Racing with God
That's right; I came across the finish line as the first female athlete and broke that banner! After only 1.5 years in the sport and my third 70.3 race, I accomplished a goal many triathletes dream of concurring. Many might say it's my youthfulness; or natural talent that brought me to this point, but I can honestly say that is not the case. It has been a long journey physically, emotionally, and spiritually. I have had many ups and downs, from dealing with undiagnosed injuries, to battling severe depression, bulimia, and addiction. Despite those challenges, I can wholeheartedly say that the sport of triathlon has changed my life and renewed my relationship with God.
So, let me explain how I got to this point.
Back in 2020, at the height of the pandemic, I was evacuated halfway through my last semester of graduate school. It was also my final semester as a collegiate athlete on the track team. I did not realize, until recently, how much being stripped away from my sport impacted my identity. I spent the first half of the pandemic, like many others, with the optimism that things would soon return to normal. I was in denial. This denial led me to spend six months couch surfing all around Florida hoping the world would open back up. During this time, I spent a few months with my best friend's family and was first introduced to the sport of triathlon.
My best friend’s mother has been a triathlete for over 30 years. I would see her train every day between the 3 disciplines and admired her dedication to the sport. She invited me on some short, leisurely rides and I instantly fell in love with the change of pace and challenge of maneuvering a bike. The rides gradually became longer, and I became stronger. I liked the control I felt while handling the bike at such a fast pace and the freeness I felt while riding along those open country roads. I would sometimes envision myself as those horses I'd pass, galloping through the fields. Trying to race them along the plains. During this time, I also began my battle with bulimia.
Now, I've spent the last year and a half in therapy. Since then, I have learned that the cause of my bulimia was the lack of control I had on my life because of the pandemic. I was leaving a place that was my home for the last 5 years; leaving friends and teammates that became my family; and saying goodbye to who I was while entering a world that was completely shut down. When the eating disorder first started though, I had no idea why I was doing it. I only knew that it made me feel better on the inside and out.
Little by little I was starving myself. I was depriving my body of the nutrients it needed to survive while piling on a new training regimen. I thought I was making myself faster by losing the extra weight, and technically I was. But that was not sustainable. After months of couch surfing in Florida, I returned home with an eating disorder, the onset of depression, and a stress fracture in my right tibia.
The remainder of that year, I spent locked away in my childhood room in Illinois. Some days I didn’t even get out of bed and went days without showering. I think I went a whole week without showering until my mom told me how disgusting I looked. Truthfully, I probably still looked better than how I felt on the inside. I constantly had this empty feeling in my heart, like a giant hole in my chest. It felt like my soul lost all forms of emotions. During this time, I began casually smoking weed to take the edge off. If all I could feel was sadness and sorrow, then smoking at least took that away so I felt nothing at all. It made me feel numb. The most frustrating part was that I didn't know why I felt that way. On the outside, it looked like I had a good life. I lived in a beautiful house with a family who loved me and friends who cared about me. This made me feel even worse because I had no legitimate reason to feel as terrible as I did. I felt I didn't deserve pity or help when so many others were truly suffering from the virus that took over the world.
It wasn't until the beginning of 2021 that I hit rock bottom. I realized if I continued down this path, I would eventually not be motivated to live. I couldn't do that to my family and friends... So, I worked up the courage to confide in my mom. It was by far the hardest thing I've ever done. Being vulnerable does not come easily to me and to open up all that shame was terrifying. Thankfully, my mom was extremely supportive and got me the professional help I needed. I was put on medication and started speaking to a psychiatrist. I learned new coping mechanisms on how to deal with my depression and realized I could not train for the sport I was falling in love with if I didn't take care of myself. This was also the first time I really started reaching out to God for guidance and help. After a few months, I finally began feeling like myself again and eventually moved out of my parents’ house to Jacksonville, Florida.
At first, Florida was great! I started a new job in a company I thought I could grow with. Had hopes to make a new set of friends and training partners. Unfortunately, those hopes did not turn into reality. My job became so stressful that my eating disorder returned. I was constantly having anxiety attacks that would occur at any given moment. There were times I had to lock myself in the bathroom at work and bawl my eyes out because someone would simply ask me "how are you?". This all compounded and exacerbated my smoking habit which impacted my training tremendously. I would swim and my lungs would be on fire from the weakness of smoke inhalation. I would run and feel the fogginess in my head weighing me down. But I couldn’t give it up. It was my release from reality. Slowly, and undetected, it became an addiction.
By the beginning of 2022, I decided to quit my job and return to my parent's new home in Dalton, Georgia. Not only had I felt like a failure for moving back in with my parents, but I also returned home with the same problems I thought I had overcome. I still had an unhealthy relationship with food, my depression was worse than before, I had an uncontrollable addiction, and I got another stress fracture... The worst part of it all was that my relationship with God was completely non-existent. Days went by that I never even left my room. I wasn't eating, I wasn't speaking to anyone, and I wasn't even training anymore. How was I supposed to train if I couldn't even run with my injury? The thing that had once brought me so much joy and was my main coping mechanism was once again taken away from me. I was losing sight of who I was, while festering with this frustration towards God.
