Chattanooga 70.3 (69.1) 2025 -- Part 2

I slept ok Saturday night, probably because of the crying. So at least there was that. 

I had set my alarm for 5:50am. I got up and started getting ready. Eating was a chore. I had a banana and few bites of plain bagel with peanut butter and continued packing up my stuff. There wasn't much prep work to be done since I had laid everything out the night before. I was able to go to the bathroom and then I took what I thought would be a "just in case" Imodium since I hadn't had any issues the few days prior to the race. I grabbed my nutrition from the fridge and left the hotel around 6:30. It was a 15 minute drive to downtown. I finished the rest of my bagel on the drive over. I found parking 2-3 blocks away and walked to transition. 

Once in transition, I laid my stuff out, made friends with a woman racked a couple bikes over doing her first 70.3. I added air to my tires. Michelle eventually found me, gave me another half a banana. I was drinking a bottle of tailwind and ultima electrolytes throughout the morning. Then I went over to where my Cupcake teammates were racked to see if I could get my watch charged up at all. Something with the connect was struggling and if I wasn't holding the cable just right, it would lose connect. I went from 48% to 60% and called it. I headed back over to my rack and just hung out. I applied my first coat of sunscreen. So much waiting. 

At some point in the waiting, my insides were trying to be my outsides. I rushed to the porta-potty. It was not pretty and immediately made me sad and frustrated. All weekend I was fine, eating plainly, going to the bathroom like normal. Why did I even take that Imodium if I was still going to end up rushing to the nearest outhouse? UGH! I texted my boyfriend and my coach to lament. He told me it was probably nerves/stress related. She told me there was still a good bit of time to relax and let it settle.

Time ticked away and I eventually felt like I needed to go AGAIN. I was able to get one last trip in before it was my turn to start. All I could do was hope that was the end of it. Michelle had an earlier start position than me and started saying something along the lines of have a good race or it's going to be fine and I started to cry.  I put on another coating of sunscreen right before starting. I have gotten some nasty sunburns during long triathlons, so I am pretty cautious about it now. 

Because of the cancelled swim, the race was a time trial start. The age-groupers started at 7:45. Initially, they were sending 2 or 3 athletes every 5 seconds. Then they sped it up to evert 3 seconds. It was basically clip-in and go. No issues there thankfully. Some people are not great at getting clipped in and moving. Even the announcer was noting people's bike handling skills (or lack thereof). 

I don't think I was smiling in a single bike photo. It was definitely survival mode. Ride up this hill in front of you, worry about the next one when you get there. There was huffing and puffing and cursing. Part of me was concerned about how hard I was working and how that would effect the rest of my day. The other part knew this was the only way forward. I enjoyed every downhill and tried to use any momentum I had to help me up the next hill. I stayed on top of my nutrition. Photo evidence: 

There is one "notorious" hill on this course, Andrews at mile 26. I got off my bike almost immediately and walked up it. There was a second short steep hill around mile 43. I walked that one too. I stopped at the mile 30 aid station, as planned. I peed - a good sign hydration was on point. A volunteer helped me refill my bottles. Then back at it. Miles 38/40 through that hill at 43 felt like they took forever! A false flat section of the course for sure. The reward was worth it in a longer downhill. Then I was at the mile 45 aid station. I stopped again, this time just for sunscreen and to pour a little water on myself. The day started out overcast but the sun decided to join the party. 

I did my best to just keep riding steady. I had hoped the downhills might bump my speed enough to hit the 4 hour mark for the ride but I passed that and thought, ok how about 4:05? Well I kept pedaling and eventually made it back to transition in a time of 4:11 and about an extra half a mile. 

My coach was there to cheer me in, later telling me I looked strong coming off the bike. I felt fine physically. Mentally, I still knew my day could end before the finish line, but I was going to go out there and do my run-walk for as long as they would let me. I switched shoes, got my run bottles out of the little lunch box I had them in, reapplied sunscreen, put my race belt, vest and hat on. All the things. I was happy to be off my bike and onto the run. 

I had no idea how many people were behind me at this point. The heat of the day was revving up. I marched forward. I started throwing in some 30 second running intervals. Nothing too crazy. I have been doing 1 minute runs in training with either 4 or 9 minutes of walking. My plan was to try to start with 1 run - 4 walk. I didn't want to set up the interval on my watch both because of my precarious battery situation and because I knew there was a good chance I would have to alter the interval. I mostly was just going by feel. 

Again, nutrition was a top priority. A gel on the 15/15, tailwind on the 30/60. Prior to the race, I lamented to my coach about having to wear the vest at all, especially if I were to have a bathroom emergency. It would just give me another obstacle to get through. On the flip side, given my GI issues, I couldn't risk relying on untested aid station items. Sigh... Ok. Well obviously I ran with my vest. 

