Sometimes Things Are Too Weird to Be Coincidences

While I wait for beta reader feedback for my first novel, Transitions: Through Hardship to the Stars, I have a little extra time on my hands, but a mind that is still fully immersed in the story... and thinking "What's next?" So I started outlining Book 2 - Recovery. 

Recovery picks up where Transitions left off, and one of the storylines involves Tara's father passing away and her family gathering in Arizona for his celebration of life. Tara learns that her brother, Brad, was named after a family member who played baseball. 

In early drafts I had imagined this namesake Brad being a major leaguer — someone Brad's father admired from afar. Unfortunately, I couldn't find a real life Brad that fit the timeline so I decided that the namesake would be a beloved older brother who played minor league ball and was a hero to the man who would become Tara's dad.

Which reminded me that my own uncle played minor league baseball in Sacramento.

Sacramento Solons - Uncle Ron is in the first row, bottom right

So I looked him up. Just to get a little more detail, a little texture for the story. I found his obituary and read. I stopped midway. 

My uncle's nickname was Ironman. 

Proof for when someone thinks I made this up just for the novel

He was given this nickname because he could pitch both games of a doubleheader and win. Our family's first endurance athlete.

I sat with that for a minute.

I have completed multiple IRONMAN triathlons. I have crossed finish lines with that word on the banner overhead. I have worn that word on my hats and shirts. Hot Stuff even bought me a Dooney & Burke IRONMAN purse. IRONMAN has been a very visible part of my identity for years. And my mother — his sister — never once made the connection. Never even mentioned it. 

One of my favorites gifts from Hot Stuff

I scanned the obituary again for any more family secrets and stopped cold for a second time. My uncle's birthday... April 30... the same day I was reading it. Chills! 

I sat floored at my laptop trying to process what I had just learned. 

I didn't know what to do with that except write it down and share it. Some things are too weird to be coincidences. Some stories were always going to find their way to the surface. Maybe the outline was never really about Book 2. Maybe it was just the excuse I needed to go looking.

Happy birthday, Uncle Ron. The original "Ironman" in our family.

I Am Done with the Algorithm Too

When I read Kristin Mayer's April 14th blog post — I Am Done with the Algorithm — my first thought was "Exactly!" While her post was about the goals of her clothing brand, Betty Designs — I recognized what she was saying in terms of my book. The goal is to make people feel something. She went on to explain that she's not chasing likes or changing who she is to keep up with the algorithm. Amen! I don't want to chase it either.

Following the algorithm only makes you feel crazy and often drags you further away from your goal. I know. I lived it during the last five years of trying to get my novel Transitions out of my head and onto paper. I read countless books on writing a novel. Listened to podcasts over and over trying to find the secret sauce to telling a story. I couldn't write. Paralysis by analysis.

I fretted over how many words each scene had, the average sentence length, was I showing or telling. In the meantime, my story sat stagnant.

Early this spring I did a 40-day social media fast. Part of me hated the idea. Any social media momentum would be gone. A chunk of time with no posts, no talking about the book that wasn't even close to being finished.

And then it happened. With my nose not pressed to my phone, scrolling and scrolling, I had time. Time to sit in front of my computer and actually focus on my book. Scenes that were short — or more specifically didn't meet the ideal word count — were left as is. If a scene only needs 900 words to get to the point, why stretch it to 1500? There was freedom in that one small concession.

My extra time also allowed me to go back and look at the story as a whole. Certain scenes got moved to different places in the novel and it changed my whole perspective of what I could do as a writer.

Throughout the story I've worked to incorporate real races, real bikes, real gear. Two examples are my nod to Betty Designs, Kristin Mayer's company. Her kits were some of my early favorites, and I've featured them in the novel.

The first kit appears before Barb's Race 2015, Tara's first big race toward her ultimate goal.

I glanced down at the red and black swirl of my teal kit — the little skull-and-crossbones logo grinning up at me from atop a butterfly hidden amidst the curling design. Appropriate, I thought. Shiver me timbers.

Me and Hot Stuff

The second kit is what she chooses for IRONMAN® Vineman:

I took off my jacket and tossed it into the back seat of the truck. Pink helmet, matching shoes, kit that actually fit — for the first time in years I looked like I belonged on a bike. A "real" cyclist. The white sleeveless tri top with its chevron in mint green, bubblegum pink, dark pink, and black hugged me just right. The matching shorts felt compressive and breathable at the same time. I stood a little taller. I might be forty-five, but I didn't have to dress like it.

Barb's Race 2014

In real life I wore this kit at Barb's Race 2014. Tara saves hers for the IRONMAN® Vineman finish line. Kristin didn't only dress me, she dressed my characters. 

Her post closes with a promise of what to expect from Betty Designs moving forward — real athletes, real photography, and a brand voice that is unmistakably Betty.

That's exactly what I am trying to give people with this novel. A story based on real athletes, real races, and a narrative voice that is unmistakably Tara.

Stop scrolling. Go finish the thing.

My SwimRun Confession: I Ghosted the Start Line

Here's my confession: I signed up for a SwimRun and ghosted it because it scared me. An IRONMAN finisher scared of a race she didn't know or understand. 

How It Started

Back in 2023, I saw a post by TBF Racing about a six day sale with heavily discounted race entry fees. That year I raced the Dirty Duathlon (relay team "Hot Flashes"), the Lost Trail Half Marathon, Chanoko 30k, and Ice Breaker Triathlon. There was a fifth race, but I didn't do it. Maybe the cheaper entry fee made it easier to walk away from, to pretend I didn't sign up. Whatever the reason, race number five, the Folsom Swim Run, got dropped. Race day morning, I felt a pang of remorse. Maybe a little FOMO. But I stayed home.

