2022 70.3 World Championship, St. George UT

4 Comments November 1, 2022 Becca

“I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,

Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,

Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance,

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

… I hope you dance.”

For some reason during race week, “I Hope You Dance” by Lee Ann Womack came on the radio SO MANY TIMES! I’ll take it as a theme for this year’s really exciting World Championship race, as every athlete had to overcome the fear of a very cold race on a tough course. We chose not to sit it out, but to dance!

Every season finale has a certain air of nervous anticipation; everyone wants to end the year on a high note. I certainly didn’t want to spend winter thinking about a race that could have gone better! After a really disappointing race a few months earlier in Boulder, CO (delayed start, fueling issues as a result, and getting sick on bike/not finishing) I know how it feels to have the weight of a “bad” race on your shoulders for weeks on end. St. George always delivers tough conditions: always windy and hilly, cold water temps with warm air temps or, in this year’s case, fair water temps and cold air temps. Going into race week, I knew it would be chilly before the start and after the swim getting on the bike, but likely deliver amazing run conditions. I was also guaranteed a wetsuit-legal swim, which favors me as an “adult-learn-to-swimmer.” The race was divided into a female-only day on Friday, and mens-only day on Saturday.

My husband, Elliot, has been coaching me for the last three seasons. This is the first BIG race where he has been solely focused on supporting me instead of both of us racing together. Three weeks prior, he absolutely crushed the full distance Ironman World Championship in Kona, Hawaii! It’s been a very busy season of travel, training, racing and supporting one another.

Elliot is spectacular at peaking me for big races, and physically I was in great shape coming of a 13 month training cycle. World Championships in 2021 was a month and a half earlier than this year, so I felt like I had been training with this race in mind for a very long time! During this training cycle, Elliot and I accomplished the following:

1:20:30 @ Seattle Half Marathon, Female Champion
1:17:55 (5:57/mi ave) @ Rock N Roll Arizona, 3^rd Overall Amateur
Victoria 70.3 Overall Female Champion
Coeur D’Alene 70.3 Overall Female Champion
Won every local race entered, and placed 2^nd overall with the men at Black Diamond and Lake Meridian Olympic Triathlon
1:19:20 @ Rock N Roll Seattle: Elite Female Champion
5^th in 30-34 Age Group at Ho’ala Ironman 2.4 Mile Open Water swim in 1:04:47
Elliot raced Ironman World Championship St. George in May (a “make up” World Championship from 2020), Ironman Canada in August (5^th AG, 3^rd American), qualified for Boston at Tunnel Vision Marathon, and placed 4^th in his AG at Boulder 70.3. He also raced Victoria, Coeur D’Alene and two of the local Olympic distance races with me.

So, yes, it’s been a busy and mostly successful season! We both had some rough races, which is an important part of the journey. I overcame a painful and complex snowboarding injury early in the year and a DNF, while Elliot overcame the fatigue of several long distances races and the shift to working with a new coach.

I worked especially hard on sleep training and recovery in the lead in to Worlds. Traveling to Kona for Elliot’s race was during the phase I needed to put in quality training, so I knew I needed both a fantastic fitness base, discipline during travel, and proper recovery protocols with the new environment and added travel stress.

We always stay 20-30 minutes away from a race venue, and I loved the quiet and quaint country AirBnB we found at the base of a beautiful red rock mountain face in Hurricane, UT. All the careful details and preparation paid off on race day: I felt fresh, calm and well-rested on race morning.

Training through Elliot’s Ironman World Championships in Kona, HI was tough but character building!

The air temperature was 39*F at the start with water temps at 63,* similar to the conditions a few days prior to my practice/acclimation swim. Amateur athletes are released in waves based on their age category: 10 athletes at a time, 15 seconds apart. My age group (30-34) started at 8:15am. The sun rose of the red rocks as we entered the water, and the clear cool water of Sand Hollow Reservoir was a welcome comfort after standing on the cold pier. We swam through several of the older age group women that started before us, which is annoying for us but likely terrifying for them. I felt smooth and strong in the water, especially because it was warmer than the air, and the course buoys seemed to move by quickly. I noticed at the last buoy a girl in my age group (30-34 age group wore light blue caps for identification) blew by me, which is a detail that comes into play later in the race report. I know in the future I’ll need to push myself more, as I clocked the slowest swim time by 90″- 6 minutes in the top 8 women. Typically, I try and hold a smooth tempo effort in the water, despite the short 2km distance, to avoid panicking in the water and wasting energy, but I’m at the technical ability now where I could push harder and go faster. My mindset needs to go from “relax/minimize damage” to “push/race.” I swam the 1.2 mile course in 31:28 (1:29/100y), just 25” off my best time, which I’m happy but not satisfied with considering no warm up and cold conditions.

Cold T1! Thanks for the cheers Ryan and Patty!

The air was cold coming out of the water, but I packed appropriate cold gear for the conditions. Transition 1 felt a bit clumsy with frozen, wet hands/feet and cumbersome cold gear, but I got through unscathed in a fair time (4:50). The beginning of the bike was brutally cold, as there were fast sections that felt very uncomfortable while still wet from the swim. However, I was able to keep my legs moving and mentally focused, eventually thawing out around mile 33. The bike course is an absolute stunner, and very dynamic with punchy climbs and long ascents; one of the hilliest in North America. I was feeling confident on the final climb, as no one passed me or even rode with me during the 56 mile bike course. I biked a 2:34:55 (21.7mph), which was a little slower than I expected having done this course twice before. However, conditions are obviously always a huge factor in St. George (wind, temps, etc) and they had slightly changed the course. I held spot on my power targets! I was smiling and having tons of on the fast descent into town, where large crowds were waiting for us to begin the run.

