The plan to race in Whistler, BC materialized last September. Following Ironman Madison where I had qualified for Kona, and where Sean and KQ’d in 2015, we took a trip up to Door County to rest and rejuvenate following the race (i.e. ride our fat bikes and eat pizza). One day, we were sitting outside of a coffee shop right along the bay; he on his computer, me nose-deep in a book. After some furious typing across the keyboard, he snapped his computer shut, announcing, “Well, I signed up for Ironman Whistler next July.” I nearly spat out my latte. “Seriously?!” For any of you that know Sean, you know this is not out of the norm. In fact, any athletic event less than 4 hours barely needs more than 24 hours to plan for.  What shocked me was the nonchalance with which he registered for this race—I hemmed and hawed for nearly a month before I finally bit the bullet to race IM-Madison.  

Without question, my intent was to support Sean during the Ironman. To “Sherpa,” as they say. That way, he could focus solely on his race, without having to worry about me, in addition to all he had to do to prepare. I barely presented that as an idea to him before he turned it down. He encouraged me to sign up for and race Ironman Whistler 70.3 (half his distance), because he figured that I would be done just in time for him to start the run, which would work out perfectly anyhow, since I can’t tell who he is in the water, and I would barely see him on the bike. So that became our plan, and I began looking forward to that trip ever since.

Even though this race had been on the calendar for so long, it still arrived quicker than I was ready for, or so it seemed. Physically, I knew I was ready, but my mind and body still didn’t seem like they were on the same page. Lifetime Triathlon had thrown me for a loop, and even though I had promised myself I was over it, there was still some part of my brain attaching to the feelings of that day.

Once we arrived in Whistler, however, it became impossible to focus on anything but the beauty of the scenery, and the incredible company I was keeping. It felt like the feeling you have of seeing sun after a week straight of rain, or when you’re finally able to wear just one layer of clothing instead of 9 after a long Minnesota winter.

After a few days of staying off our feet as much as possible (yeah right, exploring the Olympic Village in search of oat milk lattes became priority), race morning arrived basically in the middle of the night, with our alarms signaling our start to the day at 3:15am. With a race start at 6am (for Sean), and 7am (for me), we couldn’t afford to spend a minute more in bed. We slogged through bowls of oatmeal and headed over to the finish line area, where we would hop on shuttles to bring us over to the swim start.

After getting our tires pumped, I was able to see Sean off on his day before I began the process of pulling on my wetsuit, slamming another Gu and then lining up with all the other racers.

 The swim was a rolling start, so every few seconds, a beeper indicated our turn to start the race. I am going to leave you with a few bullets on each of the three legs, because this is already getting long, and I am getting bored.

• Swim: 31:09. About a minute slower than I was hoping, but I’ll take if after getting punched in the head a few times, dunked under the water and getting my goggles ripped off. Lessons learned: take boxing lessons. No seriously.  
• Bike: 2:29:29. 3,800 feet of climbing, and my highest speed ever reached on a bike: 46 mph!!! A clean ride with no mechanicals is ALWAYS welcome, but my stretch goal was to ride closer to 2:20. Lessons learned: I could have ridden with more intention of “constant tension on the chain.” This is like THEE golden rule of cycling, but I found it hard to abide with the constant change in elevation. Even then, I feel as though my effort could have been higher (always easy to say now, right!!?)
• Run: 1:33:26. This run was going fantastic, until it wasn’t. My hamstrings started to lock up around mile 8ish, and from there, my pace slowed by about 1 minute per mile. YIKES! Lesson learned: Keep that mental rolodex of positive thoughts fully stocked. I could argue that I tapped my endurance at hour 4, but I think it was more lack of focus than anything else.
• Overall: 4:38 and change. 1st overall female. Lesson learned: A calm and happy Hanna will always always ALWAYS race faster than one that is uptight, rigid and stressed. Imagine that? 

This vacation was the stuff of vacation dreams—good food, better company, fun events that spark your soul but also exhaust you at the same time? The kind of vacation that leaves you feeling like you need another vacation, and makes you oversleep your alarm and arrive late to work (oops).