Little jog intervals here and there the first 2 miles. 17:38. 16:25. I knew 16 minute miles were a stretch but that would give me a 3:30 half marathon time. I have been able to get 16.5-17 in trainings so I wasn't too far outside the realm of possibilities.  Although that still wouldn't be fast enough for the 7:10 finish time limit that was expressed. Shortly after mile 2, my intestines were hurting. A cramp? Needing the bathroom? I wasn't sure and I wouldn't be able to go to the bathroom until the next mile. (There is an aid station approximately every mile on the run course, including porta-potties.) I mostly walked not wanting to risk any kind of incident. I spent 5 minutes in the john with no success really. 

I'm sure you are learning more about my bowel habits than you care to know. Sorry - that's just the reality I'm currently dealing with and a big part of my mental energy is spent on it. 

Mile 3 was 22 and change with that stop. Around mile 4, I somehow picked up a buddy. He wanted to walk together and I said ok. So we walked and chatted. I tried to run but the GI cramp was hurting and made running uncomfortable. Plus I REALLY did not want to have an accident in my suit. I took a gas-x chewable and kept walking. We were moving but at a slightly slower pace. Miles 5-10 were all 18-20 minutes each. We made the course cutoff for starting the second loop before 3:30 in the afternoon. 

There were fewer and fewer people out and around. There was talk of calling it after the first lap. We took the right and kept going. The clouds came back and the overcast definitely helped make that decision. Ice at every aid station to stay cool. Keeping on top of my nutrition plan. Doing what I can until they tell me to stop. But that never happened. We looked behind us and no one else is there. Are we the last ones? There is a good chance. 

Another guy catches us and walks with us for a bit before taking off. The final woman catches up and moves right along. Somewhere along the 10th mile, a staff member said we had an hour to get to some street (that I didn't know where that was) and said if we could we should probably pick up our pace. At this point I also start getting followed by the sweeper cart and cop. I realized my cramp had settled enough. I picked up the pace, not much but some. I felt pretty good actually. I pass someone! They are fading and I am hanging in strong. 

I got my pace back closer to 17 minute/mile. Chatted with the other 2 guys out there with me. One was dealing with a muscle cramp. The other was just in a miserable state and did not want to converse or be cheered on. I kept asking any staff member I saw if they were going to make us stop. The last one I asked said that unless someone tackled me I should keep going. Ok guy! Will do! 

The muscle cramp guy was able to jog it in and finished ahead of me. As I crossed the pedestrian bridge, there as Michelle!! Who selflessly walked back up a hill to come meet me and bring me in. Around the corner, my coach found us as well and was a total hype woman. A little ways down from there I could see The Cupcake Cartel waiting to cheer me in. #NoCupcakesLeftBehind through and through. As I entered the shoot, I am the second to last finisher for the day. All the high fives please. Super grateful for all these wonderful people. There were even a handful of regular spectators left cheering for the last few of us. 

The finish line. Always a beautiful sight. People were asking me how I was feeling, and truly I felt fine. I felt like I could keep going. I think I ran more in the last hour than the first 3. I was so happy they let me finish. There was so much anxiety before and during this race. That was really tough. I wanted to have a better race than Ohio 2019. Did I? By what measure? Times? No. Attitude? Maybe. I did consider calling it after the first lap. Strength and pain and fueling? Yes. Despite a gas cramp, a blister, and some bra chafing, I felt good out there on the run (walk). While I frustrated by a lot of the uncontrollable circumstances surrounding this race, despite struggling to feel excited or confident, I still SHOWED UP. I kept going even when it was hard, uncertain, a little painful, uncertain some more. I showed up in the body I have right now, and kept moving it forward, over 69 miles, to find a finish line that I haven't seen in 6 years.

Coral helped me get my stuff from transition and Michelle made sure I got my food box. Seriously was well taken care of by these 2 awesome ladies. I drank my recovery mix that Coral help put together. I went back to the hotel for an ice bath, a shower, and a change of clothes. I grabbed a burrito bowl and head back to chill with team BABE before the weekend closed out. It was interesting to hear some of them retelling their day.

I never mind being a back of the pack athlete (someone has to come in last, or second to last). But, it is telling just how different of an experience it can be. Sometimes it's lonely on the course. Sometimes aid stations are out of something or packed up completely. Big shout out to all the volunteers who stuck around and made sure we still had access to supplies. The sweepers follow you. The amount of bike bottles on this course that get ejected from the railroad track crossing is always high. Now imagine you are in the top 500 athletes to start the race, ok only 500 some chances for bottled. When you are the 2000+ athlete to start, the pile of bottles on the course have grown. Hearing someone say how nice it was to have the aid stations and not have to wear a vest. When I really didn't want to wear mine and yet don't exactly have much of a choice both because of my GI issues and the length of time I'm out there. 

Just know, that your races is yours, whatever that looks like. And what it looks like now, might not be the same as what it looks like a year or 5 from now. I am trying to remind myself of that. This year's training is not going to be the same at 2018's and I need to stop expecting it to be. 

Thank you to everyone who tracked, cheered, read this long race report. I feel really grateful to have so many people in my corner, none of which care what my finish times are.