Exhibit A: The TBF Racing post that started all this trouble.
Notice the "👍 You and 3 others" —
Yes, I liked it. Yes, I signed up. No, I did not show up.

Maybe I should have signed up for the short course race instead of the long course, but my pride got in the way. I was an IRONMAN for crying out loud, there could be no short course racing for me. 

As they say, pride goeth before a fall — or in my case, before a no-show.

How It's Going

This race has been living rent-free in my head ever since July 2024. I still want to do it. It still scares me. But I am humbled enough after the "no show" to be willing to sign up for the short one. To give myself a chance to figure it out. This is going to be my own little graduation race. 

Follow My Adventure

So here's what's coming. I'm dragging you along for the whole ride...

• What is SwimRun? - Time to do some research and figure things out. I have a basic idea, but it seems to be a whole other subculture of racing.
• The Gear Spiral - This is what really freaked me out...what to bring. Maybe I was just lost without transition or a bike.
• Finding a Partner - You who know me know this was coming...Trisha, James and Emily!
• Training - Time to start thinking about this.
• Race Week - Stay tuned. It's a race a few miles from my house that's only 3.5 miles long... how much drama could there possibly be? 😄
• Race Report - Of course there will be a race report! The payoff. Win, crash, or crawl across the finish line — you'll hear about it.

I still can't believe I ghosted a race just because it scared me. But I'm back, and this time I'm showing up."

Meet Buster – The Dog Who Got Me Out the Door and Into My Novel

There's a Welsh Terrier named Buster in my novel. He belongs to Tara Fisher, my protagonist. He is there for the downfall — completely clueless that her world just fell apart. He goes absolutely crazy when Mason comes home from college the following summer. He gets left at the kennel for all the big races.

He is every dog I have ever loved.

Buster: Headed home from the kennel after a race weekend

He was the easiest character to write. He was also the hardest.Here's something I haven't told anyone yet.
The real reason I started running was a Welsh Terrier named Buster.

Burning off some energy Cesar Millan style

Humble Beginnings

Cesar Millan said the key to a calm dog was exercise — daily, consistent, purposeful. So Buster and I started walking. Then we discovered he liked running. And slowly, without either of us planning it, so did I. It wasn't the whole story — P90X and a Facebook post about a triathlon class and a coach named James Cotta would come later. But Buster got me out the door first.

NOTE: I even wrote about it at the time — What I Learned About Running from My Dogs — though I had no idea then where those miles would eventually take me.

I think James and Zoe feel the same way about running

After a few miles I would bring him home. Drop him at the door. And then I would keep going.

He would have kept going too. I knew that. But somewhere in those first solo miles — door closing behind him, road still open ahead of me — something shifted. Those were his miles first. Then they became mine.

Waiting for me to get home from a run

I didn't know it then but that moment...Buster done, me realizing I wasn't...was the first threshold I ever crossed as an athlete. Everything that came after, the triathlons, the marathons, the IRONMAN finish lines, started at that door.

Novel Buster doesn't know this yet.

Story Change

As written, Buster is a domestic presence. He reads the room during arguments. He retreats when things get heavy. He licks Tara's face at exactly the right moment. He is a barometer, not a training partner.
But soon he will...

Somewhere in the early chapters, there will be a scene, maybe just a sentence or two...Tara dropping Buster back at home and then her continuing on her own. Her first solo miles. The unremarkable moment that started everything. It belongs in the book because it happened in real life, and the best things in this novel did.

To All My Pups

I have had five dogs who made a real impact on my life. A Welsh Terrier named Buster was one of them. And here is the thing about dogs — our dogs reflect us. So it is not a surprise that they all seem like him. 

NOTE: The bernedoodles would like me to clarify that they do not share Buster's enthusiasm for running. Or his and Hannah's enthusiasm for barking at absolutely nothing, each other, and everything in between. Cesar Millan's training plan was put to the test by the Welsh Terrorists (as they were called at the kennel).

The Bernedoodles: not fans of running, but they do enjoy a walk

Tara's Buster reflects Tara. Which means, in the way that all fiction works, he reflects me too.

He was the easiest character to write because I have known him my whole life.

He was the hardest because you only get so many dogs like that. And every time you write one you are writing all of them.

Why I'm Still Here – An Open Letter to Women Still Fighting

In December, I will stand at the starting line of the California International Marathon for the eleventh time.

Eleven times. They have a name for people like me. They call us Loyal Runners. I think I just call it stubborn.

Back with my pace group.

If you're new here, welcome. If you've been here before, welcome back — I've missed this. Either way, I want to tell you who I am and why I'm writing again, because this chapter of the blog is different from the ones before it. It's more honest. It's more personal. And I think, for the right reader, it might matter.

---

I am 58 years old. I am a triathlete, a marathoner, a wife, a mother, and a novelist working on a book about women who lose themselves when their kids grow up and have to find their way back. I live near one of the best bike trails in the country, which sounds idyllic and is — except that the reason I moved my riding from the road to the trail is that a driver hit me and two friends from behind on a country road in 2017 and kept going.

He left us there.

Thankfully, the emergency people found us!

I won't relitigate all of that here — there's a post from December 2017 if you want the full story. What I will say is that part of my left side has been numb ever since, that road cycling as I knew it ended that day, and that finding a safe trail a few years later felt like getting a piece of myself back that I had quietly grieved.

I tell you this not for sympathy but for context. Because this blog is about a body that has been through things. A body that keeps showing up anyway.

