Kirsten Sass

    For a number of reasons, it seems I have had difficulty posting many stories this year.  Several have been started, and hopefully I will get them completed.  As it turns out, I also have a story from last year that I have not shared.  I remember writing this up after some local Team Magic races last year, and time slipped away, so I decided it would be fun to post them before the races this year.  Well, it was pretty bittersweet re-reading it, but I wanted to share . . .  

Some ‘Magic’ Racing with my Dad and Friends

I love to race in Tennessee. Over the years I have gotten to know more and more of the area racers - and usually a good group of friends end up at the same races, which makes it very fun. Team Magic Racing puts on many events, but two of my favorites are the Chattanooga Waterfront Triathlon and the Music City Triathlon (in Nashville of course). For the past several years I have had conflicts and had to miss the Chattanooga race, so I was very excited when this year worked out. Not only that, my father was going to be racing, as well as several of my local triathlete friends - which made it even better!

The Chattanooga race has a lovely downstream swim, a new bike course this year cut out a lot of hills and made for a really fast bike, and the run wound down along the river and back. The city is, of course, just beautiful, and a whole group of us managed to have dinner together the night before. I have to tell you, I just love racing with my dad. Even when he is not with me I always think of him - what he would think about the course, how we would discuss it after - what was the best part, what was tough, who had faster transition times, the ‘race within the race’ of the hometown crowd, etc - so having him racing was really special. I saw him as I headed in from the run, and he was just smiling and so excited cheering me on. Afterwards we met back up at post-race tent, and discussed our races. We both ended up making the podium - and I just could not have asked for a better day.

The Music City Triathlon is at the end of July and is notoriously HOT and HUMID. And - I love it. Again I was excited as my father was racing, along with tons of friends from home and the Nashville area. The swim is in the Cumberland River, and is a race director’s nightmare because the current can sometimes be rather ‘challenging’ shall we say. Team Magic has done wonders in adapting the swim course to negate this, and this year went nice and smoothly. The bike is on closed roads, the majority on a 4 lane parkway, completely closed to traffic, with some nice rolling hills. And the run, is hot. Very hot. I had a friend, Kevin Elmore, fly in from California to race, and again a group of us were able to meet the night before for a nice dinner.

The race went well, it always makes me happy to see my dad out there on the run, and we all tried to encourage each other along as we melted…

 I am lucky to be able to do a lot of different races in a lot of different places, but these ‘hometown’ races still rank up there as some of my favorites. There is just something really special about racing with so many friends, and I never take for granted being able to race with my father. My heart is full.

Thanks for reading. If you get a chance, come race with me in Tennessee!

                                    Back to 2018 . . . 

 This year I was fortunate enough to be able to once again race in Chattanooga and in Nashville.  The friendships and support of the triathlon community helped me through - although my father was, of course, very much on my mind.  The Music City Triathlon celebrated it's 40th anniversary - which is pretty amazing.  Kathleen Johnston did an incredible job rounding up memoralia from the previous years - including lists of race results.  Turns out my first Music City race was in 2000 - my second year of doing triathlons!  The most exciting thing for me this year, is that my 18 year old niece, Abby Maimone, flew down from New Jersey to do her first triathlon!  She was with me in packet pickup when we discovered this, and she looked at me and said, "That means you did this before I was born".  Yes.  Yes, indeed.  Lol.

     Abby had a great race.  Elvis and the kids were there cheering.  I saw tons of friends from the area out there racing.  The weather was the coolest it has probably ever been.  The triathlon community was as supportive and encouraging as always.  And, I thought about my father.  And I thought of all the years we did this race together.  And how proud he would be to see everyone out racing.  And what we would have laughed about, and discussed, and strategized about after the race.  And then I went out to a wonderful brunch with the family and some friends that I met . . . through triathlon.  And although my heart still aches something fierce, it is still full with all that life has given, and continues to give, me.  And I am so very thankful I never took for granted a single race I shared with my Papa.

 Once again - Thanks for reading. If you get a chance, come race with me in Tennessee!

One of my favorite pics from last year - my Dad stopping to say hi to a friend, Tomas de Paulis, who was diagnosed with Stage 2 Lymphoma. He was unable to race last year, but his treatments were successful, and this year he not only raced, but won his age group. So very awesome!

2017

2018 - Keeping the tradition going

It was a good day in Nashville.

KONA

IRONMAN WORLD CHAMPIONSHIPS

A: AKAHAI - Kindness
L: LOKAHI - Unity
O: ‘OLU’OLU - Agreeable
H: HA’AHA’A - Humility
A: AHONUI - Patience

“From the ocean to the mountains, the spirit of Hawai’i and its guardians maintain balance and harmony through Aloha. The lessons of humility, patience, and perseverance are gifts passed down through generations; they remind us that as we move forward we should embrace and respect our past.”

That was the theme for this year’s Ironman World Championship race. Appropriate on a number of levels. And I certainly experienced humility, patience, and (thankfully) perseverance.

Ahhhhh Hawaii. Fortuitously the week leading up to the race fell on my children’s fall break. We were very lucky to all travel there in 2015 when my father and I both raced - which was really special. Since that time, it has been the one place my kids have always asked to return to. “When are we going back to Hawaii?” is a recurrent question. Bella even said to me one day, “Mama, smell this flower, it smells like Hawaii”. My sister, Robyn, was coming with her family (Fred and Caitlyn), and my youngest brother, Roman, was also joining us.

So, while the trip was about the race, it was also about family time and enjoying the destination. I had coached an open water swim camp in Kona with Total Immersion Swimming in 2015, and one of the swimmers who attended the camp lives part of the year in Hawaii. I contacted her before we went, because I had seen where she had done a ‘Lavaboat Tour’ in the spring, and if the volcano was active I thought that would be a pretty amazing thing to do. She gave me the info for the company she used (www.seelava.com) - the family was agreeable, so we booked it.

We arrived in Kona late Saturday night. Sunday just spent an easy day, did some grocery shopping, and checked out the nearby beaches. Monday was our lava boat adventure. So…we decided to do the sunrise tour (I mean, sunrise over flowing lava - how cool is that?), and we had to be there at 4:30 am. And - it was a 2 1/2 hour drive. Thank heavens the 5 hour time change was in our favor, because we sure did load up in a van and head out at 1:15am. Our captain was great - very no nonsense, and went through a whole list of information - things like….hang onto the bar in front of you at all times, we will be in the open ocean, waves can be 10 feet or more, if you’re not hanging on you risk cracking your head on that metal pole, if you get sick we prefer you to throw up off the back of the boat, raise your hand and we will help escort you there, if you are pregnant, old or disabled, this is not for you. OK.

So we climb onto this boat which is still loaded on a trailer, drive over to the ocean, back in, and suddenly we are afloat, in the ocean, in the dark, in the waves, heading off to see lava from an active volcano. We were not in the water for 30 seconds when Sebastian started crying that his belly hurt and wanting to get off the boat. And, I am thinking … what have I gotten us into? Oh, man, I was pretty concerned for a while. I got him to lie down in my lap and close his eyes, and he settled down. Luckily it was a relatively calm day, but I kept a tight grip on my metal pole. And then, ahead, out of the dark you could see a glow. It was absolutely one of the most incredible things I have ever seen. Our captain was amazing - he got us so close you could feel the heat - he said it was about 2000 degrees, and the water we were in was about 100. And as the sun came up in the distance, it was a pretty spectacular way to start the day. Sebastian rallied, and by the way back he was sitting next to the railing laughing as the boat rocked and rolled over the waves. Thank goodness.

Sebastian

The rest of the week was a combination of training, my family pitching in to help watch the kids, visiting some different beaches, seeing the wildlife - turtles, fish, dolphins, and getting in some relaxing.

There were athletes everywhere - running, swimming, cycling - continuously. And, the really, REALLY cool thing is - everyone was SO friendly. Running along Ali’i Drive with a constant stream of runners pretty much everyone made eye contact and gave a smile or a wave. Very cool.

Jeff, Roman, Fred, and Robyn

We stayed in a condo and cooked in for the most part, so in the evenings we gathered together and ate outside watching the sun set over the ocean - and of course watching for that elusive green flash. Yep, life is good.

And then, race day was here. Jeff (my husband) drove me down early Saturday morning and dropped me off. I like being early, so I had a few minutes of standing in line before body marking opened. When they opened the gates all the volunteers cheered and clapped, then applied our number tattoos for the day. We went around a corner for a mandatory weigh in for medical, and then had access to our bikes (we had to check our bikes and our gear bags for the bike and run the afternoon before). Every row of bikes had 2 floor pumps at each end, which was very nice, so I pumped my tires, put on my water bottles, attached my shoes, made sure all was good - and found a place to chill for the next few hours until the race began. I watched for Jeff Fejfar (a friend of mine from Memphis who was also racing) and never found him, but my friend Michael Ross from Paducah found me - so we hung out and waited together. And then - it was time.

Michael and I at a practice swim the day before...

