. At Camp Yuba in September, I was simply enjoying myself, knowing this was just for fun. When I got to the bike turnaround, I realized there were only 2 women in front of me! What?!  I’d never been in the overall top three before! I decided to turn up the heat a bit on the way back, and overtook the 2nd place woman. Unfortunately, that burned an extra match and she outran me. But I was completely surprised, amazed, and once again overjoyed crossing that finish line - in 3rd place overall in the sprint distance! Out of the top three, I had the 2nd fastest swim and the fastest bike split. Unfortunately, that cost me on the run. So again, even though I accomplished something awesome, I was disappointed in myself for not having a stronger run. Still, it was one step closer to mental toughness.

After that race, I felt a little lost. Eric had been encouraging me to sign up for an Ironman, but I just didn’t feel ready. We started talking more seriously about selling our house and moving to a bigger one to accommodate our family better. Eric’s job was becoming increasingly stressful, and I was still trying to figure out how to make the best of my job. A lot of our friends in Salt Lake Tri Club were signed up for the St. George 70.3, which would be in May 2016, and despite all the horror stories I’d heard of the unpredictable weather and hills for miles on the bike and run, I decided to go for it.