---

Menopause doesn't get talked about honestly enough in athletic circles. I didn't suffer dramatic mood swings the way some women describe. What I got instead was quieter and in some ways more maddening: I ate the same. I trained the same. The weight came anyway. Nobody tells you that the rules change without warning. That the body you knew — the one you had negotiated a truce with through years of training and discipline — quietly renegotiates the terms without consulting you.

I have fought my relationship with food my whole life. I won't pretend otherwise. That fight has taken different forms at different times. What I know now that I didn't always know is that the fight isn't about willpower. It never was. It's about figuring out what your body actually needs, at this age, in this season, under this specific kind of stress — and then doing the hard, unglamorous work of meeting it there.

Right now my house is being remodeled. My routine is disrupted. My stress is high. I stepped on the scale this morning and it hadn't moved in a month.

I'm writing anyway.

---

There are moments — at the neighborhood gathering, at the doctor's office, in the mirror — when I catch a glimpse of a version of aging that I am not ready to accept. The slow retreat. The quiet surrender to "I'm too old for that." I understand it. Some days I feel the pull of it myself. But I am not ready. And I don't think you are either, or you wouldn't be here reading this.

---

Here's what the next eight months look like: I want to get to my race weight before my CIM training block begins in earnest at the end of July. I'll be documenting the journey here — the Oura scores, the training, the nutrition experiments, the weeks that work and the weeks that don't. I'll be writing about what it's like to train for a marathon at 58 with a partially numb left side and a remodel happening in the background and a novel due and a God I'm trying to stay close to.

It won't always be pretty. It will always be honest.

If you're still fighting — for your fitness, for your health, for a version of yourself you're not ready to give up on — this blog is for you.

I'll see you at the start line.

— Tracy Loyal Runner. Closet Athlete. Still here.

Metformin, NAD Supplements, and the Road to My Best IRONMAN

In 2023, I ran my second best time at the California International Marathon. This was shocking because I knew I was carrying extra weight and I had managed to hobble to the start line. I felt pretty banged up. In fact, I had my left quad taped up in hopes that it would make it through the race without too much pain. I was shocked at my time and chalked it up to a good training plan and coaches (Thank you Karyn and Javier!) 

Taped up but smiling 
(close to the finish line)

Feeling motivated from my success, I decided to sign up for my first 50k. I took a week off after CIM for a bit of recovery for my thigh and jumped into a 50k training plan. Three days in, my right hip was in so much pain, I could barely walk let alone run.

The next four weeks consisted of Zwift rides and walks with my dogs (and a couple of swims because I knew I had to start training for IRONMAN® California eventually). The rest of January 2024 continued on the same. I started adding easy runs back in and I competed in the Dirty Duathlon (couldn't let my relay partner down) but as the race date for the Jed Smith 50k drew near, I had to make a decision. I contacted the race director and asked to change from the 50k to the half marathon. It was probably the smartest decision I could have made...actually, the smartest decision would probably have been not to run yet, but I didn't want to back out.

The following Monday, I started the 75 Hard challenge. The basic rules are for 75 days to stick to a diet, two workouts a day, read 10 pages of a motivational book (Bible OK), progress pic every day, no alcohol, drink a gallon of water, skip a step = start over. I decided to re-visit my prescription for Metformin. Since I wouldn't be drinking, it would be the perfect time, plus I hoped it would help me shed some of the extra weight.

NOTE: I had started taking Metformin at the beginning of my marathon training in August, but was not consistent and really didn't notice any changes. I even ordered a CGM (Continuous Glucose Monitor) to gain more insight, but nothing stood out as being the cause of my weight or injuries.

As the days of the challenge went by, I did start to drop some weight. I assumed it was a combination of the diet and exercise, and maybe the Metformin. I was pleased with my progress, but something in the back of my mind was bothered by the fact that I was taking a daily medication...one that I didn't want to have to keep taking. Besides, I wasn't sure if it was actually doing anything for me.

There are a lot of "may"s in there

In order to make an informed decision about continuing with Metformin, I did a deep dive on Google. A lot of the results mirrored the standard benefits listed on the label. However, I started seeing more and more results that made me start to rethink this drug. I found studies that said that Metformin could negatively affect an increase in my VO2max — one of the main things that all of my training was trying to improve!

Research published via CrossFit's health resources found that combining Metformin with exercise significantly blunted VO2max gains compared to exercise alone — in some cases by as much as half. Participants also reported working harder at the same effort levels, suggesting the drug was undermining the cardiovascular benefits of training.

A study published in the National Library of Medicine found that Metformin interferes with the mitochondrial adaptations that normally result from aerobic exercise training in older adults — essentially working against one of the main goals of endurance training.

I sent my doctor an email asking about the negative effects on my training and did not receive a reply. I decided to stop taking Metformin. I was already not thrilled to be taking a prescription drug. Reading that it may be working against my goal of improving my time at IRONMAN® California made the decision even easier. I was going to do this the natural way — exercise and nutrition.

NAD, NMN, AND THE BIOHACKER RABBIT HOLE

Once I started researching NAD and its role in energy and recovery I couldn't stop. NAD — nicotinamide adenine dinucleotide — is essentially the fuel that powers your cells, and it declines naturally as we age. For a middle-aged athlete trying to train for a full distance triathlon while holding down a job and a life, that felt very relevant.

