I didn’t plan to join the triathlon team. Although I occasionally swam and biked in high school, I thought I was satisfied with just running. In high school I ran cross country, indoor track, and outdoor track, and I loved the feeling of being on a team. When I came to Dartmouth, I wanted to find a similar group, which initially drove me to become interested in being a coxswain for men’s lightweight team (at barely 5’0 I thought the sizing worked out). However, I changed my mind when I met smiling captain Valentina at the triathlon booth who encouraged me to try out the triathlon team.
I quickly came to learn what makes the triathlon team so great, and that has kept me coming back for more ever since. Here’s a few of the reasons why I love being on the tri team:
Team breakfasts, dinners, pong tournaments, etc. are awesome bonding experiences.
Pushing yourself at practices is the perfect complement to a challenging academic term.
MUSCLES. Enough said. The constant rotation of swim, bike, run has made me stronger than I’ve ever been.
You get to experience an amazing team feel with dedicated coaches.
Now that I’ve been training with the team for a while, I can definitely say that joining was one of the best decisions I made in my first week at Dartmouth. The training schedule gave me some balance as I navigated my first Dartmouth term, and coming to practice every day served as an incredible stress reliever. I have vivid memories of sprinting across campus from my Math 11 exam with Katherine (another ‘20) to make it in time for tri strength, one of my favorite practices of the week, and running side by side around the track at track workouts with Russell (a ‘20 twice as tall as me who, by the way, is much faster than I am now). Tri team provided me with a network of friends right away, which made the adjustment to college a lot easier.
Winter was ironically my favorite training season, and I grew to enjoy biking and swimming in the comfort of alumni gym in 0-degree temperatures and running along Rip Road buried in snow. Wednesday night swims with Eliot were especially remarkable. They consisted of Eliot giving us crazy drills that left us all laughing as we swam down the lanes. Crazy as they were, they worked; I improved my technique and speed with every practice.
During spring term, I was on crutches for three weeks after attempting to run a half-marathon with no training over spring break (would not recommend). During this time, I swam with a pull buoy 5-6 times per week, coming only to swim practices. I truly developed a love for swimming during this time which allowed me to remain sane despite my injury. I kept in contact with the team and coaches which helped me continue to feel like I was part of a team. When I was finally able to come back to spin practices, it felt awesome to jump back in and be with the team almost daily, and it made me super excited for more training (and hopefully fewer injuries) in the fall.
I never get bored with swim, bike and run. Recently, over the past weekend, I had the privilege to go on the first ever tri training trip. Five Tri team members (myself, Katie, Moises, Matt and Erin) headed to Katie’s summer home on Coleman Pond in Lincolnville, Maine. Maine, it turns out, is a triathlete’s paradise. It provided the perfect environment to tackle all three disciplines. Although we biked, swam, did a fun bike/run brick, and swam, ran, and biked some more, we enjoyed a lot of non-triathlon-related bonding activities too. We developed the art of making a perfect s’more (pro tip: add Reese’s and heat the entire s’more up after melting the marshmallow), sailed around Camden Harbor, cooked delicious homemade pizza, and ate a Thai feast provided by Katie’s aunt. The training trip re-ignited my love for triathlon and as I build back my foot for running, I can’t wait to get even faster in all three disciplines with my teammates.
sbr
Carly
About the Author
Carly Tymm is a ’20 studying Chemistry and Engineering. She likes baking, breakfast foods and hiking with a huge backpack.
The night before our race, the two of us contemplated waking up at 4:30am to drive through a thunderstorm and compete in a triathlon in the pouring rain. (Throwback to the Season Opener.) Note: this course features a 2.5 mile, 10% grade downhill with vertical cracks and frost heaves so perilous that passing is discouraged.
Naturally, we decided to go for it.
In the morning, we woke up with the sun and made our way to Franconia Notch. While Sonia drove, Catherine enjoyed a smoothie that resembled "straight-up mud." Miraculously, the weather held up -- a perfect 70 degrees and overcast -- for the entirety of the race.
Despite some minor mishaps, including Sonia biking 5 minutes in the wrong direction, we were ultimately very successful. Sonia came in second and Catherine in third for all female athletes. This is where it gets interesting.
We sampled post-race treats ranging from muscle milk (hard no.) to "maple water" (soft yes…). So engrossed were we in taste-testing that we did not hear our names called over the loud speaker during the awards ceremony. Luckily, they called the women's awards a second time, later in the ceremony, commenting on the outstanding intelligence of Dartmouth students. At this time, we received our -- get this -- baby trees!
The rain gods were apparently on our side, as it began to torrentially downpour only moments after we drove away in Catherine's car. Luckily, the weather cleared just as we arrived for a short hike at the Flume Gorge.
There, we dazzled many a young family with our matching neon race t-shirts, Garmin watches, body markings, and Dartmouth Nalgenes. After a quick stretch in the parking lot, we hopped back in the car and were so engaged in writing this post that we got on the highway in the wrong direction.
sbr
Catherine and Sonia
About the Authors
Catherine Rocchi is a tri team ’19 studying Environmental Studies and Ethics. She’s passionate about climate change and fossil fuel divestment, and loves to spend her off days having outdoor adventures.
Sonia Rowley is a '19 on the triathlon team, studying Psychology and Spanish. She loves peanut butter/banana/honey sandwiches from Collis.
