Oh hey there, if you have a few minutes, I’d like to share how I spent the second Saturday of October, 2023.

I qualified for the Ironman World Championships in November last year at Ironman Arizona, but since I placed 6th in my age group, I never felt great about how I earned my slot. I was jaded by the metaphorical mile-high brick wall of the era when it was nearly impossible for women to earn slots to Kona, it required placing 1st or 2nd in your age group, a feat I accomplished by placing 2nd at Ironman Arizona in 2017, but not in 2022. However, Ironman opened up *many* more slots for women to race in Kona after being forced to by COVID, etc., first adopting a mostly Women’s race in 2022, and a complete Women’s only race in 2023, hence I earned my slot fair and square.

Nevertheless, I spent the first half of the year tumbling through an existential crisis about my place triathlon.

I loved coaching, that was filling my soul, but as an athlete, my purpose was foggy. I kept asking myself, “Do I have any goals left to chase? Do I even want to go to Kona, let alone race there?” Then on the Summer Solstice, after surviving a handful of belly-burning days that torched all lingering doubts, I had a meaningful conversation with my coach, and was fired up and focused to steer my ship toward doing whatever was required to be ready to race on the Big Island in the middle of October.

I trained a lot throughout the Summer. Many, many Century rides, (a few 100+), dozens of miles run on the road, plus a couple of marathons, and thousands and thousands of yards swum in the pool (and ocean) but completing workouts has never been too much of an issue for me, rather it’s recovering well from consistent 3-8 hour training days that has been a struggle the last couple of years. Therefore, I have made it my top priority to prioritize sleep, and with the help of an Oura ring, I now know what restorative sleep looks and feels like. I discovered that if I could sleep 7+ hours per night, I absorbed most of the training Hillary threw my way and was rejuvenated and ready to go the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that… Naturally, there were many nights that I did not sleep that much, and my energy was tanked the next day, but I showed up every day ready to do what I could with whatever I had, and after weeks and weeks of stacking up days and days of quality training, I felt ready and excited to race last Saturday.

Women’s 40-44 Age Group start. Photo credit: Marion Spates.

The swim was rough from the start. I was in the middle wave, my 40-44 age group blasted of at 7:05A, a civilized time of day to kick off an all-day adventure, but what is different about the Kona swim is that we must swim about 100 yards out to the start buoy from the stairs at Dig Me Beach and tread water for a minute or so before the starting horn blares. It’s within that long stretch of seconds that joy, and fear collide. The sun was out in full force, and my teammates were out of sight after chatting for the last twenty minutes waiting for our turn in line, suddenly I was all alone among the masses about to go to battle.

I have fond memories of the swim from 2018, but this second time around, not so much. The ocean was as lovely as ever, but I seemed to have found open water quicker and more easily in 2018, reaching the Bodyguard boat at the half-way mark in what felt like a flash, but this time I was pummeled constantly, getting thwacked by thick arms and kicked by strong legs every other stroke. I felt stuck in place. The ocean was moving, wasn’t it? I counted on the current to push me along, but I underestimated the power of over two thousand women pushing themselves past me through it.

I still enjoyed the 2.4-mile swim (or however long it truly was?) regardless of if I swam slower than I wanted to, I’d have to be made of stone not to enjoy swimming in the warm ocean surrounding Hawaii, but I was relieved when the large yellow Gatorade blow up bottle at the edge of the pier finally appeared, and ecstatic when my feet hit the sand, knowing my time in the water was over, and my time to race was about to begin.

Swim time: 1:15:37

The changing tent was an absolute shit-show.

Every seat was taken, and slick, salty bodies were knocking into each other because there was barely any room to move. A crowded changing tent is not the norm at typical Ironman events, but this race was not a typical Ironman event, so although the packed-in quarters were annoying, the necessary growing pains of a Women’s Only race were well worth the annoyance.

Once I grabbed Big Red from the rack, shuffled over to the mount line, clipped in, and pedaled out of transition, I knew my swim was slow, but that my bike would not be.

Oh, Big Red. Since I have not been blogging much this year, many of you might not know that in July I discovered that Big Red, my strong and sturdy Dimond bike, had a crack in her carbon frame, and it was spreading. That is not good. I could not have been more shocked when my mechanic delivered the news, Big Red was less than three years old, how could she have a crack already? I was deep into my Kona prep, and could not waste time swapping out the new frame that Dimond owed me from my warranty, plus this was the second Dimond bike that had cracked carbon (my sweet, sweet Simone broke back in 2020) so I quickly went to work sourcing a new Trek Speed Concept SLR 7, a monetary investment I was *not* planning to make for another few years, but I followed my gut, and knew I needed and wanted to do everything possible to ride the fastest bike I could in Kona, and beyond. The search took a few days, but when a large Speed Concept SLR 7 popped up at the Woodland Hills Trek location, a display model, and the only one they had in stock, I snatched it up that afternoon.