My NAD journey actually started back in 2019 when I first tried Tru Niagen — so I was ahead of this trend before it became a mainstream longevity conversation. In April 2024 I picked back up with NAD Regen by BioStack Labs, which takes a different approach than most — instead of just flooding your system with NAD precursors, it combines NAD3® with spermidine and resveratrol to both boost and protect your NAD levels. Then I moved to Qualia NAD+, which uses three different NAD+ precursors along with resveratrol, B vitamins, magnesium, and a small amount of natural caffeine from coffee fruit extract. I am currently on my second month of WonderFeel Youngr NMN, which combines 900mg NMN with resveratrol, ergothioneine, and vitamin D3.

Do I think any of them made a difference? Honestly, I'm not sure. I think WonderFeel has helped my energy and recovery but I also have to be honest — I am not currently training for Boston or IRONMAN® California, so maybe that's why I have more energy. LOL

The honest answer is that nobody definitively knows which NAD supplement is "best" yet. What seems to matter more is consistency — taking any of them daily over time versus sporadic use of whichever one has the best marketing that week. What I can say is that once I went down this rabbit hole I couldn't unsee the research. NAD declines with age, mitochondrial function declines with age, and recovery takes longer with age. Whether supplements meaningfully offset that for a recreational triathlete is still an open question for me personally. But I'll keep experimenting.

As always — I am not a doctor, this is not medical advice, and your mileage may vary. Talk to your healthcare provider before starting any new supplement, especially if you are taking other medications.

UPDATE — April 2026

I wrote the original draft of this post in November 2024, right around the time I had my best IRONMAN® California race ever — 11:49:29, 6th in my age group at 56, one spot from the podium and a Kona qualification slot. Then I ran a PR at CIM. Then Boston happened. Then another IRONMAN® California 2025. Then 40 days off social media and a completed first draft of my novel — which Hot Stuff is currently reading and has given two thumbs up, though he is only on chapter two so I reserve the right to update that endorsement.

Struggling through Boston

The injuries haven't gone away. My right Achilles is still barking and I walk like Frankenstein every morning until things loosen up. I've also developed a Haglund's bump on my right heel — a bony growth that is as delightful as it sounds. I've been experimenting with different shoes to find what helps rather than hurts, which may become its own blog post because the rabbit hole is real.

My current race calendar is appropriately humble. My big spring event is the Fair Oaks Chicken Run on May 3rd with my grandchildren — which I am treating with the same seriousness as any other A race. My actual A race is the 2026 California International Marathon. My goals are to lose some weight, run my best, and maybe earn a redemption trip to Boston.

Some things heal slowly. Some things are worth the wait.

From Swim Mom to IRONMAN – The Races That Built This Story

I never planned to become a triathlete.

For most of my 30s, I was Tracy Pengilly, Swim/Water Polo Mom. I lived on pool decks, carpooled to practices, ran the swim meet computer, and measured my worth in my daughters' best times and team wins. When my youngest decided she didn't want to play water polo after her freshman year, the ground disappeared beneath me. I had already quietly accepted that her older sister wasn't playing anymore. Who was I if I wasn’t cheering from the sidelines?

The answer didn’t arrive in a lightning bolt. It arrived slowly, in drips and drabs. It was the coworker that suddenly started doing triathlons, it was 5Ks and half marathons that were fun but not scratching my itch. It arrived in a random post on Facebook about a triathlon class. It started small. It started with me scared out of my mind, crying in the bathroom the morning of my graduation race. The Golden State triathlon.

First graduating class of Lodi Masters Triathletes

I finished first in my age group. I was thrilled. Now before you go getting impressed or anything like that, I was first out of three competitors. So, I was podium bound regardless of how well I did. That being said, I had to show up, and I had to finish.

I may not look like it, but I'm podium bound

I would return to Golden State the following year, signing up for the longer sprint version of the race. I wish I would have kept signing up. Maybe if more of us stuck with the local races they would stop slowly disappearing from the calendar.

The last Golden State triathlon was on September 29, 2019. A race was planned for 2020, but there are no results available. I'm sure it was canceled due to Covid-19. Starting in 2021, IRONMAN California debuted with a swim and a run in the same location.

• Golden State Triathlon (Total Body Fitness) Sacramento, CA - This race lit the spark and many other races fanned the flame. My very first race and no race report :-(
• The Salmon Duathlon (On Your Mark Events) Knights Ferry, CA. My go-to race after the end of the triathlon season. Fast and fun. I raced it four times. Now gone.
• Angels Camp Triathlon (On Your Mark Events) Angels Camp, CA. I did the 21st annual race in 2013. The race never came back. Maybe I'm a jinx.
• Dirt, Sweat, and Beers, Tracy, CA — I did this one twice. It’s the race where Tara panics in the water and learns what “DNF” really feels like.
• World's Toughest Half / Auburn Triathlon (Endurance Capital Committee) Auburn, CA. I only did this race once and that was enough. The name is no joke. Unfortunately, the last race was held in 2018.
• Barb's Race Guerneville/Windsor, CA - Amazing race. The race where I learned to love pushing myself. I would race it again in a minute if it ever came back. Ended in 2015 along with Vineman.
• Vineman / IRONMAN® Vineman, Guerneville/Windsor, CA - The very last and the very first. Such an amazing racing experience that I made it the central race of my novel. Sadly missed.
• IRONMAN® Santa Rosa 70.3, Santa Rosa, CA. A blip on the triathlon radar.

Sadly, these races no longer exist. They weren’t just events, they were the stepping stones that carried a heartbroken, empty-nest swim mom toward something bigger.

When the races vanished, the only place I could put them was on the page. Writing the linked race reports and this novel became my way of keeping those races — and what they taught me — alive. Every panic attack in the water, every triumphant “You are an IRONMAN” moment, every quiet mile, every person I have met along the way are stitched together from real mornings when I wondered if I could keep going, and real finish lines where I discovered I could.