Swim start - amateur females were the last to go, at 7:20. It was an in water start, just a little off the beach. The last time I did this I started beside the pier on the far right - and got absolutely beat up. So - this time I started far left. And, it was perfect. Right from the start I found a pair of feet that were going my speed, staying out of the chaos, and holding a good line. I usually prefer to swim on my own and choose my own line - but every time I strayed from those feet I had to sight more and work harder and went slower - so on those feet I stayed. For the entire swim. It was the nicest, smoothest, least stressful swim I have ever had at an Ironman. We went a little wide a few times - but it was still much faster for me to stay on those feet. A friend of mine who coaches Total Immersion, and Fresh Freestyle swimming, and who has worked with me the past two springs named Dinah was actually doing the “Swim the Suck” a 10 mile swim in Chattanooga the same day - and I just pretended I was on her feet (and happily only doing 2.4 miles). At the far end of the course where you turn around the huge Bodyglove boat and start heading back I thought about my dad. When we did the race two years ago, as I was swimming around that boat I looked over and, out of the thousands of people out there racing, there was my father. And, yes, I gave him a good poke in the ribs when I realized it was him. Pretty amazing! 

Out of the swim, through the showers, through the change tent where I got my bike bag and got sunscreened up - to the bike, and out on the course. The first part of the course winds through town a bit, lined with spectators - so that is really fun. I saw Mary Ann (who recommended the lavaboat tour),

Seems Elvis also found Mary Ann (left) and her friend Phyllis

then a couple that I coached at a Total Immersion course in Florida (who had come to watch me race - I am still beyond honored by that) - Don and Misty Wright.

Misty with her amazing sign!!!!

A little further down were Elvis, Robyn, Fred, and Caitlyn, and then Wendy Fejfar (first time I’d seen her on our trip!), and then Dave, Angela, and Nathan Hacker (also came to watch, combining it with an anniversary trip/vacation). Then the road turned to climb to the Queen K - and it was out to the lava fields. All in all, I was very happy with my bike. The one thing I did prior to leaving for Hawaii was make a trip to Memphis to visit with Dale Sanford and Bryant Funston (BPC Performance Systems) and had a Precision Hydration sweat sodium test done (more info on this here: https://www.buildpeakcompete.com/hydration/). I have always felt I am a ‘salty’ sweater, and often succumb to muscle cramps at the end of hard efforts - and especially in hot weather. If I started to cramp on that bike it was gonna be a long day. I am so, SO thankful I did that, it gave me more info going into the race and made me again realize just how important the nutrition/hydration/electrolyte part of an Ironman is. I stuck with my plan, forcing myself to grab a bottle of cold water at every aid station. The winds picked up going into the turnaround at Hawi, but then the tail wind reward on the way back in was really, really sweet. Conditions were pretty classic otherwise, relentless heat from the sun and the lava fields, with occasional beautiful views of the ocean in the distance. Just kept it steady, and felt I was where I needed to be.

Always good to be cheered on by Elvis...

And then, the run. A volunteer grabbed my bike for me after the dismount line, and I collected my run bag, got more sunscreen applied, race number and run stuff on, and got back out there. Legs didn’t feel too bad all things considered. My plan was to start super conservative, even walking if I felt I needed to (I hate walking in races unless I have no other option, so I just jogged slowly), but I felt ok. Tried to keep around an 8:15 pace or so. The first several miles of the run are an out and back on Ali’i Drive - again lined with spectators and music and beachfront views. Very fun. Saw all my group again, including Don and Misty, Captain Thad and Nicole (from the Music that Moves Tri group out of Nashville), Celeste and Cleve (more friends made through Total Immersion swimming - both are coaches), found Roman wandering along Ali’i, and the rest of the family (with Elvis) were at the far end by the turnaround. Even (finally) saw Jeff F. and also my friend Michael Ross - both looking great. I felt good all the way until we made the turn out onto the Queen K again, and the heat, and then things started slowly deteriorating.

It.Was.Hot. I.Was.Sunburned. I could feel it. Heat from above, from the pavement, from my back. Every aid station cold water went in me, on me, on me, on me, in me. A lot of places there were so many people you had to get your own water. Some aid stations had cold sponges, some didn’t. I kept sticking to my hydration plan, making sure I got enough sodium in me while getting water down. I took one gel with electrolytes around mile 8. And then, my stomach started rebelling. Off the Queen K is a left hand turn down to the Natural Energy Lab - an amazing stretch filled with music and the energy from the aid stations is just palpable. By the time I made it to the turnaround at the far end, it was getting bad. I was extremely thirsty, but so queasy it was hard to make myself drink anything. I’ll spare details, but I did have to make a quick stop. As I started back the desire to walk was getting stronger and stronger. It is always there, a little voice saying how nice it would be just to slow down for a bit, just walk a little, but - I have had to walk a few Ironmans. And - it is a long day. After a particularly rough race one year my whole goal became to do an Ironman and not walk the run. I managed to do that and vowed that if at all possible I would not walk another one. I may be a little stubborn at times, so despite going slower and slower, I kept ‘running’ - well, maybe shuffling - but I did NOT walk.

My shuffle from the Energy Lab - thank you Steve Brandes for the cheers and the pic!

I got passed by lots of people. Lots. Some I knew. Many I did not. All offered words of encouragement. Some tried to get me to run with them, ‘just to the next aid station’ - didn’t happen but it was a nice thought. I thought about everyone I knew watching and cheering every time I crossed a timing mat. I thanked the volunteers, I sang songs to myself, I thought about Bobby McGee run form (even while shuffling), I pulled out every mental strategy I possessed, and I kept moving forward. I made it to the turn down Palani Road and saw Cpt Thad and Nicole again - I had 1.2 miles to go. Getting there. Turned on Kuakini Hwy, then down Hualalai Road where I found Robyn and Fred - and they were SO excited. I think I even got a comment from Robyn about being able to run faster than me…which she certainly could! lol. And then, finally, I made that last right hand turn onto Ali’i Drive. People were everywhere. And there my sweet, dedicated, amazing family were waiting - cheering like crazy. I nearly cried. And - they were SO excited.

Patiently waiting...

My friend, Bailey Bell, recently did his first Ironman in Chattanooga. I had messaged him good luck, and he responded to me afterwards and said, “what an experience! I can see why you are hooked!”
My immediate thought was, ‘the finish line of an Ironman is a very dangerous thing to get hooked on’.

There are no words that can describe it, no pictures that do it justice. An Ironman finish line is one of those things that you have to experience to understand. My father told me after we did our first one (Ironman Florida) together that there are few things (if anything) in life that you put so much time, effort, training, and sacrifice into that come down to one day. 17 hours is the cutoff time for most Ironman races. 7am to midnight. A whole day spent swimming, biking, and running. But the race is so much more than that. There are the elements, the nutrition/hydration, the mental and psychological, and the inevitable things that don’t go according to plan (and there is always at least one of those - at least!) and you have to react and adjust to on the fly. To persevere and to overcome, and to keep moving forward until you reach that finish line, that is a true test on many different levels. So - let me tell you, that finish line is a special thing. And while on some levels it is individual, there is something to be said for every person who is out there cheering. The energy from those cheers have kept me going on many an occasion. And...that finish line stretch is just magical. Again - I don’t have words to do it justice, but if you have been there, you know. The music, the crowds, the knowledge that you will make it, the relief in that knowledge, the pride in overcoming all that threatened to prevent you from making it, that no matter the outcome your hours of training and dedication got you to that line, and hearing those oh so wonderful words . . . “Kirsten Sass, You Are An IRONMAN”. Oh, yes. That is a dangerous thing to be hooked on indeed.

The next day was my daughter Bella’s 8th birthday. For years the one thing she has wanted to do was to swim with dolphins. So the next morning we packed everything up, and went out on a boat ride to see some dolphins. We did see a few up close, which the kids were really excited about - but unfortunately the water was too rough to actually get in. And, that was ok, because there was a little hesitancy about actually getting in the water with dolphins when it came right down to it.

Bella and Jeff - obviously not snorkeling, but I like this pic!

We were taken to a nice snorkeling area in calmer waters which seemed to suffice. And - we left a little something to do should we ever be fortunate enough to return. We wandered around the street market downtonwn for a while, had a nice meal together, then headed to the airport to begin the long journey home.

I can never say thank you enough to all of those who watched, cheered, sent good vibes and positive energy, and spent your day following mine. Every one of you crossed my mind at some point out on that course. Thank you to my coach, Suzanne Atkinson, who I present more challenges for than probably anyone (despite all my attempts to be low maintenance). Big shout out to Dale and Funston for taking the time with me and answering all my sweat related questions - and had I not done that it would have been an even longer day out there, if you have not had this done - you need to. Period. (https://www.buildpeakcompete.com/hydration/) And - to those who traveled to Hawaii and cheered me on, I cannot begin to tell you how much that means to me. My cup runneth over indeed. And, especially, to my family - helping me get my training in leading up to the race, staying out there and cheering until the end, helping me carry my bags during the long trip home, and putting aloe on my incredibly sunburned back - thank you. I am one very, VERY lucky girl. Finally, to my father. You were on my mind the entire trip, and especially during that race. Thank you for teaching me, and showing me, that Anything Is Possible.

My father, Volker Winkler, finishing the race in 2014

So - here are a few random numbers just for interest’s sake:

13 - years since my first Ironman Hawaii
3 - number of times I have done Hawaii (though I have qualified 4 times)
13 - number of Ironmans now completed

8 - number of World Championship races this year (including one as a guide)

8 - weeks between the first and last

And - that’s about all the number stuff I have. ;)

OK - and some pics!!!!