“So, why did you ride Big Red in Kona, T?” Good question!! When I learned that Ironman did not have any Ironman distance races on the schedule in May or June, I signed up for Ironman Arizona to serve as both my “A” race of the year, and a shot to earn a slot to the Ironman World Championships next year in Nice, France.

Furthermore, I had already paid for Tribike Transport to take my bike to Kona, but the kicker for that option is that I would lose weeks of training (before and after) Kona on the speediest whip I’ve ever ridden, Red Sonja. Therefore, after swapping out the new, crack-free frame from Dimond, I rolled Big Red on the TriBike Transport boat to motor across the Pacific in late September, and in the meantime have been training for Kona (and Arizona) on Red Sonja.

Of course, I LOVE Big Red. I never wanted to replace her. It broke my heart to have to send away her broken piece, but the fact is, Red Sonja is a faster bike, and will be the bike I race from now on, but that didn’t mean that Big Red and I wouldn’t have a Big ‘ole finale, blow-out ride together in Kona.

The first few miles of the bike course whipping down Palani and Kuakini were slightly daunting as women were flying all over the place fighting for position. I felt fine, and picked up my effort, but not at the cost of taking anyone out, (some women were riding irresponsibly, IMO) but once I crested the top of Palani and turned left onto the Queen K, I went to work moving through the field. Thankfully, the sting of a slow swim faded as I fell into a groove pushing steady power and inviting the wind to push me along toward the turnaround at Hawi.

Earlier in the week, (Tuesday), a handful of Biscay Coaching athletes trekked out to the town of Kawaihae to sneak a taste of the historically challenging section of the course, the seventeen mile+ “Hawi Climb”. What lends to its reputation are the consistent and strong crosswinds, (as well as head and tailwinds) so it was helpful to have a teaser of whatever winds showed up to minimize being surprised on race day. However, what I was most excited about for that practice ride was meeting my athlete, Marie Gorman, for the first time in person.

Marie and I after finishing the practice ride up to Hawi.

I have been coaching Marie since December, she is an excellent life-long swimmer and runner, an avid cyclist (and fellow Vegan) who hails from Pennsylvania and would be racing Kona for the first time after qualifying at Ironman Lake Placid last July. It was such a treat to share the entire race week experience with Marie, and the icing on the cake was that she had a banner race herself!

The practice ride on Tuesday was fun, but tough! The winds were popping from all angles, and although it was good to get thrown around a bit, I assumed since we rode later in the day than we would during the race, the conditions would either be lighter or equally rough on race day (Saturday) but not worse.

Thankfully, come Saturday the wind was barely a whisper.

Rolling south from Hawi. Photo credit: Hillary Biscay.

I was hoping to see Hillary and her crew near Kawaihae since that is usually where she camps out during the bike leg, but I didn’t see them on the way up to Hawi, so I wasn’t holding my breath on the way back down, but just as I was cresting the last mini hill there they were on the right side of the road, cheering their heads off!

Last punchy hill before turning right back onto the Queen K. Photo credit: Hillary Biscay.

It was life-affirming to see and hear their positive cheers and was the exact fuel I needed to fill up my spiritual tank, and power through the final forty+ miles of the ride.

Speaking of fuel, I know I may lose a few of you here, but for those interested, this was my *approximate* fueling execution during the bike:

T1: 1x Picky Bar

112 mile bike: 2x Clif Block sleeves, 3x Picky Bars, 2x bottles filled with Precision Hydration including 360 grams of carbs + Bare Performance Nutrition Electrolytes, 2-3 GU Roctane gels??, 3-4 bottles of Gatorade Endurance, and 4-5? Bottles of water. I might’ve missed something, but that all seems about right…

I was prepared to face a headwind on the final stretch riding south on the Queen K since we had the wind pushing us on the way out, but the wind only popped up here and there. It did drag out some pulls uphill, but it didn’t interrupt my rhythm too much. Unfortunately, around mile 90ish, just beyond the Waikoloa Resort, I felt my left hamstring twinge a bit, and knew that I needed to not tempt fate by overriding the last few miles and diminish my chances for a quality marathon.

Bike time: 5:24:21

The run around the pier to the changing tent felt like it took twenty-five years.

Miraculously, the tent was muggy, but not as crowded as after the swim. Next, I was careful to grab and cinch on everything I needed with the help of two lovely volunteers, hopped in and out of a porta-potty, and then trotted out of transition to start my sixty-fifth marathon.

