7 Takeaways from my first Ironman 70.3

Sprinting to the finish (or trying to).

About one year after witnessing my first Ironman 70.3 as a spectator, I found myself standing on the beach in Santa Cruz, California, about to race into the water as a competitor in that very same race. My reasons for signing up were myriad. I’d been a distance runner for a while and wanted a new challenge, but I didn’t want the lifestyle interference that came with 20+ mile training runs. And then, I read an article (don’t ask me where; I can’t find it now and, for all I know, it came to me in a fever dream) stating that 33 years old was your peak year of physical fitness — so, for my 33rd birthday, I signed myself up for an Ironman 70.3!

While I dabbled in shorter distance races along the way and was fortunate to have friends guide me through parts of training, there were still a number of surprises that popped up during the race itself. Here are a few of the lessons I walked (or perhaps, more accurately, crawled) away with.

1. Don’t mess around with your training. I’ve run a marathon and a few Olympic-distance triathlons, and I’ve always trained for them…but I’m not exactly a stickler for training programs. Life often gets in the way and I end up behind where I would like to be. Still, I shrug it off since I’m pretty good at pushing through pain in a race. While that happening with my first 70.3, my training volumes were still pretty decent…but had they been much lower, I’m not sure that I could’ve finished the race. I highly recommend anyone considering a 70.3 take training seriously — you never know what might happen that could cause you to need to tap into your reserves (case in point: the wind was out in full force for Santa Cruz, causing me to expend far more energy than expected biking directly into a strong headwind).
2. Bring your support crew. While an Ironman isn’t exactly the most spectator-friendly sport (it takes 6+ hours for most people to finish, and your crew can really only watch from a handful of spots for a grand total of a few minutes), having people with you is a must. From lugging around all the items needed for three sports, keeping track of where all that stuff is (did I leave it in the transition area? Is it still in the hotel?), properly preparing (sure, you can go to a pre-race Italian carb-loading dinner on your own, but it’s a lot more fun with other people!), and, of course, the drive back home (have you tried driving for long periods of time with post-triathlon legs?), having a support crew makes all the difference. I got bitten with the triathlon bug while supporting my friend Brent in his first 70.3 in Santa Cruz last year, and this year, we both competed while the other two people from last year’s support crew continued to support. We’ll see who ends up competing next year!
3. Don’t count on your tech working. Like many triathletes, I religiously log every workout with my Apple Watch, and I’m known to scrutinize my results immediately afterwards to check my pacing, heart rate, and anything else that can be quantified. In my Olympic-distance races and brick workouts, I never had any problem with my watch lasting the full race. However, despite not tracking my swim and only starting to log my progress with the bike portion, my watch died less than two miles into the run. That meant my only option for pacing was asking volunteers at aid stations for the time. Ultimately, I probably ended up finishing faster than I would have had my watch not died, since I didn’t know exactly where my time stood and I wanted to beat my goal. But, still, I had a brief moment of panic trying to figure out what to do when that dreaded “Low Power” screen flashed on my watch!
4. Expect the unexpected. Massive crosscurrent in the water. Your favorite sunglasses break right before race day. 25mph headwind. A cold swim leaves your feet numb until halfway through the run. Your meticulously laid out transition area is all over the place when you arrive, causing you to accidentally leave the aforementioned favorite sunglasses behind when you jump on your bike. I’ve only done three triathlons to date, and all these things have happened to me so far. And I’ve witnessed flat tires, bike crashes, and much more. It’s easy to get superstitious and think that if one thing goes wrong, your day is over. And sometimes that’s the case — but it usually isn’t! So prepare for what you can — train on the days where the weather is miserable, bring spares of everything you have, chat with your fellow athletes about what they’re bringing to make sure you didn’t leave something behind, and — perhaps most importantly — don’t wait until the absolute last second to set up your transition (I’m often guilty of this). You’d be amazed by what pre-race nerves can cause you to overlook!
5. The pre-race nerves are real and can impact your pre-race routine. Again, I’ve done plenty of races before, and I’m known for being pretty laid back about them. I can’t tell you the last time I actually felt nervous before a race other than perhaps the few minutes that I’m standing at the start. But with this one, the nerves hit hard. A few days before the race, I went home from work early thinking I was coming down with a stomach bug…but quickly realized it was just nerves. As someone who loses their appetite when nervous, that meant I had to focus on getting proper pre-race nutrition despite not being hungry at all, which made pre-race carb loading a lot less fun. I was grateful to have seasoned triathletes and very organized friends around to help me stay on top of everything that needed to happen before the race.
6. You’ll probably want to quit or cry (or both) at some point. Exercising intensely for 6+ hours with no headphones to distract you takes its toll on your mental state. Even though I was pretty optimistic about my ability to soldier through just about anything in a triathlon pre-race, I did not anticipate having to ride my bike 28 miles directly into a headwind over hilly terrain. That stretch felt interminable and demoralizing, and I kept telling myself that if it didn’t let up soon, I was going to quit because there was no way I was going to hit my goal anymore. I told myself to wait until the turnaround and see how it was on the way back, and I was glad I did — I took full advantage of the tailwind on the way back and booked it, finishing the bike a few minutes faster than I’d anticipated (albeit with totally weary legs). Still, even after conquering my desire to quit, my glycogen stores were running low and found myself spontaneously crying once or twice during the run (a few deep breaths nipped that in the bud). Virtually everyone else I’ve talked to who has run a marathon or longer distance triathlon has a similar story, so if it happens to you, know you’re in good company.
7. Stick around a day after, if possible. I was fortunate that Santa Cruz isn’t too far from my home base of San Francisco. So, I headed down early Saturday morning, got all my pre-race prep out of the way that afternoon (packet pickup, athlete briefing, bike check-in, etc.). And after the race, we headed back home pretty quickly. But both my friend who had competed and I separately mentioned how nice it would’ve been to take a day off after to just enjoy Santa Cruz, relax, and revel in that post-race feeling (it’s a little difficult to enjoy with those pre-race nerves). I know not everyone can take a day off, but if you can…do it!

Shoutout to the best support crew a girl could ask for!

All in all, my first 70.3 was a great experience. It was far and away the most difficult race I’ve ever competed in, but it was also fun — there was great course support, the scenery was beautiful, and I had a great crew along with me. For anyone thinking about taking the plunge, I highly recommend it. It may be a bumpy ride, but I bet you’ll be pretty happy with your decision in the end.