It was 8:55am in Omaha, and we were sitting hip-to-hip with our competitors, our legs dangling over the edge of the dock. After months of anticipation and training, Katie, Sonia and I finally had our toes in the race. We were smiling and laughing with the girls around us, though they would soon become our fiercest competitors when our wave took off minutes later. That’s just the magic of this crazy sport: when you’ve traveled halfway across the country to push your body through a two-and-a-half-hour, three-sport sprint, you just can’t take it too seriously.
After five long minutes, the buzzer went off and the swim began. The water temperature was 80 degrees on race morning, so it was declared a no-wetsuit race. This meant slightly slower swim times without the flotation power of a wetsuit, but it also meant we would shave time from our transitions since we wouldn’t need to rip off our wetsuits or change clothes at all. Besides the lack of lane lines, the lake swim almost felt like a pool.
While the swim looks peaceful to fans on the docks, in the water it’s a battlefield. Remember that pool game “sharks and minnows,” where the shark grabs as many legs as she can while the other kids scramble to cross the pool? The swim leg of a triathlon is just like that game, except everyone is a shark and it lasts for a mile. I fought my way to the first buoy, and Sonia got stuck between two swimmers, claiming that at one point she “rode on their backs” as she found herself in their line of motion. We circled the buoys to complete the mile, Sonia and I coming in at 27 minutes with Katie close behind.
Sonia and I ran to transition together and cheered each other on. Soon, we were running with our bikes to the bike mount line. Sonia started just ahead of me and Katie, quick as a whip, passed me within the first couple miles. The bike is my worst leg of the triathlon by far, so my goal was just to hang on to a 20mph pace and try to hold my position for as long as possible. I was only successful until the turnaround – when my lack of speedwork caught up to me –, but I still finished the bike leg in my goal of an hour twenty. Katie and Sonia finished the bike leg in 1:10 and 1:14, and I cheered them on the start of the run as I sprinted to transition.
By the time I got to T2, it was almost 11 and already 80 degrees. It was hot, and you could see it on the red faces of all of the runners. I followed Sonia’s advice and dumped a cup of water on my head at each aid station. At one, the volunteer handed me the paper cup and called out “wait, that’s a block of ice!” as I ran away, but I’d already poured it, the ice melting on my head. It felt great.
My run was a blurry mix of bliss and pain, and I couldn’t help but smile. There we were in the middle of Nebraska, running down country roads with some of the best amateur triathletes in the nation – and they were all just as excited to be there as we were. I crossed the finish line six minutes ahead of my goal time with Katie, Sonia, Jeff and my dad all waiting at the end. Katie had finished in 2:26:53, coming in an incredible 7th in our age group. Sonia finished in 2:32, coming in 16th. I came in at 2:39, finishing 25th.
That night at the awards ceremony, Katie took to the podium, standing with the top finishers in our age group. She also found out that all three of us had qualified for Worlds in 2018 in Australia. The next morning, Coach Jeff had an amazing race in the Sprint, coming in hot at 1:13:51 and finishing 7th in his age group. Talk about a coach that can do both! Jeff guided us through our race-day prep and cheered us on throughout the race, only to wake up and absolutely crush his own race the next day.
Two years ago, I raced Nationals in my Dartmouth kit, but I competed mostly for myself. I could’ve never imagined how far our team has come since then. At the finish line, we met an alum, Gabriel, who was racing, too. Maybe that’s why I never stopped hearing “Go Big Green” throughout the race, both from strangers and friends. It propelled us forward, pushed us to dig even deeper and put smiles on our faces in the toughest (and hottest) moments. I think it’s safe to say that Dartmouth made a splash at Nationals this year.
Now for a few huge thank yous: First, dad – you’re the best cheerleader in the game (thank you for flying to (the most exotic) midwestern cities with me)! Jeff – you are a saint for driving to Omaha by yourself with our bikes so that we could have the perfect race set up. I’m not sure how we will ever repay you! Jim – this summer, when the devil on my shoulder told me to stay out on a Friday night and skip a Saturday double-day, I’d remember the joy of the TrainingPeaks box turning green and knowing you’d see me kicking butt in my workout and the devil would pipe down. Thank you for thoughtfully writing training plans that made all three of us fit and confident for raceday!
SBR,
Emma
About the Author
Emma Sklarin is an '18 on the tri team studying Creative Writing, Environmental Studies and Spanish. She loves exploring, boogie boarding and a great post-race beer.
During our orientation to Buenos Aires, our study abroad coordinator did her best to prepare us for living in this city. “Los carros son asesinos," she warned us, “y los perros dejan regalitos en las veredas.” She also warned the girls that Argentine men are more forward than we’re used to, that they call piropos (compliments/cat-calls) to women on the street. After nine weeks of running in the city, I can confirm: the cars are “assassins,” the enormous dog population has a tendency to leave “little gifts” on the sidewalks, and the men stare. I’ve stopped wearing my contacts on runs; my eyesight is adequate for avoiding dog poop and dodging asesinos, but fuzzy enough that I don’t notice all the sideways glances.
Biking and swimming, too, have required some adjustment. I’ve learned which spin instructors speak in Spanish I can understand and which don’t. I’ve learned that personal space is a non-issue at the gym, that someone might sit on the floor directly in front of my bike to wait their turn, or lean on my handlebars to chat to the person next to me. I’m still figuring out lane-sharing etiquette in the pool. Split the lane or circle swim? Chat during breaks or pretend the other person doesn’t exist? Pass or wait?