Caitlyn, Sebastian, and Bella

Jeff, Bella, Kirsten, Caitlyn, Fred, Robyn, Sebastian and Roman

The girls - who love birds!

Roman and Bella

Robyn and Bella exploring

With my friend Cleve (left) and Jeff at bike/bag check in

Cat Whiskers (kudos to Robyn for keeping the kids entertained while traveling!)

...and crow's feet :)

Mahalo for reading!

Feed the Good Wolf

Penticton - Part One

A friend of mine recently posted about this, and it has been on my mind since, so bear with me as I begin with a story . . .

There is an old Cherokee legend known as the tale of two wolves A grandfather explains to his warrior grandson that there are two wolves within each of us: One wolf is positive and beneficial, while the other wolf is negative and destructive. These two wolves fight for control over us. The grandson is curious and asks, “Which wolf will win?” The grandfather replies, “The one you feed.”

I am going to be honest, my “Bad Wolf” was howling loudly as I took off for Penticton. I got home around 3am on Monday morning after driving with my father straight from Omaha and USA Triathlon Age Group Nationals. I unpacked, cleaned, and repacked my race gear. I worked. I tried to get some training in. And I spent as much time as I possibly could with my family. Similar to the majority of people who traveled to Penticton, my travel arrangements were a little crazy. What sounded perfect months ago when I made them - not so much in reality. I left my house at 1:30 am, drove 2 hours to Nashville, flew to Atlanta making it just in time to board for Salt Lake City, was sitting on the runway in Salt Lake as my flight boarded to Vancouver, did the classic ‘run through the airport’ (because of course my flight was on the opposite end) and somehow made the flight, found my way to pick up my rental car, drove 4 1/2 hours to Penticton getting in around 6pm, and found my way down to the event venue where thank heavens Marc from Raceday Transport was still there and graciously let me pick up my road bike so I could do the course ride the next day. Whew.

With Marc from Raceday (actually in Bend, but one of my favorite pics)

     Meanwhile the howls went something like this. . . “Really? You are going away for 11 days?” “You should be home with your family.” “Can you really afford to take that much time off work?” “Why are you traveling all that way to race?” “Why do you feel the need to do four races?” “And why are you going by yourself when no one in your family is traveling with you?” “Are you really going to be able to find your way around and figure out what you are supposed to do?” etc. etc. etc. Yep, it was howling LOUD.
Thankfully, enter the good wolf. “Yes, I am going for 11 days.” “My family understands, they know that I love them, they respect my passion for racing, and they support me wholeheartedly. Yes, I will miss them and they will miss me, but we will be fine and it just makes us value our time together that much more.” “My work understands and supports me as well, and I will make it up by working longer hours when I am home.” “I am traveling to Penticton because I have always wanted to go there (my father and I had hoped to do Ironman Canada there together but alas it was discontinued before we were able to do so), and because it is the first Multisport World Championship - and I WANT to do it, and I’m doing four races because I CAN and I LOVE to race.” And, “I know other people who will be there, Team USA is hugely supportive, and I will figure things out eventually.” Scared? Slightly. But you know the saying:

So - Exit Zone

    At risk of being annoyingly repetitive, I have to say this again. Whenever the bad wolf howls and I allow myself to worry about what people think about me and my racing (bad mother, doesn’t work, races too much, etc etc), my good wolf’s reply always comes back to the same thing . . . You just never know. I see it so often - at work and on a personal level. You just never know when everything could change. Nothing is a given. I have a friend who loves to swim more than anything and one day received a diagnosis of ALS and is no longer able. I have friends who have been hit by cars while riding their bikes - or even running. I have a friend who had an earache that ended up being tonsillar cancer. I know people who had planned on coming to Penticton to race and were unable due to illness or injury.  You just never know. There very well may come a day when, heaven forbid, I am not able to race. When that day comes I want to look back and know that I seized every opportunity I had when it was presented. It is my passion, it balances me out, and it makes me very happy. Yes, I took time off and time away and spent money I probably should have saved, but it is the memories of the races and the people I shared them with, and knowing that I dared to put myself out there and toed that line, that I will remember. And I hope if that day ever comes, that will be enough.

OK - enough of that. PENTICTON!!!!! Beautiful Penticton. I was really excited because a friend of mine from Memphis who I know through bike racing, was here to do the draft legal race - Pam Tate. We met up for the Team Ride of the sprint course Friday morning, and she and her husband Byron let me tag along with them and join them for meals.

USA triathlon goes above and beyond for the athletes at these events - there are team massage therapists, bike mechanics, and a chiropractor (all of which were just amazing). There are coaches who talked us through the courses, rode the bike course with us, gave us tips on what to do (and not to do) to ensure a good race. Five star treatment all around.

The duathlon was Saturday morning - a 5k run, 20k bike, and then a 2.5k run. The run was along the lake which has a distinct ‘beach’ atmosphere with restaurants lining the way. The bike was 2 loops including a pretty good climb, and then a fast descent which looped around for a view across a beautiful vineyard and down across the lake - absolutely stunning.

I was very fortunate to have a great race Saturday. And it was very special to see so many other Team USA members have great races as well. I spent about as lazy of a Sunday as I could, and had a beyond amazing race on Monday doing the Standard distance duathlon - 10k run, 40k bike, 5k run (no drafting). The course was flat, fast, and fun - the crowds were fantastic, and by the time I rounded the last corner to the finish line I had given it all I had. Just an incredible experience.

There is something about a world championship race that makes it like no other. Perhaps it is all the travel involved in getting to the race, or just being in another country racing. Perhaps it is being out there racing for Team USA and encouraging each other throughout the race. I always try to take a moment to give thanks, “How cool is it that I am in Penticton, and able to race?”. And always, ALWAYS the crowds are unbelievable. Nothing like cheers of “Go USA”, and “Go Sass”, to make me smile a little bigger and dig a little deeper. And, of course, the BEST part of the race is grabbing that USA flag from Tim Yount or Lauren Rios, or any of the other Team USA members and carrying it proudly across that finish line. That is just the best.

Tim Yount - ALWAYS makes me dig deeper...

If you ever, ever have a chance to participate in a world championship event, it is so, so worth it. All the doubts, worries, and howls will disappear - I promise. The experience is just priceless.

And remember - always, ALWAYS feed the good wolf.

Omaha
Somewhere in middle America
Get right to the heart of matters
It’s the heart that matters more…

     Thanks to Tami Winston who sent me the link to that Counting Crows song - this was on ‘repeat’ in my mind for most of the weekend. Oh, Omaha. It was good to me last year, landing me on the podium for my first ever overall win at a USA Triathlon National Championship, in the Sprint distance. That was especially sweet because (apart from being totally unexpected) my coach, Suzanne Atkinson, had made the journey to come watch my races - so it was very cool to have her there for that! This year I was excited to have my hometown friends - the aforementioned Tami, and Gwin Anderson coming to race, and my father was meeting us there as well. However, I honestly had no hopes of repeating an overall win this year. While my training was going well I had a number of setbacks basically all summer which meant my ‘5k’ pace in training was more like my ‘10k’ pace. It was improving, but I was out of time. Plus there are always girls who show up for nationals that are just so, so fast; I had raced one of them at the Duathlon nationals this year - and my bets were on her to sweep both races. And, I was ok with that. I had already decided that I would race as hard as I could, but would be very happy just to podium in my age group - there are plenty of speedy girls in that division!

Race day for the olympic distance was just beautiful. Last year's blistering heat had given way this year to very mild temperatures. I was lucky to be in one of the early waves to start (in years past I’ve waited for hours to start - so I was very happy to start early!), and took my place on the dock. I just love how friendly triathletes are. Here we are, lined up on this dock at a national championship race, and everyone still takes a moment to give a high five and wish each other good luck. Just awesome. And - the race began.

I was happy with my swim, and headed out onto my favorite part - the bike. Oh yeah. The highlight of my ride was coming in and spotting my friend Gwin heading out. Now, there is one pretty good hill on the course, and when I met Gwin he was coming down the other side, but interestingly enough there was a guy wearing a red-white-and blue speedo riding one of those fat-tire bikes (I mean really fat tire bikes) just in front of him. Hmmmmm - surely that guy didn’t pass Gwin going up that hill?!?!?! I filed that away to be explored later….

Off the bike, onto the run - and there was my dad about 1/4 mile in cheering me on! That made me pick it up - let me tell you! It is very seldom we race together, but even less often that he is there spectating (neither one of us willingly chooses to spectate - we do much better racing as well), so that was such a special thing for me. I managed to have a solid run, and was thrilled to cross the finish line and hold up that banner. There were a couple interviews and a trip to the USADA tent for testing (which I love doing because I want that on my record at EVERY opportunity), and the whole time I was kind of laughing because I knew those girls in the later waves were going to beat my time handily. Regardless, I was really happy with my race because I felt I gave it everything I could have based on my training leading up to it. And - my dad was there.

Back at the hotel, my dad was on his tracker watching the rest of the race. "Oh, it’s going to be close", he told me. He started scribbling numbers and calculating - "I think you may have it". No way. Not a chance. But he was so excited to think so, I just kind of shook my head.

