Why Triathlons?
In 2006, I signed up for a half-marathon. I trained for months and ran the race even though my knee wasn't happy from all the training. My plan was to run the half that fall as preparation for signing up for a full marathon the next year. The marathon was supposed to be a way to celebrate turning 30. That was the plan. But…
After running that half-marathon, I lay down in the grass with my hips and knees hurting and thought to myself, “There’s no way I could run twice that distance. People who run marathons are crazy. Maybe a triathlon is a better idea. Yeah…that makes more sense, three sports for the year I turn 30.”
I waited until after the race to see an orthopedic doctor, who told me that my kneecap's alignment was off. He sent me to physical therapy and gave me a return-to-running protocol. I went through a couple of rounds of PT, and at some point, I received a few injections to keep me going until I finally scheduled surgery for November 2010.
The point of this story isn’t about my knee woes but about why I love triathlons. In 2007, I signed up for and completed a sprint-distance triathlon, and I loved it. Not only was it much more fun than the half marathon, but the training matched my “variety is the spice of life” attitude. When training for the race, I would go to the gym before work in the morning to swim, take a spin class, or sometimes do both. I ran on alternating mornings or during lunch breaks. Swimming was a good way to work my upper body and almost felt like recovery for my legs (I never kick much when I swim to conserve energy).
I trained almost daily with one rest day a week, but the different workouts kept things interesting. My dog at the time loved running with me, so it was a great way for her to burn off some energy, too. I only had a mountain bike when I declared I was going to do a triathlon, so my coworker, who was also a mountain biker, went with me to the local bike shop. We both bought road bikes that day — the same one, since they were on sale because they were the previous year’s model. I mapped out a loop from my house that matched the race distance and started riding it a couple of times a week. I went on longer rides with friends on the weekends.
Not only did I have a great time at that first triathlon, but I also managed to raise quite a bit of money to support the Susan G. Komen non-profit since the race was a Tri for the Cure. The swim was chaotic. I probably ended up swimming a longer distance than I was supposed to because I wasn’t good at sighting, and I was trying to stay on the edge so I wouldn’t get kicked or grabbed as often.
When I got on the bike, it was my moment to shine. Some people had triathlon-specific bikes, but since this women-only race attracts many newcomers to the sport, there were plenty of others on road bikes and even some mountain bikes. I passed a bunch of people, which made me feel confident. Getting off the bike and transitioning to running feels strange – it always takes my legs a minute to adjust to the different motion, but I ran my heart out. I’ve never been and never will be a particularly fast runner, but my pace was fairly average for the crowd I was racing against, so I felt proud as I crossed the finish line and high-fived my friends who showed up to cheer me on. I was hooked.
I signed up for a race the following year in Steamboat Springs. It was slightly longer than most sprint races, but I liked that the field of participants was much smaller (only 600 compared to 3,000 at the Tri for the Cure). I enjoyed getting to experience Steamboat even though the altitude made everything more challenging. In June 2009, I did another race and finished in the middle of the pack overall, but in the top quarter for my division.
After surviving a heart attack a month later, I was determined to get better so I could return to the triathlon scene. I signed up for another race in August 2010 (13 months after my heart attack). The American Heart Association sent a crew to film footage for a video about my survival story for the Go Red for Women Luncheon that fall. Although it was a different race than my first, it was the same course. I finished better than in 2007, so I was satisfied that I was back. A little heart attack wasn’t going to slow me down.
Some races I signed up for didn’t happen—like the one I drove to and sat in the car for 10 minutes, watching the rain outside and deciding I wasn’t up for racing in the cold, wet weather, or the off-road triathlon that was canceled because the bike course was washed out by flooding.
I also spent a lot of time on my road bike. For several years, I participated in Bike MS—a two-day, 150-mile ride in Colorado to benefit The National Multiple Sclerosis Society (I have a cousin with MS). When I stopped doing that ride, I switched to the Courage Classic to benefit the Children’s Hospital because my employer at the time put together a team. The first couple of times I rode the Courage Classic, it was a three-day event, but it eventually changed to two days. The days are tough, and that 80-mile first day over three mountain passes eventually got to me. I stopped participating, but not until after I met my husband at that event in 2014. We rode in the event together for a few more years, but gave it up a while back.
I’ve always enjoyed sprint-distance races the most because I can manage with a reasonable amount of training that doesn’t feel like it takes over my life. The races in Boulder always had a slightly longer-than-usual bike course. I’ve completed some longer races, including an Olympic-distance race in 2014, two aqua bike races where you swim, then bike, but don’t run (one was an Olympic distance and one half-ironman distance). At both of those events, I was so relieved that I didn’t have to run when I got off my bike. By 2019, I had already undergone two knee surgeries and knew I was heading toward a partial knee replacement, so I took a couple of years off from triathlons.
I’ve never cared much about competing with others. I raced for fun and to see if I could beat my previous time. I didn’t worry too much about my transition times. I have to laugh when I look at my times over the years. A couple of my transitions took over seven minutes! What was I even doing? TMI, but I could never bring myself to pee in my wetsuit, so I did take bathroom breaks between the swim and bike.
Since I moved to Evergreen, where many roads lack shoulders for bikes, I don’t use my road bike much anymore. I ended up buying another mountain bike and spending more time on trails instead of on the road. It didn’t help that my brother-in-law was hit by a pickup truck while riding his road bike and spent months in the hospital with multiple broken bones and a traumatic brain injury. He doesn’t remember the accident, so he still rides his bike regularly, but the rest of the family has shifted to riding on dedicated bike trails. But, I digress…
After completing eleven triathlons, my partial knee replacement last spring, followed by some shoulder problems that began last July, kept me from signing up for a triathlon the past few years. Instead, I have participated in some fun events, like a SUP-athlon (stand-up paddleboard, bike, and trail run), a local 5K trail run, and a Halloween-themed 5K run with my dogs to support the Evergreen Animal Protective League.
It’s crossed my mind to sign up for another triathlon, but that means dusting off the road bike and doing some test swims to make sure my shoulder can handle that repetitive motion. Maybe a good goal for the year I turn 50, since it’s not that far off. EEK! What’s your favorite hobby or sport? Do you stick with the same one or mix things up?