If you’ve ever lost a version of yourself you thought defined you — whether through kids growing up, a career shift, or any quiet unraveling — I hope Tara’s story feels like company on that road.

_________________________________

Shoutout to On Your Mark Events and TBF Racing — still out there keeping local racing alive!!

IRONMAN® California - 2025 - My First Last IRONMAN

I'M NOT SURE why I signed up for this race again. I guess I got so close to my goal of going to Kona (missed the roll down by one spot) that I figured I should try again. So I reloaded my training plan and got started in May.

There were several times this training season that I wanted to quit. I was still suffering from a sore Achilles and I woke up every morning walking around like Frankenstein. In August when the rides really started to ramp up in distance I would wish for a way to get out of this. I joked around with friends that they should take my computer and credit card away from me so I don't do anything stupid this year when registration opens. Honestly, this race did not sell out so there really isn't a need to be first in line to sign up.

Speaking of firsts, when I was in line at the swim start I overheard someone chatting with the announcer. He remarked that this was going to be his last IRONMAN. The announcer replied with a laugh, "You mean your first last." I thought to myself, he's probably right. Somewhere in the future I will get the itch again and find myself paying gobs of money to torture myself. For now, however, I can honestly say that I think my IRONMAN itch has been scratched.

PRE-RACE

One of the main reasons I liked doing this race is because it is incredibly close to home. I have none of the logistical worries which is a big, big plus for me. After Boston, I realized that I am not sure I still wanted to go to Kona. The stress of flying to Boston, ground transportation, hotel, etc. was a bit much for me...and I really only needed to pack my running shoes. I cannot imagine what it would be like having to worry about my bike and all of the gear needed for a long distance triathlon.

This was Saturday evening before the race.
My Oura ring noted 4 hours of stress so far this day.
I can only imagine what it would be like far from home.

Thursday I drove to the ballpark and walked over to the IRONMAN village. Technically, this is my fourth packet pick-up for this race if you count the inaugural "Bomb Cyclone" race that was canceled. Every year has been a little different, but this year it seemed to be incredibly smooth up until the race bib.

This year, after checking in, getting my timing chip (last year they gave it to you on Saturday when you dropped off your bike), getting my race packet, I then had to go stand in another line that snaked past the backpack station over to a table with three large printers (two were manned).

Note, I was one of the first to arrive. I waited in line for the village to open at noon. So when I went to get in line for my race bib, there were only about 30 people in front of me. By the time I got to the front of the line, the line behind me went out the tent.

Regardless, it was worth the wait. The new system prints your bib for you with your name on it. Actually it prints two so you have one to use and one to frame. The paper they use is pretty rugged and my worn bib is still in great condition. I really missed having a personalized bib. It really gives you a boost to hear people cheering for you by name instead of a number.

I stashed everything into my new IRONMAN backpack which looked similar to last year's backpack in terms of color, but this new one was much more functional. I don't know who designed the bag last year, but I couldn't figure out how to get to the main compartment. When I finally did, it had an IRONMAN towel and flag and a few other things. This year, better bag, but only had the flag inside.

I had vowed not to give IRONMAN anymore of my money, but I did stop in the store and bought a new race belt, a sticker, and two hats. That's it IRONMAN, my wallet is closed!

BIKE DROP OFF

Bike drop off was open from 10am to 4pm. HS wanted to go earlier in the day. but I was shooting for around 2pm. I didn't want to be last minute because that would be too stressful, but I also didn't want my bike sitting out there all day possibly getting shoved around or knocked over. 

Case in Point: I found my spot on the bike rack and hooked the nose of my saddle on the bar. I had noticed a woman walking down the other aisle counting the port-a-potties. She stopped across from me and made a mental note of where she was. She then ducked under the bar and knocked a bike off the rack. She picked it up and put it back on the bar and looked at me. I was hoping it was her bike. Nope.

"That's why I won't buy a bi-saddle. See how short the nose is. Makes it easy to fall of the rack."

I just looked at her and my split nose saddle. She is exactly why I didn't want my bike out there too early. I grabbed my bike gear bag and went to the area over by the changing tent. My low number had me positioned on a hook on the fence. Easy to get to, easy to find. Last year there seemed to be more volunteers assisting the athletes. They actually took my bag and positioned it. This year it seemed a little more relaxed or maybe just understaffed. 

I took a pic of my bike just in case. 
The bike knocker is in the left corner
looking for another bike to knock down no doubt.

I took a dry-run walk back over to my bike so I could visualize my path on race morning. The bike-knocker was still wandering around my aisle. I wanted to stand at my bike and guard it until she left, but HS was waiting for me outside of transition, so I gave my bike one last glance and hoped that the lady was done bumping bikes.

RACE MORNING

I was up before my 4am alarm. I never sleep well before a big race. I fixed coffee, mixed my instant apple and cinnamon oatmeal and did my bible study. I checked my remaining gear bags one last time and added my drink bottles I had mixed the night before with Maurten 360. One bottle was going to fill up the bladder on my bike and the other one was for my Bike Special Needs bag. I had decided to make a pit stop this year instead of hauling a bottle around for the first 56 miles.

I was racing in the same Pearl iZumi tri-suit I have worn for the last two races. I always toy with the idea of buying something different so my pictures will be special for the race but decide against it. The PI suit is really nice and it fits well...so why mess with success. Plus I am certain I am not going to see my kit on anyone else on the course.