Argentina, in general, is keeping me on my toes. Every day is different: I learn something, I see something beautiful or surprising, I smell something new (and I sometimes wish I hadn’t). Every week’s schedule looks different. Tango lessons, museums, food fairs, plane flights, mountains, glaciers, waterfalls. There is no routine. I feel different, too; in Spanish, I express myself and relate to others differently. Sometimes, I don’t recognize my own voice.
Although running, biking, and swimming in a foreign country presents its own challenges, more than anything, these activities provide much-needed familiarity and routine. When I left for Argentina, I didn’t intend to prioritize training. I worried that it would hold me back from experiencing all the newness of this place and this culture. I have found, though, that a daily commitment to triathlon gives me the energy and peace of mind to engage more fully in the rest of my day. It helps me feel grounded. My heartbeat and my breath sound the same in any language.
In several weeks, I will return to Dartmouth with a new appreciation for the challenge and the satisfaction of triathlon training. More than that, though, I will return with a deeper gratitude for the team. As I train alone, I’m realizing that half of my love for this sport is actually a love for the Dartmouth triathlon community. I miss group ab sessions, collaborative spin workout playlists, and team dinners.
Sending you all my love, Dartmouth Tri. Looking forward to open water swims in Storrs, long rides up and down the Upper Valley hills, and windows-down road trips with the bikes bungeed out back.
sbr,
About the Author
Sonia Rowley is a '19 on the triathlon team, studying Psychology and Spanish. She loves (and currently misses!) peanut butter/banana/honey sandwiches from Collis.
Saturday morning looked a lot like a race morning. There was the insomnia, the 4:30 am alarm, the oatmeal, banana, and peanut butter breakfast, and all the gear laid out the night before. There were butterflies in my stomach, and a nagging voice in the back of my head saying, “Are you sure you want to do this?” As it does on real race mornings, that voice had a point. You have to be a little crazy if you’re totally gung ho about biking 100 miles.
But Saturday was different from any of the races I’ve done in one important way. This time, there would be no clock. The only “winners” would be participants who fundraised the most, and the only thing we were trying to beat was the stormy forecast. That thought pushed me out the door, wheels rolling at 5:32.
The Prouty is a major fundraiser for the Friends of Norris Cotton Cancer Center that takes place in Hanover every year. Thousands of participants set fundraising goals and can bike, hike, row, or golf. There are incredible volunteers, generous sponsorships from local businesses, and good vibes all around. Since it began in 1982, the Prouty has raised over $30 million for cancer research and patient supportive services.
This was my second year doing the Prouty’s century (100-mile) bike ride, and I was excited to be back with a lot more experience, a great bike, and a (hopefully) better forecast. Before the 2016 Prouty, I had never biked more than 35 miles at once, and I was using a hand-me-down bike from Walmart. It also poured rain for the first 30 miles, which left our group nearly hypothermic for the rest of the ride. This year, I had biked a lot more on a new bike in preparation for a Half Ironman in June (check out our Patriot Blog Post!). The forecast was still iffy, but it looked like the rain would hold off until midday. I felt about as prepared as I could be to finish the ride.
Early in the week, however, we were bummed to find out that during a huge thunderstorm, many of the roads along the route were completely washed out. The 100-mile route became a 76-mile loop that avoided the damage. We heard that some riders were planning to repeat parts of the course to make it to 100 miles, though, so we kept that in the back of our minds as we set off.
I rode with Sonia and Catherine (congrats to Tucker and Emma M., other team members who participated as well!) and we made it through 67 miles of partly cloudy and not-too-hot weather, beautiful rural roads and rolling hills, several SAG (stop-and-go) snack stops with fresh fruit, water, awesome homemade granola bars, and less-awesome chickpea/coconut oil brownies, and great conversation. We took turns pulling (riding in the front so everyone else can draft behind and use less energy), and said hello to the hundreds of bikers we encountered along the way. When we made it back to the SAG in Lyme, NH, nine miles from the finish, we overheard someone saying that the storms wouldn’t start until the late afternoon. We felt great, so we headed straight back out the opposite direction, invented our own loop around the beautiful Lake Morey, and made it back to the Lyme SAG again at just over 90 miles. We were 100 bound!
Now, would a Triathlon team blog post be complete without a shocking turn of events? Obviously not. As we started our ascent out of Lyme, the skies opened up and we got caught in a torrential downpour, complete with thunder and lightning. Catherine had to pull over because the sunscreen running into her eyes was blinding, and Sonia couldn’t see through her contacts either. We spent a few minutes huddled under someone’s porch in an attempt to wait out the storm, but the rain was only coming down harder, and we were getting cold. We told each other that we just needed to get to the finish line, where we would hop off our bikes, take a quick picture, hop right back on, bike the mile back to campus, and head straight into hot showers. We weren’t even going to stop for the amazing post-race lunch. Determined, we set off again.
Miraculously, as we passed the Dartmouth organic farm and reached the “one mile to the finish” sign at the bottom of a huge hill, the rain stopped. Possibly in surprise, Sonia changed gears too fast and her bike chain popped off. Luckily, she did some quick roadside bike maintenance and fixed the chain, turning her hands completely black with grease in the process. Starting with no momentum whatsoever, we climbed that final hill and rolled across the finish.
