Celebrating 20 years of long distance triathlon racing

 

This year, I am celebrating 20 years of racing long-distance triathlons. My very first experience with triathlon was in the summer of 2003, a year before I graduated college. I saw a flyer on the wall of the YMCA, outside of the spin class room, promoting a local sprint triathlon. I had dabbled with cross country running during my junior year and I was still swimming competitively. My bike fitness came from teaching spin classes. The triathlon perked my interest but there was one problem…..I didn’t own a bike.  I told my parents about my interest in the triathlon so a few days before my birthday, we went to a local bike shop in Lexington, KY and I bought my first bike. A hybrid bike with a kick stand (first picture above). I had so much fun swimming, biking and then running and at 21 years old, I couldn’t wait to do another triathlon. The next summer, before moving to Florida for graduate school, I completed my first Olympic triathlon in Louisville, KY. I am shocked that I even finished the Olympic as I was so scared on the downhills. I was veryinexperienced on the bike.  Little did I know that two years later, on my birthday in 2006, I would meet someone (who I later married) who would help me become a strong, confident and skilled rider (on all different types of bikes).

When I moved to Florida in the summer of 2004, I purchased my first triathlon bike. First came a 70.3 (half distance triathlon in Disney), then an Ironman (IMFL) and well, the rest is history. I met Karel in May 2006 and since then, I’ve owned a few different triathlon bikes. Today, I have a collection of bikes (road, gravel, mountain bike) and I’m so proud of how far I’ve come with my cycling over the past 22 years. But it hasn’t been without tears, struggles and a lot of stretching my comfort zone.  Tomorrow morning I am kicking off my 2026 racing season by doing something I've never done before. I'm racing a half-distance triathlon (White Lake) on Saturday, followed by an Olympic-distance triathlon on Sunday. After 20 years of triathlon, I'm still finding ways to do something for the first time!

The sport has evolved tremendously since my first Ironman at age 24. While it is exciting that the fields are faster and more competitive, the increased pressure to get faster (or not slow down) can feel overwhelming. Through the years, I have learned that performance and happiness are strongly connected. Over the past two decades, I’ve experienced all types of emotions on race day from “this is so much fun!” to “why in the heck am I doing this?” In looking back at all 22 Ironman finishes, 3 XTRI finishes and too many half IMs to count, my best race days have come when I remained curious and present. I consider myself competitive but I do not thrive on chasing an outcome. In recent years, stepping away from standard half and full-distance races to explore mountain bike events and extreme triathlons has helped me reconnect with the joy I felt when I first started the sport of triathlon. These formats offer a unique challenge with less comparison and fewer expectations. Plus, it’s fun to feel like a beginner again.

My definition of success has also shifted from finish times and placements to self-improvement, longevity, health and personal alignment. While I still train hard and maintain a competitive spirit, keeping an element of fun, socialization and variety in my training is essential for the life I want to live (and to avoid burnout). Triathlon has given me a career, a community, and the opportunity to travel the world (aka race-cations) with Karel. Through the highs and lows, my love for this sport remains unchanged. And whether I am on a mountain bike or running trails, I will always be a triathlete.

It’s easy to lose perspective in a sport that constantly invites comparison, but your journey is yours alone. Take time to remember where you started and always celebrate conquering the early morning workouts, the small wins and the setbacks that once felt impossible to overcome. Recognize how far you’ve come. Progress isn’t always linear, and to be meaningful, it doesn’t need to look like anyone else’s. When you stay focused on your own path, you create space to enjoy the process instead of chasing validation through results.  Outcomes are worth celebrating but don’t let them define you or your abilities. The real value is in the consistency, the growth, and the person you’re becoming along the way. After 20 years, the best advice I can offer is to find joy in the process. If your "why" ever feels unclear, return to where it all began and appreciate how far you have come.