Hands and feet were a touch numb getting off the bike from the chilly bike leg, so I felt a a little clumsy again in Transition 2. Luckily, I practiced a lot and went through the motions instinctively (1:33). I had told Elliot before the race “I will just be happy to see you when I get to the run!” and I was! I was certain my swim limited enough damage, and my bike was strong enough to put me in a good spot for the run, which is my strongest discipline. However, my smile faded quickly when Elliot told me I was 9^th in my age group, 7 minutes down. Last year I swam 3 minutes slower and biked 5 minutes slower, but was 3^rd in my age group and only 4 minutes down to first. “That’s really bad!” I remember telling him with a frown before turning uphill to the first out and back. “Just run strong and you’ll catch them!” He responded before fading into the noise of the crowd.

Focus mode: ON. I ran really strong and took mental notes on the first loop of the 2 loop, 13 mile run course, fueling as I have in races past. I let go of the somewhat negative and unexpected position update, and paced by feel on the undulating, rolling hills terrain so that I could have a strong second lap. Every time I crossed a timing mat I felt the strength of everyone tracking me from afar, knowing they would cheer with excitement at my effort to battle into a top position.

I came back into town ready to hear where I was in the field. Due to the rolling swim starts, athletes are never sure of where they are position-wise. We have to rely on spectators who have access to a tracking app with accurate splits to let us know, which is really tough when you’re racing to win. I was told the gaps were coming down, and that I was running the best in the field, moving into the top 5. I didn’t relax, but felt encouraged. There was more work to do.

My stomach felt tight and sick from the stress, new stimuli of cold early on in the day, and the general digestion of gels/sports drink during an extended hard effort, but I continued on. Fatigue crept up, but I knew the other girls were feeling tired too. I got more updates from friends on the course that saw me, I was gaining on 3^rd and 2^nd heading into the hilly sections. With just 3 miles to go, I was told I was 14 seconds away from the podium. I began to calculate how fast I needed to run before the finish line to keep catching women. I was running out of miles!

With 2 miles to go, Elliot shouted that I have to dig deep and run hard, that I was in both age group AND top 5 contention by mere seconds. I told him my stomach hurt, but OK and just to meet me in medical tent after the race. My legs felt like lead, but I refused to let my thoughts turn negative. I knew every second mattered now. I pushed the final out and back stretch with everything in me, praying it was enough.

Elliot was the key to my success.
Thank you to all who gave me splits on the run course!

Elliot: “RUN HARD! The gap is down to a second!”
Me: “K meet me in medical!”

Elliot had sprinted over to the final timing mat to give me one last update: with 400 meters to go the gap to 2^nd place was down to one second. I felt like a zombie running, leaning forward to propel my legs just one second faster than the invisible competitor I was racing. I saw the finish, leaned into it, and raised my arms in triumph after crossing. Whatever the chip times said, I gave it my absolute everything. I finished completely alone despite being neck and neck with other women “virtually,” which was such a strange feeling. I began to sob, collapsing into a volunteer who carried me to a wheelchair. Soon I was looking up at a kind medical volunteer, babbling about seconds and how I’m so tired. They assured me my finish was amazing and encouraged me to relax. Thank you volunteers! Luckily, the air was cool which prevented me from excessive overheating and I recovered moments later. I had no idea what my finishing position was, and frankly I didn’t care. It felt absolutely incredible to be so engaged in a battle that I was truly, deeply satisfied. I ran a 1:26:17, and while it was impressive on the day, I KNOW a 1:25 on that course is in me!!

Finishing completely alone despite the “neck and neck” tie!

I immediately called my dad while riding high from the experience; speaking to my dad after races is one of my favorite rituals that I don’t think words can accurately describe. Thank you for being in my corner, Dad, I love you! Elliot found me and asked if I wanted to know what happened with results, and I said no. I just wanted to enjoy how amazing the day went, and my effort all around in each swim, bike and run. We laughed in the gorgeous afternoon sunshine, and caught up with our good friend, Sascha. There is no greater feeling than the sweet relief of a hard earned finish line after months of hard work.

Driving back from the race, Elliot told me what happened: I was in a 3 way tie for 2^nd – 4th in the 30-34 age group and 4-6^th overall. The race directors had to go down to the tenth, and then the hundredth of a second to determine the podium. I had gotten 3^rd in my age group, 5^th overall, by just .04 seconds. CRAZY. I wish we all started together, so that we could have duked it out on the finish line stretch! Elliot confirmed I was the fastest American amateur, which meant a lot to me!

On top of that drama, the girl who won my age group was tactical (albeit unsportsmanlike in my opinion) by starting at the very back of our age group wave, approximately 5 minutes behind that front wave, and swam one of the best age group swim times to give herself company on the bike, and a solid time cushion. Usually, the fastest swimmers line up at the front of the age group; I seed myself according to my predicted swim time vs working the system, but it’s technically within the rules and a tactic other strong age-group swimmers may use. I immediately remembered the girl who blew by me as I was finishing the swim. Recently, I realized this could also mean her course spotter would have seen all of our splits come through about 3-5 minutes before she went through, do some math, and communicate what pace she had to hold run to defend first. Elliot noted I passed her during the second loop of the run, physically. The 3 way tie AND the slingshot swim tactic would be eliminated if we had mass age group starts instead of the rolling starts, just like they do at the Ironman World Championship in Kona. These are issues both Elliot and I ( and several other elite athletes) have been burned by; it’s the primary drawback in racing as an age grouper vs. professionally. I don’t want to sound negative, but these are really impactful experiences that have a profound affect on competitive athletes.