My left hammy was tight, but pain-free, so I had faith that after a few miles it would loosen up and all would be well. My goal was to run around 8:00 minute miles for as long as possible, and hopefully run under the 3:46 I ran in 2018, but more importantly, no matter what the pace shook out to be, I simply wanted to push as hard as I could the entire 26.2 miles.

The first eight or so miles along Ali’i Dr. and through town went pretty well. My gait felt locked up, but I was moving at a decent clip, even clocking a couple of sub-8min. miles, and seeing my friends, athletes, Marion, Hillary, etc., juiced up the “fun” meter during those early miles, but it was still uncanny to think I had hours left in the day before the race was over? So, I didn’t think about the end of the race, rather only the mile I was running in.

The climb up Palani was grueling. I didn’t walk at all, but a “measured jog” seems too flattering, still let’s go with that! Once I turned left onto the Queen K, I felt a jolt of momentum, and ran the next two miles nearly on pace. My energy was up, but I couldn’t quite match the levels to my body; it felt like grinding the clutch while shifting into first gear, my legs moved only so far and so fast, while the Queen K just creeping up, up, and up for miles…

Then we turned left down toward the Natural Energy Lab at about mile fourteen, a thrilling, yet defeating 5-ish mile long chunk of the course. *This was the section where many of you who were tracking me thought that I fell off a cliff.*

Throughout those endless uphill miles running north on the Queen K and muddling down, up, and along the Natural Energy Lab, I kept my spirits humming along by repeating to myself and anyone around me, “Once we’re done with these soul-sucking miles down here, and pop back up on the Queen K, it will be downhill all the way to Ali’i!”

Lies.

The Queen K is uphill both ways.

Luckily, the aid stations were bursting with heavenly creatures. The volunteers in every post for this race were AMAZING, but the sincere empathy and enthusiasm emanating from the humans who worked the aid stations of the marathon were out of this world. I grabbed and ingested water, Gatorade, and starting at mile 13 or 14, flat cola from every aid station, and although I didn’t “walk” through any of them, if I needed to stop and grab an extra Maurten Gel to store for miles down the road, I did.

I am not positive on my gel consumption during the marathon, but I believe I ate 4x GU Roctane gels, and 2-3 Maurten gels.

I stopped looking at my watch around mile fifteen, my pace switched from numbers on a watch, to “Move as fast as you can.” Sadly, that pace was slower than I wanted it to be. At around mile twenty-three, I broke out of a daze when I heard Hillary cheer for me from across the Queen K, amidst a rush of embarrassment, I yelled out, “This is hard!”

Honestly, I was very surprised by how hard the marathon was.

I do not remember it being so tough in 2018. Could it be because I was in such blinding pain from my foot (hammer toe issue) that year that I blocked out the course? Or, that the course had changed, and was genuinely more difficult *this* year? I don’t know, but I was grateful that my foot didn’t hurt this year, just my pride.

And then… at the top of Palani, my legs finally woke up, switched into 5th gear, and took off as fast as they could carry my body over the last mile+ toward to finish line.

I saw Marion midway down Hualalai Rd., the right turn we make off Kuakini, and just before the final right onto Ali’i Dr. toward the finish line, the exact spot I asked him to be waiting, not at the finish line, but when I was all alone right before being swallowed up by the crowd on Ali’i, I needed him there, and there he was.

Clearly, I enlisted the right guy to apply my race number tattoos.

When I raced Kona in 2018, Marion couldn’t come because he was shooting the second season of Lost In Space in Vancouver, and although his supervisor could’ve covered his set duties for a couple days, his wife was due with their first baby that week, so he had to be in LA, and Marion needed to cover for him. But this time around we (including his supervisor who is now a father of two) made sure to clear the decks so he could be in Hawaii, it meant the world to me to have him cheering me on in person!

Once I turned right onto Ali’i, aware that the marathon time I wanted to run was dashed somewhere along the Queen K, bummed, yet resolute to run as hard as I could until the end.

Run time: 3:54:19

Overall time: 10:50:27

This year’s dalliance in Kona was transcending. The fact that only women raced, that the professional women’s record fell with Lucy Charles-Barclay’s 8:24 hr. finish, that I finished before sunset, that I finished (and started) at all, especially after months of ruminating if I was done with Ironman, was glorious.

I am inspired to keep going, to keep pushing myself and my athletes toward our goals, to keep getting stronger on the bike, to keep learning in the swim, and to give myself grace on the run, for years to come.

Next up, the biggie race of the year, Ironman Arizona on November, 19th.

Thank you for reading all the way to the end!! The song and video choice is not related to triathlon at all, or any theme in my life, but I LOVE IT, and it powered me along many workouts for the lead up to Kona. Enjoy.:)