PUBLISHED 03/27/2006
When I was growing up, girls didn't run on track teams. We didn't swim laps or ride our bikes for more than a few blocks. There seemed to be an unwritten rule prohibiting us from sweating. So when I was called an athlete after completing my first triathlon in 1982, it was one of the proudest moments of my life. It choked me up, and I didn't think anything could top that feeling. That is, until I was called an Ironman.
After 28 years of road racing (everything from 5-Ks to marathons), I-along with my husband, Rich-decided to take on the challenge of competing in the 2005 Ford Ironman Triathlon World Championship, which entails swimming 2.4 miles in the choppy Pacific Ocean, cycling 112 miles across windy lava fields, and then running a marathon-26.2 miles in the heat and humidity-all within the allotted 17 hours.
Just getting to Kona is a feat. Participants must qualify by being one of the top triathletes in their age group at another Ironman distance event or at a half-Ironman, which consists of a 1.2-mile swim, 56-mile bike ride, and 13.1-mile run. If all your hard work pays off, great, but you can't celebrate too long-you have another race to train for. Rich and I kept each other going as we logged an average of eight miles of swimming, 230 miles of cycling, and 50 miles of running each week. To prepare ourselves for the transitions from one sport to the next, many of our workouts were back-to-back: Swim laps, then hop on the bike; wake up the next morning and go for a run.
Amazingly, our feet, legs, and minds survived seven months of this, and in October, we found ourselves among 1,822 of the fittest athletes in the world. It was exciting but also intimidating. During race week, there was a lot of buzz in downtown Kona. Each morning, everyone seemed to be swimming part of the course at Kailua Pier. Fast girls and buff guys cycled by. Runners were everywhere. I tried to keep my cool as race day approached, which was difficult in more ways than one, as temperatures usually climbed to 90-plus degrees.
