peace out, 2023
credit: sportograf
When your first race of the season, is the last at the same time. Not by choice, not because you opted to sit on your bum for a few months or do something else with your precious time. You were still working, possibly even harder than before, to be ready to build whenever your stupid injury decides to let you go.
You see, nobody tells you it will take 10 months. At least not with the one that happened to me. Iliotibial Band Syndrome takes 6-8 weeks to heal for 80% of the people. What this means in practice - you have a rolling expectation that this should go away ‘anytime now’… until it’s months down the line and then you don’t know what to think anymore, but keep going blindly. I wrote about this experience extensively… enough now hey!
I am proud to have kept going, and I put in a lot of hard work, with the belief that I am still putting in the layers of becoming a better athlete, just by showing up with what I can, day in, day out.
Season’s goals were out of the window multiple times and it came to a point that daring to even think about completing a 70.3 felt like a wild dream. But wouldn’t it be great to be able to seal all this work with at least one result…? It would be amazing!
Racing at home is always special and since the IronMan 70.3 Greece moved to Athens (home-home) last year, it was an instant bucket list. Last year was not an option due to St. George WC a week later… then at some point when things were going well this season I moved my full IM from Spain in July to Portugal in October so again I was not going to do it. But here I was, deciding that a full IM would be totally stupid this year so a late season 70.3 would be my best bet! Also, given the money I had lost with all these shuffles, at least for this one I could go home anyway and have no commitments in paying accommodation or anything other than the race fee. Sweet!
I didn’t commit to it until early September, even then with reluctance but I was sensing I was turning a page after my last post (literally after I posted it!).
Surprisingly, running was coming back nicely, I couldn’t really feel the lack of running training I’ve had all season. Sessions started becoming challenging for what they actually were, not because of me trying to be brave and worrying about the injury. I was actually training again! You know, like when you actually ‘dread’ it because it will hurt… jokes aside I loved it and felt grateful every session, every single day of those couple of months. It’s what I love about racing, the whole process of building, body and mind, as you are counting down to race day.
And so we made it! I got to Greece, healthy and happy, but make no mistake - injury-wise this was still unchartered territory and the knee was about to take the biggest hit since all this rehab. There were never any guarantees that it wouldn’t suddenly come back to haunt me, either during the race or, even worse, after. After all, when it happened initially, I felt nothing at the time. So I had all these thoughts but I had upped my mindfulness game at the same time, as I do every time I build to races, and kept it cool, reminding myself I had done all the work and applied so many changes compared to a year ago. As the physio said, there was no reason for this to happen again now. But a race is a race so I knew I had to be smart as already next season was more important.
Race week was certainly different. I was at home in Athens with my mom - race weeks are typically spent in hotels in unknown places. There was an extra comfort but at the same time I actually had to remind myself I was actually about to race on Sunday! I just couldn’t combine these two concepts in my head.
The best part? My dear friends who decided to come and see first hand ‘what this is all about’ so we spent some fun time getting them ‘briefed’ on tracking through the app and giving me splits - I love it and appreciate it so much when people who don’t relate to this madness at all on a personal level actually take an interest and dive into my world, even for a day. It’s so special to have them there with me.
I was at the same time very relaxed about the whole thing (I guess that’s natural the more you do?) but also had some high expectations in case things did go well, just based on the recent training. After all, this was finally my first race without significant elevation on both the bike and the run, (which is, in itself, ridiculous!). At least the bike would be fast but the run was no less climbing than St. George a year ago - 200m over the half marathon. I knew exactly what that meant…
Come race day, the wind was blowing hard as I entered the transition area to get set up. A proper south breeze meant that the swim would be a tough one, then side gusts on the bike. I smiled. None of this mattered. I was finally there and I was ready!
My poor mom had to run around with me while getting ready and warmed up, carrying my bag until go-time. The girls arrived just as I was seeding myself to the swim start. Best boost ever, right before the start!
The gun went and we launched into the waves. This time, my strategy was to head out hard, but on my own to begin with, then only chase feet if anyone overtook me and seemed like a good speed to jump on. But not from the beginning as I did last year and both in Austria and St. George and ended blowing up and then slowing down and basically not enjoying the swim at all!
Two words: sighting and surviving. Seriously, with that kind of swell hitting you from the side relentlessly, going on a straight line felt like the main task. Speed had little meaning so long as some sort of effort was maintained. Honestly, I don’t know how, my headspace was so good and I actually have a good memory of the whole thing. But it was a real washing machine, I have no better words for it. Coming out, you felt like you had really conquered something!
Sprinting through T1 and all was smooth I guess as I don’t really remember much! My wetsuit came off easier than I thought as this was one of my concerns with it being a bit longer in size. Some things just work on race day.
Onto the bike I went which I was really looking forward to. The course is simply amazing, all by the sea and rolling hills that keep it varied and interesting. No actual climbing at all basically. A novelty for me, and the focus was on staying aero as much as possible. Again, the strategy was to not go too hard to begin with. A good warm-up would set up my hips and knee to perform optimally - a lesson taken from recent long TT sessions in training. However, only a few minutes into the bike and I realised how upset my stomach was from that swim… it took a while until I could take anything down!