Until one spring day, my best friend's mom reached out to me asking about training. I couldn't cover up my lack of training because she could see through different training apps that I hadn't trained in almost two months... I mean, she was the one who lent me her expensive triathlon bike for the race we signed up for together in two months, the Chattanooga 70.3. She was calling my ass out. Now at the time, she didn't know all that I was going through. But that little nudge was all I needed to get my butt off the couch. I shifted my focus from "feeling sorry for myself for being injured" to "how fit can I get in less than two months to cross that finish line". This meant I needed to find training partners.
I did some research and joined two local training groups. It was through these groups that I began to socialize again. Not only was it healthy for me to get out of the house, but it was also healing me psychologically. There are so many passages in the Bible that talk about the importance of community; that we are not meant to do life alone. In Ecclesiastes, it is written that “Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: If either of them falls down, one can help the other up”. I had fallen down so many times over the years that I needed the help of others to lift me up. Step by step, God was building my community.
Through one of these groups, I met my incredible triathlon coach. Over our long rides, she told me her life story and how she got into this crazy sport. The struggles that she went through and how triathlon ultimately saved her life. She became my greatest inspiration. My coach had this unwavering confidence in my abilities as an athlete but more importantly, who I was as a person. This confidence began to fuel me in not just training but in other areas of my life.
I also befriended a group of women who are hardcore swimmers. When I say hardcore, I mean these women wake up at the crack of dawn nearly every day and swim miles! Yes, I mean MILES. They spend their whole weekends, every weekend, swimming up and down the Chattanooga River. They invited me out to discover new lakes and reservoirs with them. Signing up for 5-miler open water races, I felt like I was becoming a real swimmer on a real swim team! I was utterly inspired.
Surrounding myself with strong, driven, independent women showed me how I wanted to live my life. I really began cherishing the little moments. From watching the beautiful sunrises over the river during those early morning swims, to embracing the warm summer breeze while racing across the Tennessee mountains on long rides. Little by little, I was beginning to enjoy life again and embrace God's goodness.
When Chattanooga 70.3 rolled around, I was still healing from the damage I had done to my body from malnutrition and addiction. The damage limited me to only competing in the swim and bike portion of the race. I promised myself that I would have fun and I did! But it was so hard for me to not be angry with myself for not showing up at 100% on race day. I was ashamed. I promised myself and God that I would never let this happen again.
This promise carried me for the next five months in which I was going through a major healing process. My main goal was to really prioritize God in my life in hopes that everything else would fall in alignment. I wanted to make Him the center in everything that I do. Now, it seems the more I focus on Him and His word, the more I want His light to shine through me. I have begun to talk to Him daily, as if He is my best friend. Praying throughout my long training rides and asking God to keep me safe on the open roads. Listening to services and worship music during my runs to keep my legs moving one step at a time. I started to learn what it is like to have an intimate relationship with Jesus through the sport He has blessed me with.
With this new mentality going into my next race at North Carolina, I realized how much I had changed from a year ago in Florida. I had respect for myself and my body. I was in control of my thoughts and actions. I was the girl who loves to laugh at herself. I had an unwavering sense of optimism for my future. This made me so excited because I hadn't felt that emotion in over a year!
During the eight-hour car ride to the race, I spent time reflecting on these thoughts. I understood that it wasn't just triathlon that saved my life. It was the community God was placing around me through triathlon that was pulling me out of my dark corner. The individuals I had met instilled the confidence I needed to believe in myself. Belief that I was building a new healthy relationship with food and that I am not a slave to my addiction. Belief that it's not a weakness to be vulnerable with people you love. I was beginning to believe I could be the woman God is calling me to be.
The night before the race, I laid my life down to God. I broke down in tears and opened up my wounds to Him. I asked Him to forgive my past transgressions and committed to rededicating my life to Jesus. I asked Him to use this race as a way to renew my spirit through every stroke, surge, and step I take. That night, I slept with peace in my heart.
The morning of the race could not have gone more smoothly. I was able to get dropped off at T1 to get my final gear set up on my bike. From there, my coach and I took a shuttle to the swim start. I began to feel the pre-race jitters as athletes were prepping for the race. Whether that was plugging in headphones and zoning in, or chatting anxiously to the athletes around for a distraction. As the nerves began to unravel, I quietly prayed to God to take away the anxiety. I told Him that no matter what happens today I wanted to use it to glorify Him. I was going to use this race as my rebirth and dedication to my faith. By the time I was toeing the start line on the beach, my fear and anxiety had vanished.