We took our post-race picture, told each other we would do a “quick lap” around the food tent, and proceeded to eat almost everything in sight before riding back to campus at a walker’s pace. There were no age-group awards to stick around for and no times to analyze, but the awesome post-race feeling that’s equal parts accomplishment and total body soreness was still there. And this time, we got to experience that feeling after spending six hours bonding with each other, enjoying beautiful scenery, and meeting new people. So even though there was no official winner this time around, I think we can all agree that events like the Prouty are a win-win for everyone.
s B r
Katie
About the Author
Katie Clayton ('18) is a tri team captain studying Government and French. She loves cooking, the color purple, Maine wild blueberries, and summer.
As I stood at the start line of the CHaD, I went over my race plan in my head - First 7 km at a talking pace, next 7 km at race pace and the final 7 km give it all you got. The race director and the head of the Children’s hospitals gave announcements and speeches, however I could only focus on the race ahead, on my plan and my strategy.
Moments later we were off. Deep, deep into my own race and head, for the first few kilometers, I focused on my form, and repeatedly reminded myself to not go too fast. Conserve your energy, you can catch up later, you can do this.
These thoughts, however, were abruptly interrupted moments later by the words “how you doing?”. Being so focused on my own race, I hadn’t noticed two men that was running beside me. I was startled… talking to people was defiantly not in my race strategy, but I breathlessly replied that I was doing alright. We ran the next few kilometers together, chatting here and there.
Soon we had passed the first 7km mark, and one of the men had dropped off, leaving me and the pacer. We then started to talk strategy together. He planned out the rest of the race as if we were a team. Telling me that we wanted to come back into New Hampshire strong and really work the hills. He helped me grab the water and Gatorade handed out by volunteers on the side of road, and ran ahead to make the crowds cheer as I ran by.
The last 7 km were some of the hardest I have ever ran in my life. I thought at some points that I was going to have to stop, that the grueling hills of the Upper Valley had gotten to me. However, I turned to my partner for support. He urged me on, and pushed me through right to the finish line.
A race that I thought I was going to run alone, and a sport that I previously thought was an individual sport turned out to be a team effort. The pacer, whose name I never even had the chance to ask, made me appreciate running and racing in a whole new way. He broke me out of my head, and made me appreciate the surroundings. I took in the entirety of the course, the volunteers and my triathlon teammates cheering me on, the beauty of the course, and the signs on the side of the road reminding us that we were running for a greater cause.
My partner made me realize that accomplishing something as a team is so much more fulfilling than accomplishing something by yourself and for that I am truly grateful.
SBR,
Charlotte
About the Author
Charlotte is a 19’ who has been on the triathlon team since her freshman year. She is pre-med and studies geography. She loves travelling, and spending time with her friends and family.
Tri team is so lucky to have three awesome coaches, Jeff, Jim, and Eliot, supporting us and pushing us to be better athletes and teammates.
Jeff Reed (’76) joined our team just over two years ago at the urging of former captain Kelly (’16), a friend of Jeff’s stepson. Kelly knew that Jeff was an avid triathlete himself, and seeking some extra guidance for our growing team, recruited Jeff to help us out. Despite 25+ years of coaching lacrosse, Jeff says he was hesitant at first to take on the roll only because he felt “woefully unprepared.” He quickly proved himself wrong, and became a central part of the team, volunteering his time at almost all of our practices. Jeff helped us set bigger goals for ourselves, taught us new bike routes, and encouraged us through many practices and races.
As a 4-year member of the tri-team, I can attest to the huge impact that our wonderful coaches have had. When I first started on the team, we were entirely student run. Though our awesome ’15 Tri Team founders, Nina and Sara, helped us through our first races, having a coach has made a substantial difference in the preparedness and expectations of the team. With Jeff’s help, we’ve developed more targeted workouts and established our baseline heart rate and power thresholds. At races, we know that someone will be there to look out for us, help solve any last minute problems, and cheer us on. Just as importantly, Jeff has gone out of his way to make each member of the team feels welcome, challenged, and supported. When old injuries have flared up, Jeff has helped me figure out how to balance training for the Season Opener without making it worse. When Jeff and three of our teammates competed in USAT Nationals this summer, Jeff drove all four bikes across the country. When we wanted to hold an end of the season banquet, Jeff volunteered his house. Most recently, when over 30 ‘21s joined the team (!!!), Jeff led a power test and made individualized power reference cards for all of our new members to use during spins. We are so lucky to have Jeff’s endless support!
When asked about Tri Team, Jeff says it has been “really awesome” and has surpassed his expectations. He points to the motivation and organization of the team as key features that have made his job more enjoyable and fun. Jeff has loved participating in team events, from the first race he attended as a coach (to Cranberry Trifest) to our recent team hike up Mt. Cardigan. We all love post-strength team dinners with Jeff at Foco! When Jeff isn’t helping us train, you can find him preparing for his own races, including a recent journey to Worlds! Jeff describes the experience as lots of fun, and is especially passionate about the community of friends that the sport has connected him with. A true competitor at heart, Jeff also loves any other form of athletics/competition, including crushing his daughter in Monopoly :).
