I stared out the window at the massive peaks, taking a minute to locate myself on the planet and appreciate the sublime beauty of the Alpe d’Huez valley. The car swung around hairpin the and with it my mind back to reality. As we descended, so did my perspective. I felt like a joke. It was my first self-induced DNF. I had those letters on results sheets before but only for major mechanicals. It was a slow decision. An idea that my brain had quickly calculated after taking in

The moment after I committed to go, however, everything seemed to say I had made a bad decision: travel logistics were crazy, I was in between living arrangements, Turkey was making news headlines for all the wrong reasons, suddenly my right knee was painful and getting worse every run, my trip was laden with delays, and I arrived in Antalya exhausted at 1am to a two day epic rain storm. I went through the motions of registration, race briefing, and bike check-in, all the whi

I was nervous the entire week leading up to the race, that was something that hadn’t changed. I was worried about where I needed to be at what time and with what, that everyone else had nicer bikes, about the possibility of finishing last. From my nutrition strategy to my swimming skills and everything in between, I was feeling insecure about everything. Other things had changed. I had an aggressive race strategy and the ambition to attempt it. I had come a long way in a year

Fourth pink hat from the right, putting my goggles on, ready to get going! We had been swimming for maybe 100m but all evidence pointed to the fact that I had been crammed into a tumble dryer with 600 heavy weight boxers. I don’t know what I thought would be different this time, as I gasped for air while getting kicked in the temple. It was my second triathlon, second bunch swim and my conviction to “get in it” this time now seemed completely stupid and made me question my en