As the gun went off, I was engulfed in the first wave of athletes. My coach urged me to start with the first wave because of her confidence in my swimming capabilities. But if you ask me, I did not think I should have started that early… Now that I realize it, she was totally right! The swim felt like it went by in a flash. It was wetsuit legal and an ocean swim down current. There were numerous twists and turns. I remember regretting not counting how many buoys I had to pass before I would be coming into the finish. I was relieved the swim wasn't congested with too many swimmers. Shockingly, I did not have many people passing me like in my previous races. I felt completely calm even as the waves began to pick up and I used that momentum to carry me into the first transition.
Running out of the water, I had a huge smile on my face. I couldn't believe how great I felt in the water! Never had I felt so confident in my swimming. As I quickly made my way up the ramp and to the wetsuit stripers who aid in removing your wetsuit, I realized I had no idea what to do. I had never used them before, and let me tell you, it was hilarious! I ran up and they immediately pushed me onto my butt and told me to lift my legs. Two of them grabbed the arm sleeves that were already down at my waist while the other two grabbed my arms over my head and they all PULLED. I felt like I was being stretched by all four of my limbs! I couldn't stop laughing while running to my bike station.
As I grabbed my bike and ran to the mount line, I noticed how foggy it was. The fog and humidity instantly became a factor when trying to use my helmet shield despite how much anti-fog I had applied. Not only that, but my bike computer was on battery save mode. This meant the screen automatically shut off so I couldn't quickly glance at my power during the ride. I had to go by feel. Continuing to push watts, my body began to get chilled. I quickly glanced at my heart rate to see that it dropped down to Zone 1. My goal was to maintain a Zone 3 effort during the ride. I quickly adjusted and increased my RPMs to increase my heart rate. By the time I made the turn around, I finally felt like I was in my groove.
The course was not very technical and quite fast due to the low elevation gain so this caused a lot of other cyclists to draft... Drafting is illegal in the sport of triathlon. If you are caught, you will receive a time penalty by the officials. I was so aggravated by all the pelotons on the bike course! I couldn't fathom the feeling of crossing the finish line knowing I cheated by drafting off another athlete's effort... How could these other athletes be so okay with it? I reminded myself that I was in control of my own thoughts and actions, not anyone else's. I focused on my race and my race alone. As a peloton came up from behind me, I surged to the outside and stayed there to avoid any draft. It was difficult for me to keep my mouth shut to those athletes, but I am so grateful I did. Not a minute later, the official pulled up beside me and gave out penalties to every single rider in the peloton. As the group began to space out, I kept in my outside lane and surged past, sending a silent prayer to God for watching out for me.
Once I approached the end of the bike course, I had no idea what place I was in. I was hoping I was in the top 3 for my age group but had no way of finding out. With a quick transition in T2, I was flying onto the run course. My legs felt really strong after the ride and my strides were quick, and light. The first mile winded along the river front with very few spectators. By the time I hit the main street downtown, I passed the first mile marker. It was invigorating seeing all the supporters on the road! Everyone was cheering and yelling. Many of them were shouting "first place female"! I was so shocked and looked around thinking that is so cool, where is she?! As I looked behind, I saw a volunteer on a bike following me with a sign that said, "first place female runner". Immediately I thought "No. Way." There was NO WAY I was in first place! My mind started racing with all these anxious thoughts: how did I end up in first place? Can I actually hold onto first for another 12 miles? How far was second? Could I actually win this race? How embarrassing would it be to be in first and then lose it on the run which was my strongest leg... I told EVERYONE about this race and they're all watching me!
With my mind racing, my breathing became staggered. I was beginning to panic. My shoulders started to stiffen, and my arms began to lock up. I told myself to refocus on my breathing. Deepen my breaths and gain control again. As my breathing became more manageable, I started to pray. I told God that this race is in His hands. That His will be done regardless of the results. I asked God to take away the pain I was feeling in my lungs and legs. To give me the strength I needed to cross the finish line. I asked Him to help me gain control of my thoughts. Then, I began thanking Him immensely. I thanked God for allowing me to be able to compete at this level. To be healthy and happy while surrounded by the best support group. For helping me discover this beautiful sport that had changed my life and strengthened my relationship with Jesus. As the miles went by, I was overwhelmed with gratitude. Funny thing was, the last song I played was Gratitude by Brandon Lake. I repeatedly sang those lyrics in my head with every step I took.
"So come on my soul,
Oh don't you get shy on me,
Lift up your song,
'Cause you've got a lion inside of those lungs,
Get up and praise the Lord"
This mantra carried me the entire race. As I took that final step across the finish line and grabbed that banner, I knew I had the strength of God in me. I did not accomplish this incredible feat alone. God was alongside me the entire race and has been my entire life. His plan for me was greater than I could have imagined, just like His future for me will be greater than my dreams. I can't wait to continue this walk through life with Jesus by my side.
Jesus, I give this race and life to you.
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