I put my wetsuit on up to my waist before leaving the house. I also slipped on my neoprene booties along with a pair of old Hokas that were going to be left at the swim start. I also stuck a pair of silicone ear plugs inside my suit so I wouldn't forget them in the gear bag. I was ready to go.

The drive to ballpark only takes about 15-20 minutes. It's especially quick at 5am on a Sunday morning. That is, until you get to the exit to the stadium. Traffic was at a standstill on the freeway and the people cutting in at the last minute were not helping the situation. I had plenty of time, so I was trying not to worry about anything other than getting rear-ended. Part of the problem was the traffic light at the bottom of the off-ramp. The other problem was that even if you got through the light, traffic was slow to stopped trying to get into the parking lot. Thankfully, someone opened a second gate and we started to move.

There really was no point in having HS get out of the car this year, so he pulled up to the gate, gave me a kiss and drove off. I dropped off my special needs bag and headed to transition with my "Morring Clothes Bag" (I just had to re-type that because my spell checker changed it).  More or should I say "morr" on this later.

Apparently IRONMAN doesn't use a spell checkers!

I topped of the hydration bladder on my bike and gulped the rest that wouldn't fit before heading to the fence just to make sure my bike bag was still there. It was, so I relaxed a bit. After one last check of my bike, I headed to the shuttle area and walked right on to a waiting bus. Maybe it was because I was earlier than in the past or maybe its just better run, I didn't care. I was happy to have a seat.

The buses used a different route this year, or at least it seemed different. Before I knew it, we were at Township 9 Park and I was being dropped off for the second time this morning. I checked my watch and realized I had about an hour before the start of the race. So I took a seat on the walkway, leaned against a railing and waited.

After about 15 minutes, I couldn't stand the inactivity, so I put my wetsuit on the rest of the way and stuffed my jacked and cap into the bag. My last decision was which goggles to wear. I had a pair with lightly tinted blue lenses that would give me better vision in the American River and I also had a pair of mirrored goggles that would make it dark in the beginning but block the glare of the sun in the Sacramento  River. I opted for the light blue lenses (mistake).

Last year, I got to the swim start so late that I couldn't even get to my seed time in the corral. I stood at the back of the line and didn't enter the water until 7:40am. This year, I was seeded just wear I wanted and had the opportunity to talk to a couple of ladies as we waited. Eventually, as more men crowded there way up to the front, we got separated, but by that point, I was in my own head and not really wanting to talk. Plus I had put one of my ear plugs in so I couldn't hear well anyways.

SWIM

I'm pretty sure we were in the same starting location as the previous years. However, instead of swimming straight out into the river before hanging a sharp left, we had to swim about 100y yards upstream before fighting our way around a buoy. After making the turn, I sighted the next buoy and put my head down and swam nice and easy. I hate to admit this, but in the back of my mind, I was thinking that if I swam slower than last year then I wouldn't have to worry about getting and not wanting a Kona slot. At that point, I knew my IRONMAN dreams were over.

The one thing about starting in the back, it didn't seem as stressful as this year. Granted, I was passing plenty of people that were a little too optimistic about their swimming abilities, but I was also getting passed (slapped, swam over) by people that maybe underestimated how fast they would be or maybe decided to line up with their friends, who knows. 

There were also plenty of people unhappy to swim peacefully down the center of the river. These people apparently needed to be right next to each buoy and would randomly cut in front of me just to angle their way over to the floating pyramids. I found myself stopping several times just to let these people get out of my way. I was in no mind to fight with them over my chosen path.

Like I mentioned earlier, I chose to wear neoprene booties. I don't think the water was any colder than last year, so I'm not sure they were necessary. My face and hands were cold for the first couple of minutes, but other than that, it was fine. However, as I neared the Sacramento River, things started to cool and change.

I read on Facebook that there were some smaller intermediate buoys leading from the yellow buoys on the American River to the big scary red buoy on the Sacramento River. I almost missed the buoy my first year and struggled to get around it. Last year I swam far right of the buoy only to end up next to it due to the current but at least I didn't have to swim upstream. This year I planned on doing the same thing.

Chaos at the Confluence

There was a large tree or something in the water that the safety volunteers had put a sign on with a large arrow instructing swimming to keep to the right of the tree. Ok, fine, but the intermediate buoys were not that far off my left side. It seemed to be too narrow of a channel for all of the bodies to get through, at least not without making some sort of contact. On top of that, my direction looked like I was headed right at the red buoy. Which is NOT what I wanted. This trajectory would find me on the wrong side of the buoy. I noticed a few swimmers off to my right and I tried to follow them.

The Sacramento River was moving. Even after heading off in a direction upstream of the buoy, by the time I reached the buoy I was up against it along with  a bunch of other struggling swimming. My foot caught on the taughtly pulled rope just as a hand reached up and smacked the goggles off my eyes. Thankfully, they just rolled down and didn't come off. Once safely around the buoy I positioned them back on my eyes and tried to gain some composure. I'm not a fan of open water swimming, but this is the first time I have been a little scared during a race.

The rest of the swim was fine. Honestly, I could have floated to the exit and still made the cutoff, but I continued to move my arms and occasionally kicked my feet. Before I knew it, I was at the exit ramp and stumbling my way up to the top. 

Always may favorite part of the swim

TRANSITION 1

Nothing of note really. The changing tent was warm and beckoned me to sit and stay a while. I changed into my riding gear, choked down the first of many gels and headed out towards my bike. I can't say I was hustling and my time confirms it:

• Last Year: 9:21
• This Year: 10:43

That 1:22 is more than the difference between 7th and 8th place this year. 