We met Gwin and Tami for lunch - unofficial results came through - "You did it!!!!!!" my dad told me. No way. I have a hard time believing any results until awards are announced . . . but according to the race timing - I had the fastest time. NO.WAY. How very ironic - there were years in the past that I felt like I had a chance at standing on that top step - but not this year. I hadn’t even contemplated it. But, it happened. And the best part? My dad was there.

Sunday morning. Parking is always crazy, and I am one of those people who much prefer to be an hour early and drive in by myself than sit in traffic for an hour worrying. So I was at the venue super early, laid my seat back, turned on some tunes, and just hung out. When transition opened I went in and got my tires pumped, but it started raining so back to the car I went with my gear. I didn’t even know it was supposed to rain?!?!? I was tired, and stiff, and sore, but today was like a ‘celebration’ race - and there is something about racing back-to-back days that I really like. It’s a test of the mind probably more so than the body - and I just like the challenge of seeing how I can overcome that. Gwin and Tami were heading home, and my dad was unable to race today for a number of reasons. With the race schedule and the drive home, I calculated I wouldn’t be home until 2am the next day, and he was supposed to ride with me - but I messaged him that if he would rather ride with Gwin and Tami I understood - it would be much more civil for him.

Gwin and Tami

As the rain continued to drizzle on, I finally put the rest of my stuff in transition and made my way to swim start. My swim start was later this time, with the younger girls finishing about the time I started. And, once again, far from hot it was closer to chilly waiting to start. Finally made it to the swim start, and again I was happy with my swim. Out on the bike, a little extra cautious around the corners on the wet roads, just gave it what was left in my legs. Off the bike, out onto the run - and there was my dad, right where he was the day before! That made my heart leap and put a spring in my step. "You gotta go, Kirsten" he called. "Every second counts", and then something about 20 seconds but I couldn’t hear. Well, ok. I didn’t have much left, but I gave it all I had. I turned off my mind, focused on my Bobby McGee run form - and just ran with everything I had for as long as I could. Coming back in there he was again, "GO, GO, GO!" he cried - and I went. I came into the finish line stretch - and I will never forget it. The crowds were going crazy, the announcer was saying, "It’s going to come down to the line, to the second" - and let me tell you, that’s as close to falling across a finish line as I have ever come. Once I crossed the announcer had me wait to do an interview - but refused to tell me the final result. He had me tell about my race and how I felt, and after it was all over told me that, indeed, I had won - by a matter of seconds. And, my dad was there. And he was SOOOOOO excited. And - I was just in disbelief.

I am 38 years old. I have 2 kids. I work. I had setback after setback this summer largely because I fell off my bike multiple times and had to take time to recover. I even got to the point that, for the first time ever, I sent my coach a desperate plea to help me through and keep me going. I came into these races knowing I was not where I wanted to be, but determined to give what I had. And - somehow, that was enough. What an amazing sport that a person can still find success against the odds. It just really blows me away. But you know, the best part is - my dad was there. The.Best.Part.  

Oh - and for the record, that guy on the fat tire bike? He passed Gwin….going up that hill.  However, Gwin assured me that he passed him back shortly thereafter....

Gwin Anderson - finishing it up strong!

Somehow I managed to NOT get a SINGLE picture of my dad and I together.  However, I have to share with you what was going on back home while I was racing . . . it seems that the National Championships fall the same weekend as the Elvis Presley 5k at Graceland, and in my household that seems to be the priority...

My husband, Jeff (right) and his buddy Troy (left) - Elvis 5k

My Sebastian

Meanwhile my amazing sister, Robyn, was sharing adventures with Bella!

 As always, thanks for reading! 

Ahhhhh Memphis in May. Triathlon weekend. One of my very favorite race weekends. Although I feel this story is getting worn out - I still want to share it again. You see, this is where my triathlon story begins. My first triathlon. 1999. 19 years old. My father excitedly signed me up. I rode on his old bike - and didn’t get in the aerobars at all. At that time there were over a thousand racers - and most of them passed me. And - most of them encouraged me on. The finish stretch of that race is across a grassy levee that overlooks the swim course, then down a little hill to cross the finish line - and I was SO proud to make it to that line! And - the after party… Live music. Memphis BBQ (of course). Beer trucks. Elvis. People everywhere - swapping race stories, tales of past races and those planned for the future - all ages and abilities. Suddenly a roar arose from the crowd - there was the final finisher, crossing the levee - escorted by Elvis himself, complete with a box of Krispy Kreme doughnuts. Everyone stopped to cheer as they crossed that finish line. I was inspired - I decided I liked this triathlon stuff. Maybe if I worked at it, I could even get a little faster.

My dad framed my race pics from that 1999 race - and I have them hanging in my 'tri room' - and still look at them every day.

I have done the Memphis in May triathlon every year since then, except for two. In 2007 my father, my husband, our good friend Jimmy Crossett and I all went to do Ironman Lanzarote, which fell the same weekend as Memphis. And in 2011 I was about 8 1/2 months pregnant - I’m pretty sure the race management was relieved I decided not to race. The Memphis in May Triathlon has been a big part of our lives. Jeff and I even used the DJ from the race (appropriately named Elvis - I kid you not), at our wedding party.

The race itself has seen some ups and downs. It changed locations from Millington, TN (just outside Memphis), to Tunica, Mississippi for a few years. Then, for a number of reasons, it ended up back in Millington. While the number of competitors has decreased, the quality of the competition certainly has not - and the race continues to draw amazingly talented athletes from the region. Driving home on Sunday after the race, I pondered what exactly it is that makes Memphis in May so unique . . . so here are the top 5 reasons why I would recommend coming to race . . .

1.  Elvis. I mean - it is Memphis you know.
I can remember when I first started racing, I was in University up in Canada at the time, and managed to convince a group of my friends to come down and do the race. The guys all grew out their ‘Elvis chops’ - then had the race Elvis judge who had the best. Funny story - one guy was so proud that he painstakingly shaved his chops into Elvis’s logo - unfortunately he ended up with TLC (vs TCB). Now, in a funny twist of fate, my husband has been the ‘Elvis’ for a couple years - and my pre-race anxiety only involves him remembering all the words to the National Anthem . . .

2. The Amateur Challenge
It is no secret that I like to race a lot. So, it is right down my alley that this race offers the opportunity to race a sprint distance on Saturday, followed by the Olympic Distance on Sunday - take the combined time from the two, and split a prize of $5,000 between the top 10 males and top 10 females. And - the competition is pretty serious.

2017 Edition

3. T-shirts
Every year the race pays tribute to a different country, and designs a t-shirt accordingly. They are always unique, good quality, and are some of my favorite, most worn race shirts. This year was Columbia.

The awards...

Bella is as excited as I am...

4. The Awards
For the award winners of the Olympic Distance race on Sunday, the prize is a glass pyramid with the design from the country of the year in the center. To receive one of those has always been an honor - and they are the lone trophies that my father proudly keeps on display in his office at work. 

I didn't get the 'big picture' of post-race celebration - but this is what mine looked like!

5. Post-race Celebration
The race has continued the tradition of live music, BBQ, and beer. We jokingly say that we first set up our ‘race transition’ but equally important is our ‘post-race transition’ of blanket and chairs in the shade near the band and food (and some years that has even been set up before the race transition . . . ). Over the years I have come to know more and more of the racers, and enjoy catching up with them afterwards - swapping race stories, tales of past races, and those planned for the future. And - we all stop to cheer as Elvis runs in across that levee with the final finisher.

The "King and Queen" of Memphis in May - Elvis with race director Pam Routh

I can’t tell you that the swim is in pristine waters - because it’s not. The roads are rough in places, and tend to flood if it rains too much. It can be hot and humid. The run is deceptively challenging. But the race is very well directed, the volunteers are fabulous, and it has a true family, grass-roots feel to it. It certainly has character, and continues to be one of my very favorite races that I make a point to do every year.

This year I am VERY excited to be racing on my first ever DISC WHEEL! I feel like I have graduated into a select club . . . Thank You Frank Rehnelt!

So - the races this year had some added challenges for me. However, I was able to complete both days, and I gave it the best I had. I enjoyed seeing my friends out on the course - and of course Elvis and my kids cheering me on always makes my heart happy. There were some faces missing this year that I closely associate with Memphis in May . . . my father was racing Chattanooga 70.3 with Gwin Anderson, Tami Winston, and Jimmy Crossett. I always think about Shane Long, Jack Dawson, and my dear friend Ron Turney (Ron - you would have beat me handily on both swims this weekend).

(L-R): My dad (Volker), Jack, Ron, Shane, and Lance - back in the day!

My sister Robyn and her husband Fred were missing as well. And, I always, always think of my Canadian friends who for many, many years loaded up, drove through the night, and spent the weekend with my family. On the flip side - it was really cool to know so many people racing - and share words (or nods, or just thumb’s up) of encouragement along the way. As I crossed that levee on Sunday, I took a moment to take it all in. The crowds, the finish, the memories - and I was just so incredibly happy to be right where I was, in that moment, back where my triathlon story began.

Out to the run!

Finish line - with my good friend George!