Thank you, Jeff, for your endless dedication to the team! We couldn’t do it without you!
About the Author
Arielle Isaacson is an ’18 studying Anthropology Modified with Global Health and Neuroscience, and is pre-med. She loves spending time outside with friends, scuba diving, and snuggling with her dog!
Katie, Abiah and I are in the tiny bathroom of a motor shop attached to the gas station in Lyme, NH. We are stifling yelps and holding back tears as we clumsily peel off our bike shoes and sopping socks with our numb fingers. We hop in place and fling our arms around as we try to get the blood circulating again after 2 hours in the freezing rain, wind, and barely 40-degree weather. We have been up since 5am to have breakfast before an hour-long swim. It’s our first Big Weekend, the training days that most simulated the actual race in distance and time. We still have another hour of biking and a few miles to run according to our TrainingPeaks plan, but all we can think about is whether we are going to brave the next few minutes and get back on the bike. By this point in the day, we have already thought of everyone we could possibly call to pick us up, cried, turned blue, desperately longed for our warm beds and showers back in the dorms, and thought way too many times about quitting. Nevertheless, once our toes turned pink again, we put our bike shoes and helmets back on, and got back on the bikes to finish the workout.
It was this day that we not only earned major credit in the triathlon world (at least in the books of our coaches), but also proved to ourselves how serious we were about training for the IronMan 70.3. It all began after the CHaD half marathon in October 2016 when we met as the 70.3 group with our coach Jim in the comfy couches of the gym lobby to get our TrainingPeaks accounts (platform for triathletes to plan workouts and build training plans) and learn about Zone 2 training. The first months of our training were fairly monotonous; we had to learn the art of working out with a heart rate cap for a really long time. For Abiah, this meant being satisfied without a high energy and intensity workout despite the stress of her last term at Dartmouth. For Katie, this meant spending nearly every early morning in the pool before her internship. For me, this meant running several times a week at a pace that she could probably walk faster than. Bit by bit, the 10 to 15-hour long training weeks filled with biking on the trainer, running in the snow, and swimming indoors passed and we saw progress in the things that challenged us most. Katie almost finished the West Wing (five and a half seasons watched exclusively on the trainer), I trained the dog to run up to 8 miles with me (Felix started at 0 miles running), and Abiah enjoyed being able to eat much, much more. Despite being in constant communication via TrainingPeaks comments and Skype with our coach Jim, we all really looked forward to being back on campus to be able to spend the long hours together.
Our spring training looked very different from the winter. We now also juggled team practices with our own training schedules, and had to work around spending time with friends, classes, studying, tri team logistics, and the many other things that make up our day to day at Dartmouth. Nonetheless, the balancing act we took on was very worthwhile. Our spring was filled with wonderful time outside exploring the area and finally actually sbr-ing (swimming, biking and running- in that order). Some highlights from our spring training are:
Alpacas, cows, horses, sheep, goats, chicken, rabbits, chipmunks, squirrels, birds of all types, dogs, cats, turkeys, foxes, loons, porcupines… we saw so many animals!
Beautiful spring flowers and endless blue skies with our to-do lists more than thirty miles away
Loops around the lakes in the area, especially Lake Morey and Lake Fairlee
Realizing we were more than 50 miles into our bike ride and feeling great… there were many moments when it hit us that we were getting faster and training was working!
Endless back and forths on Route 10/ Lyme Road and Route 5, the “five and dime” loop
Hills: we loved those days where Jim just wrote in our TrainingPeaks “Go ride hills, lots of them!” … the Upper Valley is a perfect place to train!
Post Pond open water swims… especially at 5:30am and having the smell of breakfast cooking at the inn by the water waft across
Seeing the TrainingPeaks boxes turn green after a completed workout
Long runs in the snow and running nearly any and every road in the Hanover area
Discovering that endurance/ Zone 2 training sessions were perfect workouts to talk with someone on the phone or listen to podcasts
Wetsuit practices in the pool with our teammates (with buoys made of water polo balls)
Figuring out nutrition on the bike: learning how to open wrappers, eat, and pedal all at once… discovering yummy sports waffles and regretting bringing PB&J sandwiches
Finally understanding how wonderful bike shirts with pockets are
Having other teammates join us for parts of our longer workouts (thanks Catherine!) or biking to the Organic Farm as a big group or finding new routes in Etna (hey Arielle!)
Syncing up from so much time spent together that we were able to know what the other person was thinking before they said anything
6am Eliot Swims with other triathletes in the community
Early mornings and learning how to best fit doubles, food, and school in one day
Katie’s new tri bike that allowed her to fly (or get as close to it as possible!)
Sprinting for the first time in months in the Season Opener duathlon
As much fun as it was, there were some moments in the term that were pretty tough. Abiah was in her senior spring with lots of plans, and Katie and I both had extremely difficult course loads, so there were days were making training a priority was nearly or actually impossible. By the end of the spring term, Abiah put in many more hours training by herself because schedules didn’t always work out. I never was able to get the amount of rest or sleep that my body needed to properly recover. And Katie would have to work on group projects at 5am during the digestion time between breakfast and a morning workout. About a month before the race, I had a bike accident while we were on a bike ride all together. Fortunately nothing serious came of it and I only hurt my arm, had a bad road burn on my leg, and gave my bike a few boo-boos. It was still challenging though to figure out how to return to training (with bandages & ibuprofen) while giving my body time to recover. The tiredness I felt at that point in the term paralleled the way we had to do force ourselves to study and work despite the growing exhaustion we felt after Big Weekends and high volume weeks. It was hard to be training as much as we did and have schedules filled with an intense load of classes and things that wouldn’t give.