History makers! 3 way tie group at awards. Irish, American, and Polish!

Despite all that, I knew I was in the right place racing amateur instead of professionally. I absolutely loved battling my way to the front. From 58^th position out of the water, to 9^th position off the bike, to a 3-way tie for 2^nd after the run, it was a dream come true in hard conditions on a tough course.

I learned so much about myself, and clocked the best run in my age group, 2^nd best of any amateur in the entire field. I am the fastest American amateur at the 70.3 distance. I’ll admit… I would have loved to win my age group and be top 3 overall. The gaps were close – only 3.5 minutes to first overall and 1 minute 50 seconds to first in my age group/second overall. I was hoping this race would offer closure on what to do next season: continue racing amateur or make the jump to professional, but the 3 way tie only left me wondering if I have more unfinished business with age group racing!

At awards the next evening, the podium girls and I finally met, gushing over the day and excitedly sharing our experiences with one another! The announcers proclaimed history was made as they called the three of us on stage. We were all over the moon as the crowd gasped in amazement over the tie. The feeling of making it to a World Championship award ceremony is just unreal, and I’m thrilled to have made it back. The field was deeper and far more internationally influenced than last year, as travel in 2021 was still fairly restricted. 2/3 of the field was from outside of the United Staes this year! (Last year I was 2nd in 30-34 AG, 8th Overall, and 3rd American). I definitely improved and raced far better, so I am truly happy with the results.

Thanks to my crew! Elliot, Sascha and I at awards.

Happy and relieved to end a busy season on a high note!

My triathlon sister, Carolyn, celebrating after the race! Love you C!

I’m thrilled with my preparation, the coach-athlete relationship that got me here, my performance, and can confirm that I absolutely love this lifestyle. I’m in no rush to think about next year, and am looking forward to down time with my dogs and husband, painting and completing DIY projects while continuing to grow my coaching business. Thank you to all those who helped me this season, on race day, and supported my mental health and emotions throughout the highs and lows of the long season. I appreciate those of you who took the time to read this report, and am happy to answer questions or discuss triathlon/lifestyle if you feel lead. Just shoot me a message on my coaching Instagram page or send me an email (becca@kawaoka-coaching.com)

Cheers,

Becca

One of my idols, Craig “Crowie” Alexander, with me after awards. He was amazed by the 3-way tie! Thank you for your inspiration and commitment to the sport, Crowie!

Race Report: Coeur D’Alene 70.3

2 Comments July 1, 2022 Becca

The main takeaway from this race is gratitude. This is my 5^th year racing triathlon, my husband Elliot’s 15^th year, and if there is one thing I’ve learned from racing year after year it’s that not every day is a great day – especially on the race course. While I am grateful to have the last 2 races result in wins, I am almost prematurely preparing for the day I am bested on the course. The mental shift is now about maintaining confidence with humility in order to both build momentum and prepare for what lies ahead. My favorite quote at this time is: “The good news about failure is that it’s short lived, but the bad news about success is that it’s short lived.” The 48 hours after a win is nothing short of elation, but when the soreness dissipates and the training resumes, the challenge of the next race begins to loom. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t already nervous from my next competition!

Our trip to Coeur D’Alene, Idaho was short. We got in Friday, checked in, did a short swim in the chilly waters of Lake Coeur D’Alene (water temps hovered around 58 degrees the entire weekend) and checked into our Air BnB. We planned to leave right after the race to get home that night, too. After the usual pre-race checklist, it was already time to race! If my ankle was the primary source of anxiety prior to Victoria 70.3 (which I was thankful to have won 4 weeks prior) the cold water was the source here. There’s always something!  Thank goodness we were allowed in for a warm up to acclimate, which isn’t always the case. Quick kiss to Elliot, and we were off.

The swim went better than expected, and I felt a bit better than in Victoria. I tried not to be concerned with the usual hard start/washing machine that kicks off every triathlon, and focused on breathing and staying within myself. While I swam alone the first portion, I was able to avoid a lot of contact and save some energy despite not having a draft. I did find a good jet stream the back half of the swim, and felt like I was catching vs getting dropped – which was encouraging. While I swam a few seconds slower than Victoria, I dropped over a minute on my time from 3 years ago in far choppier, colder, and all around tougher conditions with a total time of 32:26. I remember smiling during the last 300 when I saw the shoreline approaching, as I knew after this I could really get going in the race. I briefly thought one of my swim team athletes, as his mom provided me her secret “record-breaking” homemade bone broth the week before the race. Knowing I would make my athletes (and the few people that knew I was racing) proud really brings me positive energy.

I had really only thought as far as the swim, so when I came out of the water I HAD to celebrate. I smiled and yelled to the crowd of spectators and volunteers: “I DID IT! I SURVIVED!” I was very concerned pre-race that I would have a cold water shock and need to stop; my biggest fear of not being able to continue in a race was almost tangible. Obviously, I had done a few cold swims, but now that I have performance goals and expectations, the anticipation changes. I feel more confidence in having done my 2^nd swim under 60 degrees without “failing” – I didn’t have a ground breaking swim but I did keep myself in contention without losing too much time to girls in front of me.

The bike course in Coeur D’Alene is DELCIOUS. I have been to this race 4 of its 5 appearances, either to support Elliot or race it myself, so I’m very familiar with the town, conditions, and course. I was happy to dry off and warm up much faster than at Victoria. The sun was out with air temps between 60 and 70 throughout the day. I am always aggressive on the bike – knowing you’re 4-6 minutes down is very motivating if not borderline panic-inducing! With about 3,000 feet of climbing on the bike, I was excited to work so that I could hopefully get to the front of the field.