One more flashback - post-race party - my dear friend Colleen, Gwin, my dad, and Ron

If you are perchance interested in hearing more about my ‘challenges’ since returning home from Japan, and those that arose during the weekend’s races . . . I debated long and hard about recording them. However, the ‘rest of the story’ (seems my favorite phrase these days - anyone remember Paul Harvey news? I always listened to that with my dad when he drove me to school as a kid . . . but I digress) is available. You will have to go to my website -
www.kirsten-sass.com  and scroll down - it will be just below the Memphis in May post and is titled - 

“A Series of Misfortunate Events - May The Light Shine”.

Read at your own risk . . .

Saturday, April 29. I am driving home from Cary, North Carolina, after racing the Long Course Duathlon National Championship. Just as I’m stopping for food and a stretch, my phone rings. To my surprise, it is Ivonne, the girl I guided for in a triathlon earlier this spring. I hadn’t heard from her since the race - so I was very excited that she was calling. As it turns out, she was calling to inquire whether I would be interested in guiding for another visually impaired athlete - Amy Dixon. Well, sure! No sooner did I get off the phone with her, I received an email from Helen Phipps (who helped connect me with Ivonne and the world of guiding in the first place) - making the same request. Hmmmmm - interesting. Within the next ten minutes Amy herself contacted me. And here’s the story . . . this girl has been training like crazy in preparation for a race taking place in 2 weeks. Then she was notified that her current guide would not be allowed to guide her (part of the guiding regulations are that you cannot race as a professional triathlete in any ITU sanctioned race within the past 12 months - and her current guide had). Her backup guide had an unfortunate bike crash in Ironman Texas and was awaiting an MRI on her ankle. Basically, any other guide she had used in the past was unavailable - and she was faced with the possibility of not being able to race . . . simply because she had no one to guide her. Can you imagine? There was one slight logistical challenge . . . she was scheduled to leave for the race in 9 days - the location, Japan.

Wow. What a situation. I have to say, I am a big believer that things happen for a reason. I knew immediately that - if I had no obligations (i.e. a family with two little kids and a job) - I would have told her yes immediately, without hesitation. There is just something about guiding that I am very passionate about, and although I readily admit I am very inexperienced, I am willing to put in the effort and work to change that. However, I needed to clear it with family and work, so I told Amy I would let her know by the end of the weekend. I also let her know in no uncertain terms about my newness to guiding, and asked her to use me as a last resort - if any of her other guides could possibly help her their experience would definitely be more of an advantage.

     I am blessed with the most incredibly supportive husband. No sooner did I explain the situation to Jeff he was behind it 100%. Without a moment’s hesitation he told me I absolutely should go. He is amazing, and I don’t take for granted how lucky I am. Now, what to do about work? Again, I am fortunate that my job (and boss) is also supportive of my racing and opportunities - so we managed to schedule some extra hours of work in the week coming up in order to get the next week off. It indeed takes (more than) a village - let me tell you. I owe big thanks to my work scheduling department and my absolutely wonderful, hard-working, never-complaining, go-the-extra-mile nurses who helped me through the week. I gave Amy the green light, and as she had found no other guides available, on Tuesday I found myself with a ticket to fly to Japan in 6 days. Pretty crazy.

    So, as I have mentioned, I am still very new to guiding. In fact, I can count on one hand the number of times I have been on a tandem. And - I’m not a fan of doing things half-way. If I was going to fly across the world to help someone with a serious race, I wanted to be as prepared as I could be. All accounts said that the course in Japan was very technical on the bike. That was fine - except for my concerns with handling a tandem. I needed to find SOMEONE to ride a tandem with, to work on some handling skills. My brave sister, Robyn, was kind enough to ride with me before I went to race with Ivonne - and might I add that when she trusted me enough to ride with me it was the first time EITHER of us had ever been on a tandem. I knew I could count on her to help me, but what I really needed was someone experienced with handling a tandem who could teach me. I contemplated driving to Chattanooga (a 5 hour drive one way for me) to ride with one of Amy’s teammates - but the weather was iffy and time too valuable. Suddenly, I had another idea . . . a long-time family friend lives an hour from me, has a tandem, and is an experienced bike racer - maybe he could help me. So, I messaged Shane Long. This was Wednesday night - and incredibly it worked with both our schedules to meet the next morning. The day dawned grey and rainy, which was actually just what I needed to practice in. Shane was amazing - he took me around (and might I add he is the first person I have been brave enough to ride a tandem with as pilot), and I was able to appreciate the back-seat perspective. As we switched positions and I practiced cornering and turn-arounds I had to laugh as Shane made my favorite comment of the day . . . “Woah, it’s scary back here”. Let me add that was just when we first started, and he was more comfortable (at least I hope) by the time we finished. However, it still makes me laugh . . .

    And before I knew it, I was landing in Japan. Amy and I arrived on Tuesday night, checked into our hotel - and slept. Wednesday morning we did a little run together - which went really well. After breakfast my lack of bike mechanic skills were again blatantly obvious as I watched her put together her tandem.

And - let me tell you about her bike. It.Is.Amazing. She calls her ‘Bomber’ - she is a sleek, black, custom designed Calfee with Di2 shifting, and race wheels. A cadillac of bikes to put it mildly. Beautiful. And fast. We did our first ride together, appropriately enough, in the rain. Not only that, the practice course was on a cobble-stone type surface, slippery, and was probably less than 1/2 mile long with 3 turn arounds. For those of you who don’t like to do a turnaround on your bike in the middle of a 2 lane road by yourself - I want you to picture this: Raining. Wet. Slippery. Tight corners. Other riders in front of and behind you. Officials at every turn watching you. Barricades. On a tandem. With someone visually impaired trusting you. Now flip that and imagine the same scenario except you are on the back - and you are visually impaired. Riding with someone you have never ridden with before and don’t even know if they can handle a bike. I hope you get the picture.

    However, once again it was just the type of conditions we needed to practice in. And - we did not go down, or even come close to it. And, we felt a lot better having practiced. In fact, on Friday morning when we did our actual course preview, none of the turns seemed like a big deal at all.

    Amy and I hit it off right from the start. She too has an amazing story. She grew up in Connecticut, and by the time she was in her 20s she was a pharmacy student at the University of Connecticut by day and waiting tables by night. Then, things started to change. One evening, as she went to pour a glass of wine, she missed the glass. She found herself bumping into objects she simply didn’t see. At first it was easy to chalk it up to being overtired, “burning the candle at both ends” - school, work, studying, and little sleep. But things continued to progress - she started tripping without knowing why, and even missed steps taking several tumbles down flights of stairs. This seemed to get worse at night or when the lighting was poor. Her mother visited and was alarmed by the number of bruises covering her body, and knew something was amiss. Since childhood Amy had suffered from migraines, and as fate would have it, her neurologist refused to refill her medication without seeing her for a check-up. During the visit, Amy mentioned her strange vision issues, and when her neurologist tested her visual fields found her peripheral vision was absent. He immediately recommended that she see an opthalmologist. Amy stalled, her busy schedule with work and school did not leave time for another appointment, and she had no health insurance and really could not afford to pay another bill. Sensing that she would not follow through, her neurologist cleared the rest of his schedule for the day and personally escorted her to the specialist. What followed were a series of tests and consults ending with a diagnosis of multifocal choroiditis - a very rare, progressive eye disease that generally results in complete vision loss…blindness.

    Again, imagine the situation. You are 22 years old. You are in school, have a great job, a full and busy life . . . and suddenly out of the blue someone tells you that you are losing your ability to see and that within the next few years you will be blind. How do you think you would react? No. No way. Not me. I’m fine. I’ve always been fine. You must have me confused with someone else. There’s no way that’s happening to me. That can’t happen to me. You guys must be crazy. You’re wasting my time. I’m outta here.

    And, that’s what happened. Except, things didn’t get better. In fact, they continued to get worse. More spilled wine. Collisions with waiters whom she just couldn’t see. More bruises and falls and even a few broken ribs. Finally, Amy decided to seek the opinion of her long-time family doc (aka her pediatrician). She gave him the whole story, and he encouraged her to go back to the specialist. Still with no money and no health insurance, she saved all her tips and paychecks for the next 6 weeks, and made an appointment. The verdict was still the same. And, the treatments began. Numerous eye surgeries over the span of a few years. Medications and side-effects. Some left her sick. Some left her unable to move - resulting in her lying on her office floor until the security guards came to check on her. Some - lead to malignancy, melanoma, resulting in further medications and treatments. Yet, through all this she persevered. When the steroid treatments resulted in weight gain, she knew she had to take action. She started swimming and running - lost 60lbs, and found triathlon.

    And - that is the short version. Visually impaired, still plagued with migraines, and with bowel disease that has surfaced along the way (she suffered a bowel obstruction just days before leaving for Japan, ending up with a hospital stay), it makes “just” swimming/biking/running sound easy. Yet this girl refuses to be stopped. She trains hard, remains upbeat and positive, and is a true example of perseverance. There’s a gatorade quote I love that states, “You can throw in the towel or use it to wipe the sweat from your face” - well if anyone ever had an excuse (or 20) to throw in the towel, it is Amy Dixon - yet she continues to hold on fiercely and sweat it out.

    Race morning. Grey. Windy. Rainy. But - spirits were high. Really, at the end of the day, we were here. Racing was better than not. We had nothing to lose. Our goals - stay safe, have fun, race hard. And - we did. We had a smooth, steady swim. We stayed on course.