One of the reasons I went out on an early swim wave was to avoid as much traffic as possible on the bike. From previous experiences, and especially on two-lap courses, racing to your ability (a certain power target) and doing it legally can really be a challenge, especially for women (we are so few compared to the men). As more and more riders keep slotting in front of you, you have to visibly pull back and leave a gap to stay legal . When this happens by a group of say, five men slotting in, the effort to overtake them is completely disproportional to your race and you’d have to burn some matches trying to do that continuously. And really only for them to overtake you as you finish that effort exhausted and have to slow down at the front. Not to mention the massive ego game they play when a. they don’t slow down as you’re overtaking, meaning even more surging to do that and b. they have to overtake again as soon as you’re at the front because, well, why would a woman be in front of them? Doesn’t matter if they’re on their first lap and you’re on the second as it sometimes happens!
Having made this surging and overtaking mistake in the past, I decided to stay back and take a little recovery every time this happened. But it only meant I was getting more and more dropped behind my main competitors. This really seems unfair for us - how are we supposed to race with some many people we’re not directly competing with all around us?
At the same time, the drafting I witnessed on the course was a whole new level, disappointingly. I even had to tell people off at some point, just stuck behind me, I mean… you can see their number, you can see who they are, how do people do this I really don’t get it. And then there were small pelotons out there. In some cases witnessing a female in a group with a dozen men. I don’t understand what officials were doing or how many penalties and disqualifications were actually given out but I it wasn’t too hard to recognise some people on the podium not having raced fairly. I did put this in my feedback to the organisers and that was that - there is really no point in letting it get to me. It simply reinforces how a women-dedicated day like we had in St. George was the only ‘real race’ I have experienced. Of course you can’t expect that on a small race where less than 200 women take part as opposed to over 1000 men. It is what it is! Or could we simply depart ahead of time, like the pros?
Back to the race then - all in all there were two things that happened on the bike that I think were definitive. My knee decided to say ‘hi’ on the second lap unfortunately, which got me worried and I immediately fell into plan B of simply ensuring I could finish the race. This meant I would not push at all from that point onwards in order to give me the best chances to complete the run safely. Secondly, I made a stupid mistake with the aid stations resulting in being left without water for a good 30 minutes. I wasn’t worried at the time as I thought I was well hydrated but…
I hit T1 with a 2:39 which was a PB but only due to the nature of the course. My average power and heart rate were lower than IM effort! But at least I thought I’d have a good run! Well… as soon as I bent down to put my shoes on I knew this was not going to be the case. Honestly, I’ve never felt anything like that pull on top of both of my hamstrings. As if I’ve been dead lifting for the past few… days! I could not explain it but told myself to not make any judgements until 2K in. Indeed it got a bit better and I started to feel like picking up the pace. And then, boom - probably the most intense cramp I’ve ever felt, on my right hamstring, brought me to a complete halt. First thought - this may be it today! But let’s maintain a good attitude and see what can be done… I started massaging and stretching it, until then my quad went as well! I literally could not move for a few seconds with the whole top of my leg seizing! It was surreal. I had taken all my electrolytes as per plan (minus the 30’ break), this should really not be an issue… I immediately downed my first salt tablet and somehow managed to get rid of the cramp in what felt like an eternity but I think it was more like 3’ total. At least I had rested a bit!
From then onwards I never really managed to pick up the pace, resulting in a 30” per km slower pace than what I had hoped and trained for. The hills were relentless (8 of them), with a total of 200m elevation. I’ve never felt so thirsty during a race ever, taking a ‘shower’ in every aid station and refraining from downing as much water as I felt I needed as I knew there was a risk of stitches going downhill, I could really do without them!
On hindsight, although it didn’t feel very hot (at least that you could tell), it was a very humid day. And I guess this is what humidity can feel like (I kind of wish I hadn’t found out this can be a possibility!). Possibly the mistake with hydration on the bike meant these muscles worked without being properly hydrated, even if not pushing high power. And I paid for it. Last but not least, my period was due the day after (I was really hoping it would come even on race morning, I’d feel so much better) which meant hydration was even more key so that mistake possibly had a larger impact than it normally would, I suppose. Can you ever really know?! All I know is that I’ve gone much harder on the bike in the past and have always ran well… oh well!
Patience got me through this run and I did feel I could endure this for longer as the effort level was never raised to 70.3. So there was no real ‘digging’ from that perspective, which is what in the past has brought the transcendence (physical and emotional) I always seek when racing. But hey-ho, although I didn’t get to enjoy that run at all (I was really looking forward to it) and didn’t race to my potential, given all the above and all that came the months before, this was a huge success. And having my mom and best friends there made it so, so special!
Now after a two-week break from swim-bike-run and a couple of weeks of easing in, I am really ready to let go of the 2023 season… I’d like to take the learnings, heal the trauma they have brought as much as possible and let it go, so I can start believing in myself again. Easier said than done but that’s the goal!
If you’ve read thus far thank you for sticking with me, and if you are one of those people close to me that stuck with me through this time, thank you again. I really couldn't’ have done it without you; family, friends, teammates, coach, healthcare professionals.
We never, EVER give up!