35-40 miles into the bike, you get your first glance of the field, as there is a U-Turn out and back at that point. I counted 4 women in front of me, all 4 of which I knew from past racing or living nearby them. I knew two of them had probably started the swim in front of me and likely outswam me by about 4 minutes. Two of the four of them could run really well. Once I worked my past each one, I kept my eyes forward and the pedals moving. I believe I had the best female bike split, but according to the results (which could be a mistake, since I have checked the top 10 females bike times and none are faster) I had the second best split at 2 hours and 28 minutes on the 56 mile course.

Coming into T2, I knew the run would be difficult both physically and mentally. I’ve never been first off the bike at an Ironman 70.3. It’s one thing to hunt, it’s another thing to be the hunted, especially with the knowledge of who was behind me. The weight of dictating the pace for 13.12 miles was daunting. Due to the rolling swim starts, you never know how big your lead is. Physically you could be leading by a landslide, but someone could be quite close to you virtually. I’ll never get over my 2021 loss of 8 seconds to a girl who started several minutes behind me in the swim. So despite my massive effort on the bike, I had to keep the gas pedal on for the half marathon. In the end, this is probably a good thing! I really wanted to run around a 1:23 on this course, and I pulled off a 1:23:47. It was hard, and my ankle was really painful in the last 5k – likely from the course being all on pavement and a lot faster than in Victoria. Second and third place ran exceptionally well. We all pushed one another to achieve personal bests of some kind, and that fills me with so much joy.

When I started this sport, there was a fair amount of cattiness, both from myself and women around me, and I’m happy to have grown and matured into a competitor that is able to lift up those around me. The women I raced on this day have nothing but respect from me, true class competitors, and we all embraced while sharing our individual stories of triumph on the course. I was really proud of Kayla and Kylie (2^nd and 3^rd overall females) and incredibly thankful for how they pushed me to my best and I to theirs.

The finish line was… indescribable. I had the female lead bike with me and the crowds were so loud and supportive. I knew in my heart I had won, which is such rare due to rolling swim starts as mentioned before. I wish I could bottle that once in a lifetime feeling and keep it with me forever. It was a really personal, joyful memory that I’m blessed to have with me for all my days. I will never forget it. As mentioned, big hugs from my fellow female competitors and athletes combined with the sweet relief of finishing keeps me coming back. My girl Hannah was volunteering at the swim start and finish so that she could give me pre-race AND post-race hugs! Another athlete of mine, Erin, raced very well for her second race of the year and first 70.3 with Kawaoka Coaching. Elliot had a good swim, didn’t feel great on the bike, but rallied to finish what he started!

Whatever happens next, I am incredibly thankful to have put together two great races and achieve back to back 70.3 wins on tough courses in strong fields. I am proud to have been the 31^st out of over 2100 athletes, meaning only 30 men beat me to the line. Pre-race anxiety and fears are real, and will likely always be there. The finish line, whether your first or 50^th, is the greatest reward for overcoming those emotions. Never forget that. (me to my future self, and all others who struggle with the emotions of sport)

On to the next because, like I said last time, the best win is always the next one.

Cheers,

Ironman 70.3 World Championship & Season Review

Leave a comment September 21, 2021 Becca

Joy is where high performance goals turn into reality.
– Wendy Neely, Masters Coach

It’s hard to put this season and World Championship experience into words, truly. I began thinking about this race two and a half years ago, back in 2019, when I began placing overall at half ironman triathlons. The half ironman distance (often referred to as a 70.3) consists of 1.2 mile open water swim, 56 mile bike, 13.1 mile run and is my favorite distance to race. When Covid took the entire 2020 race season away from us, I knew I had to make this year count. I’m no spring chicken at 30, which some of you may chuckle at, but it’s the cold hard reality of racing at an elite level. As someone who, like many, got into the sport as an adult, you feel a certain subtle time clock ticking as every year passes. This marks my 4^th season of triathlon (again, thanks Covid for robbing me of my final year in the 25-29 age group!) and I am thrilled at how it turned out.

2021 in Review:

North American Championship, St. George 70.3, May: 3^rd Overall, 2^nd Age Group
Lake Wilderness Olympic Triathlon: First Overall Female, 5^th Overall Male/Female
Lake Whatcom Olympic Triathlon: DNF, went off course!
Oregon 70.3: 2^nd Overall, 1^st Age Group
Black Diamond 70.3: First Overall Female, 3^rd Overall Male/Female
Bonney Lake Olympic Triathlon: First Overall Female, 3^rd Overall Male/Female
Ironman 70.3 World Championships, St George, September: 8^th Overall, 3^rd American Amateur, 2^nd Age Group

My goals for this year were to improve and have fun, first and foremost. I learned to swim when I got into triathlon at age 26, which is a major disadvantage as I race girls who grew up swimming. I spent a lot of 2020 swimming in the lake, since Covid shut down the pools for several months in Washington, and knew I would have my work cut out for me in the winter. I am blessed to work for a club swim team as the head performance coach, so when pools reopened my coworker, Adrienne, began swimming with me several times a week. This, in addition to Masters swim training, has really helped me improve both my technique, endurance, and confidence in the water! I also knew I needed to improve my bike and run to be competitive across the board. I found a new passion and joy in bike racing, which helped change up my training in a fun way!

