My Journey to Ironman Part 5: Arctic St. George

2016 dawned with the promise of increasing my endurance and getting closer to the mental strength I’d been longing to find. I set two main goals - finish St. George 70.3 and complete Racetri’s The Works, which entails completing all of their races, the longest distance in each race. This meant I’d be doing two 70.3 races. I also signed up for a few half marathons, hoping to break my PR.

Training for St. George became more challenging than I had anticipated. Eric was experiencing more work stress, including another job change. We had started making repairs and updates to our house in the hopes of selling it. I am NOT a handyman. My brain simply doesn’t work that way. Power tools are not my friends. I really wish I could have hired Bob the Builder to pull my share. So this became a big trigger for my depression. Still, I kept doing my best at fitting in the long workouts, trying to take advantage of as much hill training as I could, and trying to help on the house although I felt I messed things up and just gave us more work to do. I was also told I was spending too much time training when I should be helping my family, so I felt guilty. Depression provides an unlimited supply of shame and guilt already, so I was feeling really weighed down.

SLTC Training Weekend

A fun Salt Lake Tri Club training weekend before the race had me singing a different tune. I learned I’d much rather sweat out a warm race than shiver through a cold one, so because St. George tended to be on the warmer side, even in May, I felt ready. Plus my dad was flying out from NC to support me, and Eric and my kids would be there. I had tons of friends who would be racing too, so I was really looking forward to waving to everyone along the course.

Race morning was cool and cloudy. The weather forecast called for some rain tapering off early on and mild temperatures. I can handle this, I thought. I did Ogden marathon in a cold, slushy rain. And part of the bike in Cozumel was a warm rain. So, I got this. I should have known by now to expect the unexpected.

During the swim, it started to rain. Many of the swim course volunteers, including Eric, got hypothermia. I finished the swim in 45:41 and quickly got on the bike. I immediately felt like I was dragging a boulder behind me. People were flying past me on the hills and on flats, which really knocked me down mentally. It wouldn’t be until after two more races and a month later that I’d learn something was wrong with my wheel that was causing friction and rubbing. I hadn’t had trouble training because I’d been indoors on a Kickr most of the time (after getting my wheel fixed in June, I went from 15.5 mph averages outside to 17.3 mph). So my seeming lack of strength through the 3,000+ ft of climbing on the bike really wore me down. About the time I got into Hurricane, a freezing, pouring rain came down from heaven. I was soaked. And I was only about 15 miles into the bike course. About mile 30, I started feeling nauseous. PTSD or cell memory from Cozumel I wondered? I took some Base salt, and within a few minutes, felt tons better. When I made it to the point where the cyclists pass Bluff St, and can see all the runners, I became even more discouraged. There were tons of people out on the run, and I still had 21 miles to go on the bike. I really wanted to quit. But, I kept pushing on. About all I can say to describe the next 10 miles, to the top of Snow Canyon, is cold and wet. It was miserable. I kept thinking of Ogden Marathon.

I can’t tell you how relieved I was to get to the top and make that turn to head down hill. Finally, a break! As I went to switch to my big ring gear, my hands were so frozen, they wouldn’t move enough to push the lever. When I realized I couldn’t change gears, I was bummed I wouldn’t be able to take advantage of the downhill. It turned out to be a blessing. As I coasted, cold air whipping around me, my legs both started shaking - bad. I had so little control over my body because of how cold I was, I was scared to death a gust of wind would kick up and knock me off - going 25+ mph. I started repeating in my head, “Please keep me safe Heavenly Father. Please don’t let me fall.” It worked. I made it all the way to T2, in my small chain ring. When I saw my dad and kids, all I could do was chatter my teeth in their direction. My hands were still frozen, so an angel volunteer came over and changed my wet socks for dry ones from my transition bag (which I couldn’t even open). I knew I’d get warmed up once I started running, so I kept going. A lot of people dropped out of the race in T2, many with hypothermia.

About a half mile out on the run, I stopped, sat down, and took off my left shoe and sock, thinking I had a rock in there. It turns out, it was just my foot thawing out! I felt great on the first half of the run, and was set to get a PR in a 70.3 half marathon. But then my stomach started acting up, and I had to stop at a porta potty quite a few times and start walking some. I was  frustrated because otherwise, I felt great. My stomach had a mind of its own. I kept going though, finishing with about 20 minutes to spare before the cut-off. The negative committee was back in session, berating me for another lack-luster run. So even though it was another step towards mental toughness, since I had overcome the elements, nausea, and stomach problems, I felt really awful.

The rest of my 2016 race season is actually a blur to me now. The only race I really remember was Yuba. I did the Olympic and was in about third place overall for the women… until I got a flat tire on the bike only 5 or so miles in. It took me about 25 minutes to change that blasted 650 tire. I did my best to catch up, but was never able to. By the time I got back to transition, the tire was flat again. The experience knocked so much out of me, I had a really slow run and was the last female to finish. I took a step back from mental toughness because I let that flat tire get to me so much it cost me a podium finish.

Most of my time and energy became consumed with selling our house and buying a new one. We were also planning on getting sealed in an LDS temple. In addition, I was trying to find a new job that would be closer to the area we were looking to buy in. Eric had started a new job, one that he really loved, but was turning out to be stressful - in a good way - but still stressful. It was a really dark time - for me, for our marriage, and for our family. We lost a good friend in the melee. Our marriage was held together with a piece of dental floss, much like Eric used to do to attach his Garmin 910 watch face on the band after he lost the first one to the depths of nasty Salem Pond during a race. Relief finally came when we bought a new house that we loved, moved into an amazing and supportive neighborhood and church ward, got sealed, and went on a week-long cruise to Cozumel, Belize, and Honduras. We didn’t sell our old house until February 2017, so that still provided some stress over the next few months, but in the end, it turned out great because we got a better return on the sale. We couldn’t have been more grateful to say goodbye to 2016, and prayed with all our energy that 2017 would be much better. It turned out to be like a Warhead sour candy. Almost too sour to bear at first, but once you finally make it past that, turns out really sweet.