BIKE

The bike continues to be my favorite leg of a triathlon. I wasn't sure how ready I was going to be this year even though I followed the same training plan. This year, I put many more miles on the trainer instead of going out on the trail. There seemed to be an absurd amount of squirrels this year and being that squirrels are squirrel-y I was afraid I was going to hit one and go over my handle bars. So I played it safe and stayed mostly inside, not completely ready for 112 miles in an aero position. 

Early morning bike smiles

Before the start of the race we were told how perfect the conditions were today and that there would be very little wind. WRONG! Granted, the wind was no where near what it was in 2022, but it was noticeable on the second loop but more on that later.

The first several miles are boring and take you through an industrial area of West Sacramento. The roads are ok but smooth out nicely as they take you through a new development area. Unfortunately the course takes you on to Babel Slough (aka Bottle Slough). I rarely try and stay aero in this section. The pavement is rough and shady. Some of the potholes are marked, but not all of them. On top of that, you have to keep an eye out for bike gear on the road, mostly bottles but I did see an occasional bottle cage. I keep my hands on the brakes and stay alert. This segment will rattle your teeth and your nerves.

As I headed out Jefferson, I started to notice a bit of a breeze. Was this the 5 MPH wind we were promised? It didn't slow me down much so I tried to ignore it. However, this is the Delta and I have been on plenty of rides out here where the wind just seems to come out of nowhere and change directions so you always seem to be riding into it. I stayed aero and pedaled. Eventually, I came to the first turn around, 25% done.

At that point my hydration bladder on my bike was empty so I decided to grab some Mortal Hydration at the next aid station. I slowed my bike and reached for the bottle full of orange liquid (mango flavor) and tried to re-fill my bike. Unfortunately, the bottle had an unopened flip cap that kept closing everytime I got it close to my bike. I think I got about half of the fluid in, took a drink from the bottle and tossed it before the last trash line. I could always try again at the next station or wait until the halfway point and my waiting bottle in special needs. Besides that, I was feeling like I needed to pee and I didn't want to make the situation worse.

Last year I peed on my bike. It wasn't as easy to do as you would think and I found myself in more of an endless forced dribble than any kind of relief. I told myself I would stop when I couldn't hold it anymore even if it meant the side of the road. I was prepared to squat and pee through my suit. Why should the men be the only ones that can stop and go when they please?

At the special needs stop, a very young volunteer attempted to open my bag for me. Apparently he wanted to hand me whatever I asked for and I appreciate his desire to be helpful. However, after watching him struggle to undo the string, I took the bag from him, thanked him and pulled out what I needed.  I refilled my onboard hydration with the Maurten 360 drink, drank the rest and was back out on the course.

This time, as I headed through the industrial section, I started to notice the wind. What would happen if I just quit now? Who would care? I didn't seem to care anymore. HS might care because he was headed out to Silt Winery to watch the race but we could go back together, have a glass of wine and laugh at the riders as they rattled and shook their way down Babel Slough.

No, I told myself, don't quit. You'll be mad in the morning. Actually, as I sit here writing this the morning after, I don't think I would be mad but then again, this is coming from someone that finished what she started yesterday.

Babel Slough looks so unassuming

I headed down Babel Slough for the third time this day. My neck was starting to burn so the rough section actually gave me a bit of relief as I sat upright for a good portion of the 3ish miles. I looked for HS and my daughter, but the crowd along the road had grown quite large and my eyes rattle in my head making it difficult to focus. Hopefully if they were out there, they could see me easier than I could see them.

The ride out Jefferson was miserable. The wind was definitely noticeable and my speed slowed considerably. I shifted to an easier gear and reminded myself that it would be better going back. As I rode, the urge to pee grew so I decided to stop at the aid station before the turn-around on the levee. I believe it is somewhere close to the 80 mile point. Anyway, I slowed grabbed a caffeinated Maurten gel and a bottle of water and stopped my bike. I fought the urge to stop my watch and reminded myself that this bathroom break would be part of my official time.

I leaned my bike on a port-a-potty and went to stand in line. Thankfully, the line moved quickly and the large handicapped accessible unit was my designated spot. My plan was to sit and go through my suit. I had no desire to try and wrangle that sweaty skin tight suit on and off just for a pee. It turned out to be one of my best decisions that day. 

As I sat taking an absurdly long pee given the amount of intake vs being on the road for over 4 hours, someone tried to open the door. Note, I had locked the door so I know the little red "Occupied" portion was showing but I called out "I'm in here" just to be safe. To my horror I heard "bang", "BANG", "BLAM" the person outside proceeded to get three jolting pulls on the handle before snapping the lock open. There I sat, fully clothed still peeing away. I yelled "I said I was in here" to the irritatingly unfased man starring at me. "But I gotta go really bad" was all he could say before closing the door. I had just met the one man in the world that wouldn't go on the side of the road (and there were plenty out on the course).

There was a half full bottle of water on the floor of the port-a-potty. So I grabbed it and gave myself a quick rinse before exiting. This pit stop had my efforts on this segment at 11.22 miles. Oh well. I felt much better and I only had a few miles before the turn around and a nice tailwind back to transition. I reminded myself that I still had a marathon and went back to entertaining the idea of quitting and going home.

On my final pass through Babel Slough I finally caught site of HS and Ashley. It boosted my spirits but it also made me want to stop and join them. They were having much more fun than I was! I kept pedaling but in my daydream state, I lost focus of the road and hit a couple of very jarring potholes. One was so bad it forced an expletive right out of my mouth that I'm sure the gentleman drafting me heard. 