*Bike Racing at Pacific Raceways (photo by Jake Smith)*

*Swim training with friend and coworker, Adrienne!*

Starting this season, I knew I had potential. Elliot, my husband, fellow triathlete, and coach, has always been extremely honest with me about where I stand in the sport. We both acknowledge that triathlon is a hobby – it will never be the way we pay our bills- so taking racing too seriously with lofty dreams of racing professionally would not only be delusional based on where I’m at, it would kill the fun of triathlon. Professional triathletes make very little off race winnings (you usually have to place top three as a pro to be “in the money”) so acquiring sponsors is the primary income source, something I’ve always felt very uncomfortable with. If I like a product, I’ll use it and tell people about it, but promoting it for financial gain…no thanks. There’s also an added pressure to perform at races while representing these brands, and I don’t think I’d like that. I also love what I do for a living (I work full time in personal training, performance coaching/marketing for a club swim team, and triathlon coaching) and don’t currently feel like I could give that up to focus on triathlon, which is what racing competitively at the pro level requires. Never say never, but after being asked repeatedly how I feel about pro racing, there is my honest thinking!

*Training with Elliot is always filled with equal parts laughter and sweat*

Elliot and I chose to race St. George 70.3 in May, which was North American Championships, as our season opener to preview the course for racing World Champs later that year. World Championship races are by qualification only, so we also hoped we would both secure a slot to return in September. The course was slightly different and slightly more challenging this past weekend for Worlds than it was in the spring, but I enjoyed it! While all the races I did this year were awesome and taught me something, this race in particular is noteworthy. I’m excited to share the experience with you!

Race week was filled with nervous energy, lots of traveling (we drove 16 hours to St. George), and a lot of good times with fellow athletes and friends. We stayed with Dave and Kimberly Tindall, good friends and athletes, Simon Shi, up and coming superstar, and Juan & Camila from Colombia at the world’s best Air BnB! Everyone in the house was racing, so we kept each other calm, joked about the race, and really had a fun time. I also received tons of encouraging notes from my athletes, coworkers, good friends, family, and coaches which was really meaningful!

The Swim

The water temp was taken on race morning, and at 78* it was declare a non-wetsuit swim. For me, this is a disadvantage as I learned to swim later in life and a wetsuit definitely makes it easier for me to keep up in the water. My age group (30-34 years old) was also one of the last waves to be sent off, so we had a lot of traffic as we caught slower, older age groups the entire time. A crowded, non-wetsuit swim favors someone with a strong swim and/or a swim background, where it has always slowed me down in the past. I didn’t panic when Elliot informed me at 4:30 on race morning to pack my swim skin instead of my wetsuit though. I had been working on my swim a ton, and I was excited for a challenge! Plus, I do feel like a world championship should be a “real” swim, and boy was it ever! It was very physical, as open water swim races usually are especially in a world championship field. I got punched in the eye, kicked in the face, pushed into a buoy, and pushed to shore by swells brought on by strong winds. The first half, despite being filled with nerves and dodging people, went by fast. I remember smiling while breathing to my left side, as I could see the large crowds lined up on the shore watching us start. How cool was it to be here? My first world championship. I took it all in.

*I struggled to get my swim skin off! First time racing in it.*

I got dropped by the first group I started with and the next group that came through, which is common. I always start near the front and hold on as long as I can. I struggle with congestion, and typically lose feet easily if I get jostled around. Something to work on for sure! I stayed calm and held my tempo effort, reminding myself today was going to be a long day and if I couldn’t hold a certain effort to let it go and race MY race. I hoped another strong-ish swimmer from a later wave would come through to help me! The swim is draft legal, which means you can sit behind another swimmer and save a significant amount of energy. Thankfully, a girl came by and I knew I couldn’t let her go. We swam the entire second half together, weaving through women from age groups released up to 4 waves in front of us.

*Coming out of the water (blue cap = 30-34 age group)*

Sand Hollow is an absolutely gorgeous place to swim, and I tried to acknowledge the scenery of each venue I race even if I’m dying a bit from the effort! The blue water against the surrounding red rocks is breathtaking. I smiled as the shoreline approached, glanced at my time and headed into transition towards my bike. I was hoping for a 33-35 minute swim, and finished in 34 minutes and change, a 7+ minute PR from my last and only non-wetsuit half ironman swim.

The Bike

I headed out on the bike hot on the heels of a familiar girl in my age group, Carolyn. The bike is not draft legal in triathlon: athletes must keep a legal distance of 12 meters apart to avoid receiving a drafting penalty of up to 5 minutes. This athlete and I respectfully worked together right off the bat without impeding on the drafting rules.

*Experienced a lot of female camaraderie on course, which was awesome!*

The sky looked dark from the start of the bike, the wind was blowing hard and picking up, and an occasional flash of lightning struck. I hoped we were going to be allowed to finish! Right before the swim start, a gentleman mentioned a storm was expected to hit around 10:30. At mile 10 of the bike, 10:31 am, we got hit by 20-30 mph winds, pelting rain, and eventually hail. I was still riding with the gal in my age group, so I yelled at her as I went by to stay in this with me and not throw in the towel until race officials pulled us off the course. She nodded her head to show her support, and yelled “Let’s do this, girl!” I shifted into a big gear, leaned into the wind, and put the hammer down. Whenever I glanced back, Carolyn was still with me. This helped me hold the aggressive effort into the driving wind and rain.

*Dark clouds rolling in at the start of the bike*

The middle of the bike course was uneventful and somewhat boring. I eased my effort a bit to conserve some energy, but know in the future I have to keep the gas on to stay with the race leaders. Around mile 48, just before the final big climb, I was passed by a really strong female. She went on to win my age group and place 5^th overall. I made the decision to let her go, and continue focusing on my pace and effort to set myself up for the run.