At swim course preview

We exited to transition feeling good. Onto the bike. During the first lap (it was a 4 lap course), coming around a corner we hit a slick spot and the back wheel slipped - it caught just fine, but it did get our attention. Then on the back of the course there was a really tight chicane of right-left-right, lined with barricades, and as I went to brake . . . we barely slowed. Hmmmmmm. “Amy - we don’t have much in the way of brakes. I’m just gonna warn you. So - the turns are going to be slow and cautious.” But - we did just fine. Every lap got a little better. We went hard when it was safe, and we kept the turns conservative. I got really good at avoiding paint and manhole covers - let me tell you. And - then it was on to the run. Just out of transition, Amy’s stomach cramped into knots. We had a 3 lap run, and despite the added challenge, Amy ran strong. She never gave in, never slowed, kept it strong and steady - and kept moving forward. She accelerated all the way down the blue carpet to the finish line - and crossed as a champion. Officially she finished 4th - but it was a win on so many different levels. We stayed safe. We raced hard. And - we had FUN.

I met so many incredible athletes over the 5 days I spent in Japan. People who fate has dealt a hard hand to - and who have persevered and overcome - who have made the best out of tough situations. I don’t know all the stories, and I certainly cannot begin to imagine all the day-to-day challenges - much less how those challenges are multiplied by doing a triathlon (think different prosthesis needed from bike to run, different chairs from bike to run, needing a ‘handler’ or someone to help you, the list goes on).

I am so very thankful to Amy for giving me this incredible opportunity, and trusting me to be her eyes. To all those who I met, and who raced in Yokohama - I have nothing but respect. Thank you for letting me be a part of it. I cannot even begin to tell you how much it affected me. Inspired. Humbled. Honored.

We seldom know why things happen the way they do. Sometimes we are given opportunities or challenges - and accepting them is not always the easy answer. But, sometimes you just have to trust your instincts, take a leap of faith, and… jump in with both feet.

For more about Amy Dixon check out her website:  http://www.amydixonusa.com

And some randomness...

Incredible floral display on the run course

Pretty serious about umbrellas....

...and their toilets. First place I've ever returned home from and been disappointed by our bathrooms....

And - also serious about bikes!

The beautiful red brick warehouse district - part of the bike course

The "Garden Necklace" - beautiful run course

Couldn't resist adding in my soccer players :)

Please allow me to introduce you to an incredible woman. Her name is Ivonne Mosquera-Schmidt. At age 1 she was diagnosed with retinoblastoma (retinal cancer), curable but with a steep price, the loss of both of her eyes. Despite this fact, she has tackled more challenges than most of us with both eyes and full sight. Growing up in New York City, she learned to dance tap, ballet and jazz with the National Dance Institute - and performed at places like the Lincoln Center, Madison Square Garden (NYC), and the JFK Center (Washington D.C.). She can rock-climb, cross-country ski, downhill ski, and hike (she has climbed Mount Kilimanjaro). In 2001 Ivonne started running, and excelled. She has done 14 marathons (including a 3:22 in the 2008 Boston Marathon), and currently holds the American record for Totally Blind Women in the 1,500, 3,000, and 5,000 meters.
Eventually she ventured into the world of triathlon, and again excelled winning the Visually Impaired Female Triathlon USA National Championship in the Olympic Distance from 2007-2010, and she also holds Paratriathlon World Championship gold medals in both the sprint and olympic distances.

Ivonne with her husband, John

When paratriathlon was excluded from the Paralympic games in London (2012), she switched gears and focused on her strength and passion - running. With her goal of making it to Rio (2016) she encountered a major setback . . . . experiencing extreme fatigue and other troublesome symptoms, she was diagnosed with a rare bladder cancer in May of 2014. She started chemo in July, and had surgery in November. Still not deterred, she went through her treatments and kept her dream alive, returning to running and competing in the 1500 meter finals World Championship in October of 2015. Yet another challenge reared its head when she began having pain in her left foot – and ended up with a stress fracture. Time was ticking, there were still races on the line leading up for a slot to Rio and a decision had to be made - run the race and chance the foot? The answer was yes - but sometimes a chance taken does not have the desired result, in this case Ivonne’s body had other plans and the stressed bone broke during the 2016 National Trials with 60 meters to go – but she completed the race and secured her spot on the Paralympic Track & Field Team for Rio.

Ivonne had to wear 2 boots because one threw her off balance too much - especially with trying to juggle crutches!

 Intensive rehab followed yet again, and in her tenacious way she refused to throw in the towel. Her efforts paid off - Ivonne made it to Rio and finished 6th at the Paralympic Games for the 1500 meters!!!!!!

After Rio, for a number of reasons, Ivonne decided to test the waters of triathlon again. Which is how our paths converged. She needed a guide, started asking some other guides, and eventually I was asked if I would be interested. This is something I have actually been contemplating for a while, and I tend to believe everything happens for a reason, so I jumped at the opportunity. Now, granted, at this time I had never been on a tandem bike (I have to admit, as much as I LOVE to bike, there just aren’t many people I trust with me on a tandem…..), and I sure had no idea what all being a guide would entail. That didn’t phase Ivonne one bit. She assured me I would be fine - and the race was on. I was still pretty nervous, and was kindly directed to a long-time guide, Caroline Gaynor, who took the time to chat with me at length, and gave me some valuable insight and tips - which made me feel much, much better.  (Check out https://carolinebikes.com )

So, the race? The CAMTRI in Sarasota, Florida. Saturday, March 11. My friend, Justin Lowe, lent me his tandem, and my sister, Robyn, was brave enough to ride it with me. We rode it twice - and it was time to head to Florida. I met Ivonne and her husband (John Schmidt) the Thursday before the race. I confess, I have never been around anyone completely blind before, and I learned a lot. The tandem they brought for the race broke down into 30 pieces. Now, my other confession is, I am no bike mechanic. I can clean my bike, I can change my tires, but for anything much more extensive than that I am more than happy to utilize my wonderful Gran Fondo Bicycles shop - or beg a bike mechanically inclined friend to help me with. So here is John telling me about how he taught Ivonne to put this bike together. Even taking pictures of all the different pieces so that if he wasn’t with her she could call him and he could look at his pictures, see what stage she was at, and help guide her through it. Yep, I was super impressed. And I witnessed it. And - I guess I have no excuses now. None.

So, Friday was our first chance to actually practice together. Riding the tandem. Running. Swimming. Let me tell you, paratriathlon was like entering a whole different world. For the swim, you have a tether between the guide and athlete. The rule is no further than a meter apart. But - there are no standard tethers, so the athletes are left to come up with their own device that meets the regulations. Ivonne and John basically used small dog collars (easy to adjust) which were attached just between the top of the calf and below the knee, and were joined together by several elastic shoestrings. We practiced a couple hundred yards out and around a buoy, me trying to match her stroke - her left arm with my right, and keep us on course. It was all good until we turned around the buoy and I had to figure out how to get her to turn with me - the tether being on our legs meant when I turned left it pulled her leg and turned her right. Good thing we practiced!

The tandem riding went well - kind of like a group ride where you point out the bumps and rough spots - except I was just talking her through it. “Bump coming up, curve to the right, turning left in 25 yards, uphill coming up, unclipping right foot, stopping in 3-2-1”, that sort of thing. We also had a slight uphill start - so we practiced that.

Then, the run. So, you also have to have a tether on the run, and can be no further than half a meter apart. We used race belts and Ivonne just clipped a carabiner to mine, with the tether joining the two. It was easy to see running is where she was most comfortable. All I had to do was help guide her through the turns, make sure to warn her where the bumps or rough spots were, and make sure she didn’t get too close to the edge of the pavement. Whew. I felt better having practiced - but I was still pretty nervous. I mean, it’s one thing if you’re racing for yourself and something happens – but I wanted to make sure Ivonne had a great race (and had FUN) - and I could only hope that my inexperience wouldn’t jeopardize that.

Race day. We didn’t race until after 2:30. Talk about a leisurely start. It was a beautiful day - upper 70s, slight wind, blue skies. We went through all the check-in procedures, set up transition, and were ready to go. So the visually impaired category is divided into totals and partials. There was one other athlete/guide in our “total” category, and several racing in the “partial” category. All still compete against each other, but the totals got to start first. Ivonne was called to the line, we took our place, and off we went. Things went really well - there were no sharp buoy turns, we stayed on course, and I was pretty well able to match her strokes. 750 meter swim down. Out of the swim, unhook the tether, and into transition. I put Ivonne’s hand on her bike handlebars and she knew where all her gear was. Then it was out on the bike. We made it up the hill (yay), and it was a 3 loop course (18K) with a winding section on the far side of the lake, and a straight highway, headwind section back towards transition. We made it through uneventfully, made our dismount before the line (yay), and back into transition. Change into running shoes, hook tether, out on the run which was a one loop 5K.

About 3/4 of the way to the turnaround Ivonne started to slow a bit. She mentioned maybe needing to walk. We were almost to the turnaround - so I told her. Now, yet another confession, I am not the greatest judge of distance. She - being a track runner, knows much better than I the distance covered. But - I could see the turnaround, so I made my best guess. I figured it worked, ‘cause she kept running to the turnaround, and even picked it up afterwards. Then she asked about a water stop. Well, there was one up ahead, so I made my best guess again. I tried to distract her by talking about some things I had seen during the race, but then she asked, “OK, but I’m wondering where that water stop is” - and I made my next best guess, then told her how close we would be to the finish when we reached it. We finally DID make it to the water stop, and then we were 1/2 mile out, so I just kept talking her through the course. She did amazing (and never did walk) – and crossed the finish line strong. She did call me out on my distance guessing afterwards, and we got a pretty good laugh out of it.