There were also some workouts that really challenged us. We had workouts in the extreme cold (like that first Big Weekend “adventure”) and in the brutal heat that left us all sunburnt, dehydrated and defeated after long miserable runs. At one point Abiah even had to head indoors to the treadmill to finish a Big Weekend run. Learning how to properly fuel for longer and longer workouts was also difficult and I learned what it is like to bonk/ hit the wall.
But it was especially all of these not-so-great parts of our training that made anything seem achievable during this nearly nine-month long training journey. We went through the good and the bad together. Having each other to laugh, talk, complain, and ask questions to made finding the resolve within us to stick to the training plan and do the workouts so much easier. We trusted Jim completely as we followed his training plans and built up our fitness day by day. It became really fun to learn the tri world lingo and more about ourselves, share our adventures with our other teammates, or do crazy things like doing more distance and working out for longer than even the IronMan 70.3 we were training for. Really, I think these months of pursuing a dream goal became a way for us to find a sense of empowerment in an emotional, physical and mental sense of well-being. I know for a fact that I couldn’t have crossed those 70.3+ miles without the endless support from Jim, Katie, Abiah and the rest of my teammates and coaches who just understood what was going on in my head during these months of training the way no one else was able to.
The Race: Katie
Although almost seven months of consistent training had prepared us physically for Patriot, we were nervous. Actually, nervous is an understatement. We spent race week obsessively texting each other about what to pack, what to eat, and what it would be like to cross the finish line (or whether we even wanted to cross the starting line). It didn’t help that our workouts were getting shorter and shorter, and we were facing athletic-induced endorphins withdrawal. I owe a big thank you to anyone had the misfortune of interacting with me during that time and still came to watch the race (thanks Connor!).
Even our workout sessions the day before, which took place on parts of the actual race course, did nothing to calm us down. Coach Jim had instructed us to do a 15-minute swim, a 20-minute bike, and a 15-minute run with some faster-paced pick-ups during each leg. Easy, right? Not exactly. We biked first, and almost immediately got stuck in a torrential downpour on slippery, unfamiliar roads. By the time we got back, we were freezing and completely soaked. On our run, the rain picked up so much that we could barely see. We somehow made it back to the car, texted Jim about our predicament, and followed his advice to bail on the swim and get warm. By then, we felt even more worried about the race than we had before. What if there were storms on Saturday? What if they canceled the swim? What if we got blisters from our wet sneakers, or fell during the bike? Rather than feeling calm and confident, we had a whole new list of worries.
We spent the evening trying to dry out our shoes with the hotel’s coin-operated dryers and newspaper, packing and repacking our transition bags, pumping up bike tires, eating pasta, foam rolling, and trying (and failing) to relax so we could get some sleep. The mood was tense and the conversation topic never strayed far from what was on our minds: “Can you believe it’s tomorrow?” At 4 am the next morning when our alarms went off and we were shoveling down oatmeal, bananas, and peanut butter, it was the same thing: “Can you believe it’s today???”
Race morning was a blur of too many things to do and too little time. Ironically, we found ourselves thinking less about the race itself than we had all week because we were so busy getting our last-minute prep in. We warmed up on the bike (and guess what? It poured again!), stopped at the porta potties, warmed up jogging, stopped again at the porta potties, got body-marked, set up our gear in the transition area, put on wetsuits, took a selfie, warmed up in the water, and stopped one more time at the porta potties. Before we knew it, we were wearing fuchsia swim caps, lined up with our age group, wading into the water two at a time, and we were off!
I wish I give a more exciting recap of the race itself, but I’m happy to report that it’s not a very interesting story. Somehow, everything went right. The rain held off, we felt strong, and guess what? We made it to the end in one piece! The swim was a little chaotic with lots of feet in our faces and splashing around the buoys, but we stuck to the plan of not going out too fast and settling into a “speedy but sustainable” rhythm that we could maintain for 2100 yards. T1 was fun, as we got some help from the official wetsuit strippers—several super strong volunteers who helped us racers by pulling off our tight wetsuits much faster than we could on our own. The 56-mile bike was an awesome two-loop course with beautiful scenery and not too many hills, and we got to put our fueling-while-riding skills to the test as we made it through energy bars, electrolyte drinks, and other quick carbs that would keep us going until the end. Coming out of T2 and into the final leg (a 13.1-mile run), we were all getting tired, stiff, and beyond sick of CLIF’s “razz” flavored energy gels, but we pushed on with the end in sight. After getting up and over a steep hill at mile 12.5, we turned into the race site entryway, crossed a footbridge, and smiled across the finish line.
We may have gone into Patriot not knowing exactly what it would be like. Now that we’ve finished, it’s pretty clear that racing a Half Ironman is the only real way to find out what it feels like to race a Half Ironman. “Exciting” doesn’t cover it, and “exhilarating” feels like a cliché. It’s a weird mix of feeling awesome and feeling like your heart might explode. Don’t forget to add the relief and pride that follow, plus the extreme chafing, GI turbulence, and muscle soreness that lasts for days. Maybe we can’t put that race feeling into words, but one thing’s for sure--we know we want to feel it again. Until next year, Patriot. We’ve got some records to break.