Tough weather usually favors me. It may be easy for some to throw in the towel when Mother Nature flexes her muscles, but I just grit my teeth and flex mine back. I knew I could gain an advantage if I took some risks and kept my effort up while others may play it safe, ease up, or even quit. We had really bad conditions for about 20-30 minutes, but they kept the race going and eventually it cleared up. The course is very highly, but fair. If you go up, you get to descend afterwards. This keeps it exciting, as you constantly have to adjust your gearing and effort. I absolutely love this course. It is as gorgeous as it is challenging, with a notable 4 mile climb up Snow Canyon at the end of the course and a total of 3,639 ft of elevation gain. This race favors a strong cyclist without a doubt, and while I never post the fastest bike split of the day, I usually move up significantly on the bike. I was 46^th in my age group out of the water, and moved up to 3^rd in my age group on the bike, posting a time of 2 hours and 39 minutes. While this was about 4 minutes slower than what I did in May, I knew the weather was a significant factor in the times today and wasn’t concerned at all.

The Run

My legs started to feel heavy about halfway through the bike, but I’m fairly used to feeling that way. If you’re really racing a 70.3, it shouldn’t feel good all the time. What if I don’t do well on the run? I thought to myself. “But what if you do.” I remember saying to myself out loud as I jumped off my bike and ran into transition to change out of my bike shoes and into my run gear. I was concerned about the run, as I knew it was very hilly and challenging with a total of 1500 feet of elevation gain, but reminded myself to fuel a bit extra and to trust my training.

*Elliot and Sascha waiting for me out of T2*

I saw Elliot and our friend Sascha as soon as I left the transition area. “You’re in third!” Elliot yelled at me. Honestly, I was smiling and over the moon just to see him, as I had told Elliot all week that I would just be happy if I survived the swim and got through the bike without a mechanical. “I biked really hard!” I yelled at him as if to prepare him to see slow run splits come through on the Ironman Tracker app, which is allows you to see an athletes times as they cross timing mats out on the course. I enjoy running over these timing mats, as I know loved ones are watching the race from all over the county in long distance support of me. To all of you who were enjoying the battle play out from afar, THANK YOU. It lifts my spirits out there!

My stomach felt queasy, as the sun was out and the air felt both warm and humid. The amateur race had 3,459 total participants, and the age women started very late in the morning as a result of this. For example, Elliot started at 7:41 am and I started at 9:25 am. I adjusted my pre-race fueling as best as I could, but it was around 12:45 pm when I started the run. That’s lunchtime! However painful the race was, I knew at this point I would finishing the race no matter what. Nothing within my control could now bar me from crossing the finish line, so I just ignored my pace and moved my legs.

The run course in May was a simple out and back, but this time around it was a looped course that started with about 3 miles steady uphill and away from town into a sharp incline about a mile uphill before flattening out and turning into a steep downhill back through town. I remembered the hill from spring, but running it twice was a cruel new twist! The course was absolutely packed with people and aid stations were nearly impossible to use. Many people were walking, some were just laying down on the side of the road crying in pain, and several were shouting profanities. I blocked it out and focused on positive things. I smiled so much because HELLO world championships, and truthfully I was playing defense. I had a quiet goal of finishing top 5 in my age group, and with the knowledge I was in third all I had to do was prevent any women from passing me. Typically I move up on the run a few spots, so I trusted whatever my legs could give me was enough. I didn’t concern myself with the slower than expected splits.

The skies opened up for me around mile 4, and it was the one rare and shining moment that I felt truly amazing, confident and at ease in this race. I started feeling better and running well as I came back through town to huge crowds of people. Elliot updated me I had moved into 2^nd place in my age group but wasn’t sure of where I stood overall due to the wave starts, so to just focus on running hard. At that time, I was filled with confidence but knew I had my work cut out for me heading away from the crowds and back up that terrible hill. It took everything in me to overcome the quad and calf cramps from the brutal terrain, but I closed my eyes occasionally and willed my muscles to continue working for me. This was the last race of the year, and I did not want to spend off season regretting anything. I believed I was capable of some incredible things, but those things don’t come easy.

“Be patient, be present, be gentle, be kind.” I kept thinking to myself. It was important to me that I encourage other women out there, so I tried to tell every woman good job as I went by with the exception of when I was running up the steep sections (I needed all the air I could get there!) While I was taking this race seriously, I had to allow small moments to give back to the universe a little by sharing moments with my competitors. The last 2 miles were pure pain, and I was passed by a very strong gal that went on to place 3^rd overall. I tried to stay with her for as long as I could, and surged for a half mile or so, but eventually had let her go. You told your mother you would put yourself in the hospital to reach your potential, so stand by your word, I remember thinking. Another gal came by gunning for the finish, so I gathered myself knowing every second would eventually count, I sprinted with her. Spectators were cheering for us “Thatta way ladies!” “That’s why they call this a race!” When I saw the finish, I was overcome with emotion. Pain came as a searing reminder that I had pushed myself to the very limit, and I collapsed on the nearest stretch of grass and sobbed for a while as I came in and out of consciousness. Several people asked if they could help me, but I brushed it off as pure elation and eventually wobbled to my feet to find Elliot. I promptly threw up the remnants of fueling in my body, received medical attention from several kind volunteers and medical staff, and found my way to Elliot with the help of a good friend, Sascha!

He confirmed I finished 2^nd in my age group, 3^rd American amateur, and 8^th amateur female overall. YESSSS!!!! Sadly, he also informed, my friendly rival Dave had beat me for the third time this year. Next year, Dave!  We headed back to our AirBnB to enjoy pizza before attending age group awards, which was an amazing experience. Triathlon legend Dave Scott handed me my award, which was so cool, and standing on stage with the other men and women who placed top 5 in my age group in front of a cheering crowd was incredibly affirming. My dream really was coming true!