Ivonne ended up 4th, and we were both happy with that. It was her first tri back in several years, our first time racing together, and the whole goal was to test things out and have fun. I think we did both successfully. I have to say, I have the utmost respect for all those athletes. For those of us who race and get caught up in our pre-race nerves, and think our training is so tough - it is easy to take what we have for granted. For those facing obstacles that make every-day life a challenge and yet are undeterred, unstoppable, and refuse to be limited - that I find extremely humbling. Think about it, next time you go out to swim, bike, run, or walk; think about it when you wake up in the morning and it is completely dark and you try to get out of the bedroom and down the hall without turning on any lights and waking up the family. Imagine the courage needed to swim in unknown waters, bike without seeing the course, run without knowing how much farther you have to go - and the absolute trust you have to put in someone who is guiding you. That is pretty freaking brave. And that’s just my experience with Ivonne. My hat’s off to all those parathletes out there - doing what they do, triathlon and otherwise. You are incredibly inspiring and reinforce the belief that Anything.Is.Possible.
Thank you.

As a side-note, it seems there is always a need for guides - so if you are willing I would highly, highly recommend it. It’s an incredible experience. You will be inspired, humbled, awed, and grateful - in a number of ways.

Thanks for reading.

And thank you, Ivonne, for trusting me to be your "guide" - although it was really you who were guiding me.

It was SO fun to finish off my racing season, in Miami, racing with my father! He was doing the Aquabike in hopes of getting a Worlds slot - but I think mostly the two of us were just happy to be racing together. Last year I finished off my season racing the Duathlon Long Course Nationals with him - so it was nice to finish off this year with him too.

The weather was absolutely perfect. Not too hot, or humid, or windy - just perfect. And, once again, it seemed there were a lot of people I knew that were racing - which always makes it really fun.

The 1/2 Ironman and Aquabike nationals were both being held as part of the Miami Man - and after much back and forth with the race management, I was entered to race both. The 1/2 Ironman racers went first, and as I was doing the Aquabike I started almost an hour behind them with the Aquabike wave - which combined the men and women. Now, I have done a lot of races, in a lot of places, and a lot of mass starts - but for whatever reason, this one was one of the most challenging for me. I got dunked, pulled, punched, elbowed, swam over - you name it. I very nearly pulled to the side to let the masses go by just so I could swim - but I managed to hang in there until I got some space. It was a two loop swim, and going in on the first loop was straight into the sun - my goggles fogged and I could see nothing. I just tried to follow the splashes ahead of me and hope they were going the right way. There was a short run before starting the second lap, so I took some time to clean my goggles - and the second lap was SO much better (probably because everyone was ahead of me, but at least I could swim, and see). Suffice it to say - it was not my best of swims.

Bring on the bike. Which was absolutely fantastic. Flat, and fast. I enjoyed it - too much. There were a lot of girls ahead of me after that swim, so I knew I would have to put in a good solid bike to be in contention for the aquabike. So - I rode as hard as I could, and then some. But, it was great. I couldn’t catch the lead girl, but she’s a solid athlete and I am happy that she had a fantastic race!  Great way to end up the season.

So, in all my bright ideas, I really wanted to do the 1/2 Ironman as well - largely because the run went through the zoo. However, digging that deep on the bike left a toll - starting that run I knew I was in trouble. But - the zoo was awesome. The first lap there were about 10 giraffes all running alongside the fence right beside me. Of course, on the second lap they were gone and there was a tortoise who was moving faster than me . . .
For about the last mile and a half I found a guy running about my speed and we pushed each other on to the finish - that helped (and hurt) immensely.

By the finish my calves and feet were cramping so badly - I honestly have to say that I gave that race everything I had left after a long, crazy racing season. I was 5 seconds off the top women’s finisher for the half. It is one of the things I constantly say to myself when I’m racing: “Every second counts”. I said that while I was out there running, and knew I was slowing down. Did I have another 5 seconds in there somewhere? Maybe. But - it is equally true that had I tried to push any harder my calves would have completely locked up and I would have lost a lot more time. So, I have to conclude that I gave what I had at that time, I raced as hard as my mind and body would allow, I got to race with my dad, and - I got to run through the zoo!!!!  I really can’t ask for too much more than that!

That evening we met up with a group of friends in South Beach for a little dinner and post-race celebration. My dad (and most everyone in the group) got a slot for Worlds. And - that pretty well sums it up. Race hard, test yourself, spend time with your family, meet up with old friends, and make new ones...and when given the opportunity - run through a zoo.   It has been a great year. Life is good.

And . . . I am already excited for Penticton!!!!

California meets Tennessee - in Florida

John and Maday Lines - I owe most of my racing season to John's assistance - and...he beat me in the swim

My friend, Kevin Elmore (and his wife), who I raced with last weekend in New Orleans, also made the trek to Miami

NEW ORLEANS DRAFT LEGAL TRI/DU TURNED ‘DOUBLE DU’
THE THIN LINE BETWEEN AMAZING AND CRAZY

I would like to share a story with you. It is about a girl, named Kimee Armour. You see, Kimee has a burning desire to compete in the World Championship for Duathlon to be held in Penticton, Canada, in 2017. At the Duathlon National Championship qualifier which was in Bend, Oregon in June, she missed qualifying. Her only other chance was going to be at the Draft Legal race in New Orleans on November 6th. The challenge? She was entered to race Ironman Florida the day before… November 5th. Did that stop her? No. She prepared her Ironman gear, and packed a bag for the Duathlon the next day. She set an almost 2 hour PR for her Ironman, and hit the road with her husband driving from Panama City to New Orleans, and raced the Duathlon mere hours after finishing an Ironman. AFTER FINISHING AN IRONMAN. Most of us are doing good just to walk after finishing an Ironman….maybe just stand up. The race announcer recognized her at the starting line - and stated, “There is a thin line between amazing and crazy”.

Pre-Race - with Kimee

 As for me - well, I had a great time in New Orleans. The children are beyond their max allowable days of school missed, so Jeff graciously allowed me to go race. I met up with my friends Bruce Heiser and Dan Hammond from Nashville when I arrived - and they took such good care of me. Between the two of them we found some of the coolest restaurants with the best food off-the-beaten-track that you can imagine! Kevin Elmore and Marc Mone from Cali joined us on Saturday night - and it was a wonderful evening swapping stories and laughs (and a really funky restaurant).

Bruce, Dan and I after the "Tri" turned Du

Bruce, myself, Marc, Kevin, and Dan

And the races! So, the weather turned on us Saturday morning and the race mgmt and officials were faced with the tough call of canceling the swim. There were numerous upset folks, but I have to agree with the decision. While the water itself was swimmable, it was more the exit that was the deciding factor (as far as I could tell). With the chop crashing on the concrete embankment, there was a huge risk for getting people out safely. Could it be done? Sure. Could everyone do it safely? No way. It just was not worth the risk. So - the triathlon became a duathlon. 5k run, 20k bike, and 5k run. Ironically, the very same race that was to be held the next day. For all those triathletes that have been hesitant to do a duathlon - there ya go!

Beautiful morning . . .

Pre-Race with Rachel Capshaw

Draft legal is just a different type of race. The men raced first and it was fun to cheer on all the guys I knew racing and see how the draft format played out. In my race, running that first 5k there were several girls out in front and my ‘strategy’ was to try to finish with the lead girls and hopefully work together on the bike, then see what was left for the last run. By the end of the 5k there was one girl about 10sec up - I managed to head out of transition ahead of her and called to her to come and let’s work together on the bike. There was a short hill out of transition beginning the bike, and I slowed up to see if she would catch up -when she hadn’t by the top I just decided to go ahead. There was a pretty sweet tailwind for the first mile to the turnaround, and I figured she would catch up there. The turnaround came, and she was still behind me, so I just settled in and decided to ride my race. If she caught me, great - we would be able to work together. If not - well, what would be would be. It was a two loop bike, and there was a stiff headwind as well (the price you pay for a sweet tailwind). A chase pack had formed behind me, and I kept expecting them to catch me at any moment. Somehow I managed to hold them off and had enough of a lead to make it through the last run. Might I add - the crowds were just fantastic! The 2 loop course on the bike meant going by the main staging area several times - and the cheers helped SO much!

The guys - Bruce, Kevin, Marc, and Dan

My photo bomb attempt on Kevin - was laughing to hard though....

Sunday morning I have to confess, I REALLY enjoyed watching the men’s race. There was a group from Memphis that came down to race together - and I almost forgot I was racing I was so excited to see how it all played out (and they did fantastic)! My race ended up about the same - several girls ahead of me on the run, entered transition with one, hoped to work with her on the bike, didn’t work out, rode as hard as I could, expected to be caught any moment, somehow wasn’t, crowds were even BETTER than Saturday (including the Memphis contingent who stayed to cheer which REALLY made my day, and Tim Yount who I always love to see!), and in some unimaginable way, I managed to defend my win from last year!