Slo-Mo on the Bike - Silt Winery Watch Party

While I am on the topic of drafting, what is it with the men? Every time I became aware of someone right behind me for an extended amount of time, it always turned out to be some dude. I got so irritated with one guy who was close enough to me that our shadows were about 10 feet apart that I attempted to slow down enough to force him around me. No sooner than I heard my cassette spinning did I hear his start to spin too. So he was going to just sit back and do whatever I did? Not on my watch. I sat upright and slowed even further. I also gave a head turn to look for him before he reluctantly passed me.

Almost done

My speed picked up again and I really think the caffeinated gel gave me a boost. I counted down the miles as I neared transition. As I got closer, I started to see the runners. This was a new part of the course and apparently I had misread the map. I thought we were running on the other side of the river like we did in 2022. Nope. We were running on the west side through the industrial area. Ugh.

TRANSITION 2

Not exactly a masterclass in speed but it was a bit faster than last year. Although last year included a potty break. 

• Last Year: 7:24
• This Year: 6:53

 As I sat on the ground putting on my running gear and hating my life decisions, I talked briefly with a guy on the opposite side of the rack. He was struggling too, maybe more than me, as he announced to me that he might fart because it will help him feel better. Nothing like a stranger telling you he's going to let one loose to get you moving. I wished him luck and got out of there as quickly as I could.

RUN

Once again, the run course changed. All three years I have done this race, the run has been just a little bit different. I think this year's course was the worst of the bunch. 

My least favorite run course

The course headed out past Drake's, but instead of turning around, we kept going, under Highway 50 and eventually out on to South River Road were we were running alongside the cyclists coming back in off of their second loop. It is an industrial area so there is not much to look at and definitely no shade. I was miserable and considered quitting with another 24ish miles ahead of me. 

Farrah Fawcett knees!

NOTE ON KNEES: I explain my Farrah Fawcett knees in this post: California International Marathon 2024 (No. 9) – Farrah Fawcett Knees, a PR, and Running in Your Late Fifties

I sucked it up and kept going and followed the road up and over the bridge before taking a left to continue on S River Rd. At about mile 3, the course veered off onto a gravel access road at the base of the levee. There was one short section of shade, but that was it. The turn around was just past mile 4. I was not looking forward to the run back. Thankfully, it did not seem as long as it did outbound and before I knew it, I had run/walked my way back past Drakes and under the Tower Bridge. 

One of many slow miles

This part of the course was basically dirt and there was a volunteer stationed under the bridge. I guess to keep us going in the right direction.  The course continued north (out and back) along the River Walk Trail. It then crossed over the Tower Bridge and another out and back section on the opposite side of the river. Where the course in previous years took us over the Jiboom Bridge and into Discovery Park, this year we turned before it.

The course headed back towards transition and the start of the second loop. Thankfully, we did have to run through the industrial section we did earlier. The second loop basically retraced the two out and back sections before heading through Old Sacramento and then downtown. Once I crossed over Interstate 5 into downtown, I told myself that I wasn't going to walk until I finished. I think this may have been the highlight of my race. 

It was probably less than a mile at that point, but those last ten minutes were tough. But I didn't walk.

POST RACE

It took a minute to write this report. In fact, I let it sit unfinished until the end of March 2026. Maybe I didn't know what to say. Maybe I thought I would sign up again. As of today. I haven't signed up and I don't feel the draw. Of course, as race day gets closer and the social media posts grow more frequent, I'm sure I'll feel the pain of missing out. 

Not bad for 140.6 miles

There's always 2027... and I'll be sure to review my "Notes to Future Self" from my 2024 IRONMAN California Race Report.

What’s in a Name? Letting Go of “Swim Mom” and Chasing IRONMAN

So the working title of my novel is "Transitions: ..." because I can't really think what should be next. My original idea was "Transitions: Ribbons to Rolldowns" and it still my top contender. As you may have guessed, this book is about a triathlete. Well, she's not a triathlete in the beginning. In the beginning she is a swim-mom living through her son's accomplishments... hence the "ribbons" in the title. 

She begins chasing the title of "IRONMAN" and sets off on a series of life changing lessons. Eventually she completes the race and goes to the awards / roll down ceremony. Not because she won or earned a slot to Kona, but because she wanted to experience it. This is where the "roll down" in the title comes from. 

I'm not a graphic artist, but I'm pretty happy with the cover I designed

(Yep, that's me and HS after the very last Vineman in 2015)

But part of me thinks this won't be something that people want to read...that the title won't grab them. So I started thinking of other options. Here are the top three:

1) Transitions: "Real" Change 

This is a nod to the ongoing thread in the story about getting a "real" bike, doing a "real" triathlon, etc. I thought this was pretty clever. It ties into the book and transitions are about change. However, some early feedback said it may sound like non-fiction, like some kind of self-help book. Hmmm. Perhaps, but I still like it.

2) Transitions - Ad Astra Per Aspera

This title is a nod to the original Vineman race. I watched a YouTube video about the 20th anniversary and there was a banner with this phrase which means "through hardship to the stars". I think this sums up Tara's journey perfectly as well as tying into the race that has changed so many lives. I think losing the colon here helps. Ok, this one now may be my new favorite.

Ad Astra Per Aspera - Also the official state motto of Kansas

3) Transitions

Short and sweet but due to current cultural issues, this may be misunderstood.

Thankfully, the book is not ready to be published, so I have a little more time to think about this. If you have a favorite, please leave a comment.

Join Tara's Journey

Tara lost her whole world when her son quit swimming. Now she's chasing redemption one brutal mile at a time. Want to walk (or swim, bike, run) alongside her? Sign up for sneak peeks, deleted scenes, and first dibs on the finished book!!

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