Finishing time: 4:52:19

In a nutshell, the season went exactly how I had hoped. I got my qualifying worlds sport early in the year while simultaneously qualifying for my pro license. I won all the local races I entered and placed overall with the men. I had a bad race that resulted in a DNF, which taught me a lot, and I bounced back. I achieved USAT All American status for the first time. I competed in my first World Championship event, placed in the top 10 overall in the world AND podiumed in my age group. All the things I knew I was capable of doing, I accomplished and I’m incredibly proud of that. I also got beat by over 20 minutes by another age group female AND by a 50 year old dude named Dave, so I’m as motivated to improve again as I am pleased with my year.

The women at the front of the age group race were at a completely different level than me, and I need a better gear in the swim, bike, and run to race with them in the future. I think it’s important to acknowledge your achievements while staying humble and continuously craving growth. You have to get beat in order to grow, and I got beat across the board. While I could pursue a pro racing experience, I know I would struggle with the pressure and anxiety, and I don’t want to hinder my performance or ruin the fun experience of racing triathlon. I also really love engaging in a race, and I’m very clearly not at the level where I could engage in a pro level field. I’m going to race as an amateur again next year and enjoy myself as much possible while reaching for the next level. I have no idea what I can really do yet but, with Elliot’s help, along with all my support system of training buddies, friends, family, etc, I hope to find out. I know I have a lot to learn and I look forward to the opportunity to not only continue succeeding, but also failing. It’s in the failures we learn the most and I know I, like everyone, will have tough times and good times ahead.

I’m passionate about triathlon because its unpredictable, challenging, scary, humbling, and incredibly rewarding. I hope you consider giving it a try if you haven’t already! If I can do it, you can too. If there’s anything I hope to communicate to you from this race and season summary, it would be to challenge yourself, live in the moment, and find something that lights your soul on fire. I’m so goddamn lucky I get to do this!

Thank you for reading this. Wishing you the best!

Bec

*Elliot and I post-race in Bliss, Idaho*

Elliot also had a phenomenal race, placing 34^th in his 35-39 age group with a time of 4:36:45 with a swim time of 31:05, bike of 2:28:23, and a run time of 1:30:10, his best World Championships performance.

Salem 70.3 Race Review

1 Comment July 29, 2021 Becca

“Be Patient. Be Present. Be Gentle. Be Kind.”

Let me start by saying what an incredible blessing the sport of triathlon has been to me. I have grown exponentially in the past 4+ years of training and racing, physically, mentally and emotionally. Working side by side through the highs and lows of competition with my husband has undoubtedly brought us closer together; this past weekend was no exception!

We knew going into the inaugural Salem 70.3 that it was going to be an interesting day. The swim is downriver and would essentially wipe out any potential gains a strong swimmer would typically make. Elliot and I started together, near the front, and stayed together for the most part. I didn’t really have to swim, just tried to stay calm. Several of us got swept to the opposing side of the river onto a sandbar at the start due to the current, but a simple jog over the rocks and bellyflop back into the raging river was my quick response. I think it threw some people off, but it didn’t bother me much. I knew we were all going to swim about the same speed regardless. The current was fast! I knew we were moving quickly by how rapid the buoys went by. My main focus was staying calm and smooth, staying near the buoys, and keeping track of where I was so the current wouldn’t sweep me past the swim exit buoy! It would be one tough swim upstream if that happened. Thankfully, all went to plan, and I set an unbeatable personal swim best time of 22:47. LOL. I saw Elliot in transition for the first time ever (he is always 2-10 minutes up on me depending on the swim distance!) which confirmed it was going to be a weird day.

The bike course was flat and fast into the rustic Oregon countryside. Lovely fields, vineyards, and barns dotted the countryside. I remembered my race theme: be patient, be present, be gentle, be kind. I took this mantra from Headspace – a guided meditation app I’ve been using. Despite pushing the upper end of my “sweet spot” or threshold effort, I tried to take focused breaths, enjoy the views, and exchange kind words to my fellow competitors on the course (unless they were drafting, in which case I was not as kind!) I always race the bike hard, and I felt it was especially important to race the bike like I plan to at 70.3 Worlds in a few months. I had worried about the flat bike course before the race (perhaps being small and powerful would be less advantageous without hills?) but after discussing the matter with a good friend and respected pro triathlete Paul Stevenson (you’re the man, Paul!) I decided to race hard but within myself in preparation for the more important race of the year: Worlds.

Both the bike and run course were straightforward out and backs, so I could count the girls in front of me at the turnaround. I saw Elliot not too far ahead, and at least 5 women to catch. I gritted my teeth and kept the gas pedal on. I held about 10 watts higher than planned the first half of the bike but committed to settling in a bit to prepare for the run. I know I have one of the strongest runs in the field, so after making significant ground in the first 28 miles, I felt like it was wise to get into a touch easier, uncomfortably comfortable rhythm in the back 28 miles. There were lonely stretches out there in No Man’s Land, but I didn’t mind. I felt prepared, present, and determined to go for the top step by putting together all three sports instead of having one stand out leg.