The Aftermath: Abiah
When I crossed the finish line, my legs clenched up into what felt like 100 charley horses and my heart rate was nearing 190. My mind was groggy, perhaps from the dehydration or the 3000 calorie deficit, or maybe from the euphoria of finally being done. Some wonderful angel (read: race volunteer) handed me a water bottle, ice-cold towel, and finisher’s medal before I hobbled over to the ice bath to dunk my feet in. Almost immediately, I had loving family and friends coming to me with excited faces and hugs, embracing my grime and sweat from the past 5 hours and 45 minutes. (Of course Katie had been waiting for OVER AN HOUR at the finish line; be sure to check out this blog next year when she’s elite). I wondered if I could’ve come even close to the finish line without I couldn't believe I had finished, and was so happy that the months of training were officially over.
For the next hour, I went through cycles of icing, stretching, begging my family for massages, and eating anything and everything so long as it didn't resemble Gu or make me nauseous. We all watched in amazement as Katie took the podium for our age group and was the first non-professional in female overall rankings. Then followed the picture taking, because pics or it didn’t happen. It took three people to gather all my things, now strewn all over transition, and get me to waddle to the car.
I was so relieved to return to the AirBnb that I had left that morning at 4:30 am. I thought I was done with physical pain for the day, but I was wrong. What could be more painful than completing half ironman? (No, not a full ironman). Taking a shower when you have chafe literally all over your body, from your wetsuit, your heart rate monitor, your ankle timing chip, your bike helmet strap, your ill-fitting tri shorts, and from any tiny, repetitive movement. After a long nap, I pored over race results and scrolled through races photos. It took me less than 24 hours to sign up for my next race. Why is it that we continue to pay money for this special kind of pain? I blame it on the post-race high.
The adjustment back to normal life has been strange. My body still expects me to feed it over 2500 calories a day. While only working out an hour or two a day has given me much more free time, a 6 mile run is no longer enough to give me the endorphins I need to be a functioning human. I’m sure that the transition out of college and into the real world will be even weirder.
Through the 6 months of training, nearly 6 grueling hours of racing, and 6(+/-2) days of post-race reflection, I’ve come to realize just how lucky we are. We are fortunate to have healthy and strong bodies, the free time to train, coaches to guide the process, amazing teammates to do it with, and friends and family that cheered us on the whole way. My time with the Dartmouth Triathlon Team may be over, but I know the friends and memories I made (plus my love/hate relationship with swimming, biking, and running) will last the rest of my life.
sbr
Valentina, Katie, Abiah
About the Authors
Valentina Sedlacek is an '18 on the tri team studying Spanish and Anthropology modified with Global Health, and is pre-med. She loves berries and exploring the Upper Valley in the sun swimming, biking, or hiking with friends, her family, and two dogs.
Katie Clayton ('18) is a tri team captain studying Government and French. She loves cooking, the color purple, Maine wild bluberries, and summer.
Abiah Pritchard is a '17 captain who recently graduated with a degree in Biology. She will move to Boston this year before beginning a career in healthcare. She loves golden retrievers and dark chocolate.
Fog lay like a heavy quilt over Buzzard’s Bay, blurring the line between water and sky. Through the mist, we watched the swells crash with patterned irregularity. I swallowed hard. I’d never done an open water swim before, and certainly not in the ocean. I told myself the waves would calm down by the time our race went off.
I was wrong. Fast-forward two hours, through packet-pickup, transition set-up, and warm up; we stood at the starting line. All of the women, anonymous behind goggles and under our identical yellow caps, watched as the men’s race was lifted into a wall of bodies at the mercy of the gray sea. I said a silent prayer of thanks that the course had been shortened. Just make it around the buoy and you’re golden.
“Alright ladies,” the announcer said into the microphone, “remember: what do you do when a wave comes?”
“Duck dive!” we responded in unison. I felt less like I was standing among competitors than fellow soldiers about to enter battle.
“Right. And we have our wonderful lifeguards out there for you so if you need to stop and take a breather, use them. Are we ready?”
As I’ll ever be.
The horn sounded and we charged into the waves. I ran as far as I could and then dove under the first wave as it pounded the herd of us. Thankful for the warmth and buoyancy of my wetsuit, I swam for all I was worth. It was to no avail. For every three strokes forward, a wave would yank me back at least two. The women around me seemed to be making similar progress. As I came up from under the fifth big wave, beginning to feel serious doubt about my ability to make it through the swim, I spotted the buoy. I had my light at the end of the tunnel.
Around the bobbing orange ball, trying not to go under as the other swimmers pushed over me. This is it! Home stretch! Just make it back to shore an-CRASH.
I fought the urge to gasp as the gray-green water went dark and my feet were swept up over my head. I was a rag in a washing machine. Air. I had no idea which way was up.
As the wave rolled over, the weak light of the sky started coming through and I broke the surface after what felt like an eternity. Two heads emerged next to me, gasping, and behind the goggles I made out two pairs of wide terrified eyes. They hadn’t seen it coming either. I looked behind me at the huge waves rolling towards us. Ghlskhsoaishkjnasdk.