The Memphis BPC guys

Pre-race with Pam Tate (also from Memphis)

 And, (yes I made you read all that to get to the main point of my story) Kimee Armour raced. She raced with everything she had left. Not only did she race, but she got her slot, by 42 seconds.

 And that, my friends, is what life and sport are all about. You find something you are passionate about. You dedicate yourself to it. You dare to dream, you push yourself, you test your limits, you do what others might deem impossible. And, yes, you may have to walk that fine line between amazing and crazy. Otherwise you might never know . . . nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Walk that line.

Anything.Is.Possible.

And a few more random pics . . . just 'cause:

The 'Best Seat in The House' from the restaurant Saturday night

Running across the levee

Saturday's podium

I may have mentioned this . . . but I really love this bike!

and this is what I came home to . . .

“The difference between possible and impossible lies in a person’s determination”.
Tommy Lasorda

I have a confession to make. The thought of doing an Ironman still scares me. Just the distances by themselves are a challenge - much less putting all three together. But it goes further than that. Not only do you have to make it through the distances - you have to have your nutrition and hydration dialed in. If you have the physical and nutritional aspects where you want them, then comes the psychological - pushing through the questions and doubts, being able to dig deep and keep going even when everything tells you to slow down or stop. And then you still have all the unforeseen uncontrollables - how do you handle things when they do not go as expected? And, you might as well plan on at least one unplanned thing happening - and a large part of your race is going to depend on how you react to and handle whatever is thrown at you.

I never, ever thought I would do an Ironman. My father had. I thought he was crazy. I remember after his first one (The Greater Floridian) - he told me how he was walking around that lake on the run and people were walking faster than him. He decided it was completely insane and he was going to finish it and that would be it for Ironmans. No sooner did he cross that line and he was already thinking that surely he could go faster the next time. It was just a few years after that we did Ironman Florida together.

Maybe it is because of all of the above challenges. Maybe it is because there are so few things in life that you invest so much time and dedication to that come down to a single day - and you have to take what it gives you. Whatever it is, when it all comes together and somehow, amazingly, you overcome and persevere and make it to that finish with the streets lined with cheering crowds and hear those oh so magical words, “You Are An Ironman” - there is no way to truly describe it, you have to experience it. My father told me, that is something that can never be taken away from you. Once you achieve it, it is yours forever. The rest of your life - whatever the challenges or obstacles, you can draw on the memory of that day that you were able to stay strong and accomplish something that most people never dream of doing. That is an amazingly incredible thing.

And - wow. Just - wow. Signing up for Ironman Louisville was somewhat of a last minute decision for me. Training for the ITU Long Course Worlds (OKC) I realized I was basically doing what I would have been in preparation for an Ironman. And I knew all kinds of people doing the race - my hometown crowd: Gwin Anderson, Tami Winston, Patrick Dilday, Bobby Baker, David Hatler, plus my friends Michael Ross and Jeff Fejfar. With OKC being my ‘goal race’ I figured I could do Louisville ‘just for fun’ and to do a race with my friends, no pressure, just see what happens. Never, ever would I have dreamed . . .

Tami, Gwin and I

Louisville delivered a perfect day. Clear skies, cool temps, downstream current for part of the swim, beautiful bike course with rolling hills so similar to the ones I bike at home, and a basically flat run course. Spirits were high as Gwin, Tami, Bobby, Patrick and I hung out waiting for the swim start - everything just felt like we were all going to have a great day.

On our way to the swim start (determined NOT to be cold!) - Tami, Gwin, Patrick and I

With Patrick and Bobby

So, in theory, this was all well and good - a great idea. However, in reality, there were a number of questions going through my mind. I had trained hard for the swim and run, but hadn’t really spent as much time on the bike as I would have in prep for an Ironman. I was two weeks out from my biggest race of the year where I had dug really deep mentally and physically - was I really recovered? Would that surface out on the course when things got tough? Would I be able to hold together for the distance or would I crumble on the run? Did I really have any business out doing an Ironman which I generally start planning for a year in advance? Yep - there were questions. My answer (that I clung to) was - what will be will be. It’s a beautiful day. I am racing a sport I love and my friends are out here racing too. I would much rather be racing than watching them on the computer screen. What better way to spend a Sunday than swimming, biking, and running with several thousand like-minded people (2,467 finishers to be exact) — with no pressure other than to complete?

I won’t lie - those questions came back several times during the day. Walking down the line to the swim start (Really, Kirsten?)... swimming around that island (Should I really be out here) - and each time I would turn my thoughts back to what I was doing - focus on technique, can I hold my form, let’s see if I can keep long and smooth right to the end . . . and I was SO happy to be out there!

In 2014 I did this race, and it took me until around mile 80 on the bike to start feeling good. So, I was really excited to START the bike feeling good. I just settled into a ‘happy pace’, and enjoyed it. Yes, the questions came up periodically, (This pace is good now, but will it be at mile 60? Are you going to be able to run after this?) but then I reminded myself it was a no-pressure race, it felt good then so just enjoy it and what comes will come...and I LOVE to ride my bike!  Was very excited to come across my Memphis Thunder friend Lesley Brainard out on the course too!  The countryside was beautiful, the crowds were great, and (despite my fears) I was able to hold it steady for the duration. I credit that largely to the awesome training partners I have in cycling, to my ‘local’ group bike rides and TN bike racing.

Have I mentioned how much I love my Merckx?????

Off the bike and into transition and the crowds were going WILD. Like, seriously - I have NEVER had such a reception into transition. High fives all around. What in the world was going on?

Into transition....

Put on my running shoes and headed out and everyone is yelling that I am 3rd female out on the course and that 2nd was just ahead. No way. Those crowds were so incredible (and I was feeling good) that it was all I could do to try to make myself run slowly. I spent the first 3 miles trying to slow down (and the remainder of the race trying not to). I even had a bicycle escort!!!!! 2nd place was indeed just ahead of me, but I knew I was still running faster than I should, and there was NO way I could hold that pace for a marathon.

So, I tried to exercise the ultimate rule of the Ironman - patience. Just before the first turnaround the number one female passed going the other direction, high-fived number two, and said “Come catch me”. OK - game on. I passed number 2 right after the turn, said, “Come on, let’s go catch your friend”. She just kinda laughed, but just before the turn around for the second loop, I did. OK, seriously, when you go through downtown Louisville with a bicycle escort yelling “First place woman” and the crowds are cheering wildly - it is REALLY hard to run your goal pace and not speed up. I was just shaking my head - no way could I be in first. With the time trial start, there is bound to be someone else faster who is just further back on the course. Plus - I still had another 13.1 miles to go - would I be able to hold what had already been faster than my goal pace? Certainly a gamble. But, heck, how could I NOT try?

I was fading, but having the time (and race) of my life so I just focused on form, drew energy from the crowds, and thought about all the people I knew watching for those time markers to show up when I crossed a timing mat (and telling me NOT to slow down - lol). I kept seeing friends out on the course that were having awesome races - and that was hugely inspiring. At the aid station before the turn I discovered my friend George Van Meter which was very exciting! I was slowing, by the last four miles I was seriously worried I was going to get passed. If nothing else I figured this was the best chance I would ever have to be the first female to cross an Ironman finish line, even if someone did beat me time-wise.

Slow and steady, I just dug as deep as I could, drew on every ounce of strength and support I could from the crowds, the volunteers (there were 3,300 volunteers for the race - amazing!), and my vast support system that I am oh so lucky to have . . . and I made it to mile 25 where the crowds really got going. I took it all in - let me tell you. First female - really? High fives, disbelief, and yes, some tears. Doing an Ironman still scares me - how could I have finished first? Breaking that tape at the finish was so incredibly amazing beyond words. THAT is the power of an amazing support system - friends, family, faith, belief, good coaching, determination, testing your limits, keeping it fun, and (maybe) a little craziness.

Anything.Is.Possible.

My friend, Michael Ross, waited at the finish for me!

With Jeff Fejfar . . . Hawaii bound!

And with Michael . . . also Hawaii bound!

As always, none of this would be possible without the amazing number of people who stand behind and beside (and in front) of me.  My husband Jeff let me come out and race with my friends.  My children (Bella and Sebastian) allowed their mama to do 'one more big race'.  My coach, Suzanne, shakes her head and calls me 'incorrigible' - but lets me go ahead.  My nutrition was never a question thanks the the incredible power of UCAN.  I was FINALLY able to try out my ROKA wetsuit - which was just awesome (and the first time I have ever escaped without chafing on my neck).  My Merckx bike (delivered back to me by Raceday Transport in time for the race) to which I owe huge thanks to Lynn Greer at Gran Fondo Cycles (Nashville) and Heather Rizzi (Have I mentioned I love that bike???).  And, of course, I had to sport my TN socks - thanks Swiftwick!  Brock Martin and Rena Schlegel - you guys help keep me functioning (sometimes I wonder how....).  And, quite honestly, I would not have done this race without the generous support of John Lines - I cannot thank you enough.  That's just the tip of the iceberg - don't think I take for granted the countless people who take the time to wish me well, send encouraging words, watch as the time splits appear, and cheer tirelessly . . .  you keep me going and inspire me to keep testing the limits - I am lucky beyond words.

Thank You.

I had such a fun weekend with these two. Thank you Tami and Gwin for letting me hang with you!!!!