Off the bike in 2:28 with gas in the tank for the run. After a quick transition to the run, I was feeling excited to chase! In past races this year, I didn’t have as many women around me on the bike or in transition. I saw several girls in transition off the bike near me, and just up ahead on the run, but I expected that. A flat course with bull sh*t swim means everyone stays pretty close together, so I wasn’t fazed! I kept Miranda Carfrae’s advice in my head as I completed the first 5k: “Running off the bike always hurts at first, may as well hurt AND go fast.” I was out in 19:28 for my first 5k (disclaimer, it trended downhill!) with just 2 women left to pick off. By mile 5 I had taken the lead. I knew I was running the fastest – to my knowledge – in the women’s field. Ironman provides a volunteer on a mountain bike to the Lead Female during the run, so I had a volunteer on a bike supporting me the rest of the run, which was pretty cool. She radioed my position back to the finish line every time we went by a mile marker, so I trusted they would be watching the virtual lead in case it changed. Everyone was so supportive of me on the course! People had their phones out taking pictures as I came through, and the crowd was amazing when I headed back into town. My pre- race mantra came back to me often on those lonely 8 miles at the front: “Be patient, you have this. Be present, enjoy this experience- it may not ever happen again. Be gentle to yourself, but keep the legs moving. Be kind to others, they will remember how you responded to them.”

I saw Elliot just before the halfway point of the run and could tell he was fighting to stay strong. I was really proud he got to see me in the lead with the Lead Female bike tailing me. After the turnaround, I took note of my competition on the way back. Everyone was still running slower, and the gaps were big. A mile or so after the turnaround, I noticed one girl running well. She looked young, and was running fast, but seemed so far back I counted her out. (Mistake!). I was holding pace for a 1:22 half marathon through mile 8. I allowed myself a few seconds per mile with the lead I had built up, not knowing the girl I had written off was running an unheard of 1:20 pace. Elliot had told me before the race to break 1:25 on the run, and I will probably have the win. So, I held a pace good enough to break 1:25, and kept a little in the tank in case someone ran up on me. My official run split was 1:25:03 (petty sidenote: I started my watch at my bike in transition, so my half marathon split was 1:24:48, which means I did as I was told! 😉

No one ran up on me, physically. Virtually, however, that girl was. I’ll give her credit, she put together an insane run. I’ve never seen an amateur run a 1:25, let alone a 1:20. She deserves a lot of credit for the chase she gave! She has my respect. Would I have liked to run side by side with her and go to battle? Absolutely. By my calculations, we would have met at around mile 12.5 had we started together in the swim. I had enough in the tank to battle. I’ve run an official 1:21 half marathon before, deep in training, and I would like to think we could have been the next Iron War. We will never know.

The experience of finishing first (physically) was unforgettable despite the hard news I would hear after I finished. I got tears in my eyes as I saw the red carpet, finish line arch, and the winning tape rolled out in front of me to break. I took a final look over my shoulder, saw no one, and crossed the line first with the banner over my head, proud. I did it! I executed the course to the best of my knowledge and ability. Five years of hard work and dreaming finally coming true! Photos were being snapped, and Elliot came running up to congratulate me.

Then…

The girl chasing in second came in about a minute later and the announcers told us her virtual time was a few seconds faster. The rolling swim start presented the illusion she was farther down than she really was but, on paper, she did beat me. I felt stupid; what did I do wrong? I never settled in, but I allowed myself some time due to the cushion I thought I had with the knowledge of amateur run field splits and taking note of everyone at the halfway turnaround. I was sad, mad, and frustrated that I had just been told I got beat, without really being physically beaten, and there was nothing I could do about it.

Since the race has passed, I’m more at peace now. I’m a competitor, so it will always sting. It’s no one’s fault: the swim has to start that way due safety concerns for the large age group fields, she deserves to feel happy about winning, and in some way so do I. Anyone in my position would have done what I did and would feel the way I feel. I raced at the front, I took chances that I thought they paid off (and maybe they did….) I raced from the gun to the tape, like any athlete would. We all completed the whirlwind swim where the best swimmers swam the same as average swimmers (like me). I pushed the bike and set standard on the run. It isn’t my fault that someone got to start later and pip me at the line after I had finished. That isn’t a real race if you ask me.

No, I don’t count it as a win. I don’t count it as a loss. I count it as an experience that taught me what to expect as an amateur that wants to win, and if I don’t like that it’s not a live race then it’s time to consider cashing in on the pro license I earned back in May. No, I don’t think I’m ready for pro level racing. I don’t think I’d like it if I wasn’t in the mix. I know I’m a fast age grouper but a middle of the pack to back of the pack level pro. If an age grouper can beat me, even by seconds unknown at the time, I don’t think it’s the best option to go pro. So, we just have to put our heads down, go back to work, and continue building for what has been the objective for the past 2.5 years: Compete with an international, championship level field in St. George at 70.3 Worlds in September. I have one more training block to build all three disciplines, with the fire burning stronger than ever. It just may be the best thing that ever happened to me. Nothing hurts more than being a winner for 60 seconds just to be told you’re the first loser, and I don’t anticipate feeling that way again if there is ANYTHING I can do about it.

Elliot finished well, considering how hard he pushed himself in his build to Kona after qualifying a month ago at Ironman Coeur D’Alene. He wasn’t satisfied with it, but that’s why I love him. He honestly assesses a performance, his athlete’s and his own, and goes to work to improve any shortcomings. It was fun to experience a significant high that turned out to be a significant low with Elliot while he worked through what he would describe as a lackluster performance.

We do this sport for so many reasons: health, structure, fun, etc. Winning age groups, overall, or qualifying for a pro license or championship race are all just bonuses that come with this amazing lifestyle we get to live, both on the good days and the hard days. We still love each other a lot and are incredibly proud of the ability to fight through anything- a quality we both possess and are attracted to in one another. ❤ On to the next!

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk J

Stay present, patient, gentle, and kind folks.

Best,

Bec