We set off towards shore, now remembering to look over our shoulders so we could dive under the waves as they overtook us. Finally, I felt sand and immediately righted my body, trying to find purchase. My toes clawed at the bottom as I struggled through the water, but I’ve never been so grateful to feel firm ground under my feet.
I came up next to Valentina as we ran to the transition area, bare feet slapping the pavement. “Yeah Ken!” she laughed with a huge smile on her face. The bike passed in a blur, but each teammate who passed me (which was quite a few) encouraged me on. This is unlike any race I’ve ever done. It’s like it’s actually supposed to be…fun. We whipped past old stone walls and scraggly forest and I took a moment to appreciate how beautifully crazy it all was — how lucky I was to be there. My heart pounded with exhilarated joy, all the way through the finish, as teammates cheered me in.
As we sat around enjoying post-race ice cream, I stopped to reflect on how I came to be a part of this team my senior year of college. For as long as I can remember, some of my best friends have been triathletes. Maybe that says more about me that it does about them, but if you’ve ever met the Dartmouth Triathlon Team community, you’d probably understand. I’ve never encountered a more genuine, compassionate, fun group of humans. I thought about the way Jim supports each athlete — whether their goal is the first-place prize or simply crossing the finish line — with the same amount of selfless energy; how he voluntarily drove all the way to Buzzard’s Bay the day after competing in his own triathlon in Maine; the way Brandt spent all of his pre-race time replacing two flat bike tires that popped during warm-up; the patience that every single athlete had with all of us newbies; Fiona’s dab as she ran into the finish…I have nothing to offer any of them, but they welcomed me anyway. And I will never be able to thank them enough for that.
SBR,
Ken
About the Author
Kennedy is an ’18, new to the Triathlon team, who studies Biology and Anthropology. She loves climbing trees, eating watermelon, and going on spontaneous adventures.
When I signed up for the CHaD Half Marathon back in the summer, I declared that I would run every day and go on so many long runs, exactly like everyone on the internet says to do for a half marathon. However, things did not pan out that way at all. The race snuck up on me, and the week of the race I realized I had not trained enough. My google searches for “How to train for a half marathon in a week” were not reassuring. I expressed my worries to the team, but they were so supportive and gave me tons of advice, such as to not get a season-ending injury like Brandt did last year and don’t run in a costume. In the end, they made me excited to race no matter what happened during the race.
I woke up Sunday morning feeling great, and I could feel the energy and excitement on campus. Racing on campus made me much less stressed since if forgot anything, I could just walk back to my room. I was also familiar with the course and had run it before. Before the race, the team decided to meet up. I was surprised but happy to see so many people on the team racing either the 5K or the half marathon. I knew I wasn’t going to be alone in my suffering. We took a team picture, warmed up, and then it was time to line up for the race. I lined up next to Kevin the pacer from UVRC (Upper Valley Running Club), who had stellar recommendations from Coaches Jim and Jeff. I had no idea if I would be able to keep up with him at all, but I decided to give it a shot.
The anticipation kept building as we were waiting for the starting gun. Along the sidelines I spotted Moises, who showed up to cheer the team on. He gave me one last pep talk and then it was time to start racing. When we started, I felt amazing and was so excited. The crowd was so loudly cheering us on. I just wanted to run as fast as I could, yet I was warned that the 5K starts at the same time as the half marathon and runs the same course for the first two miles, so I should hold back my energy. Because I am a competitive person, I struggled to let all these runners pass me even though I knew most of them were running 10 less miles than I was. Thankfully, Kevin the pacer was experienced and knew not to start too fast. We were running at a perfect pace and we could actually talk to each other at the beginning.
The energy of the spectators cheering us on was so contagious. All along the course, groups of people with their kids and pets dressed in costumes stood out in front of their houses and shouted motivational words. Every time I passed a group of spectators, I smiled at them, so they would at least think I was doing well and having fun. Well turns out, I was smiling quite a bit as there were people everywhere. When I saw Brandt and Carly, who raced the 5K and immediately hopped on their bikes to cheer the rest of us on, I got so excited and motivated to keep pushing through the pain. I just started thinking about how amazing my team is. I especially needed the motivation at the point as I had just decided to break away from the pacer and increase my pace. I had no idea if I would be able to continue holding this new faster pace or if I would collapse during the impending hilly sections.
The highlight of my race was reaching the top of Tuck Drive, which is the steepest hill of the course, and seeing a large group of students just cheering me on and reassuring me that the worst was behind me. I did not know most of them, but that didn’t stop them from cheering me on. While I had initially thought that I would start slowing down here, I, in fact, sped up, partly to possibly impress anyone who might be watching me, but mainly because of the crowd’s energy. I couldn’t slow down with only 4 more miles to go!
When I finally finished the race, I felt the best I had ever felt before. I was on such a runner’s high and just could not stop smiling. And of course, the team was still there cheering me on at the end. I was so excited that I almost forgot about the post-race food! Once I reached the food tent though, I didn’t want to leave.
This was one of the best races of my life thanks to all of the support of my team and of the spectators just cheering me on. I don’t know how my teammates have so much energy to be constantly cheering, but they do. I am so excited for my next race with the team, whenever and wherever that may be.
SBR,
Hunter
About the Author
Hunter is a ’20 who studies Geography and German. On campus, he is an active leader in the DOC and can’t survive without his daily foco pizza slice.
