T-35 weeks: "Do you want to race at the World Championships?"

Dear Papa, and dear Reader,

Wow, so so so much has happened this weekend, which marks the end of my 2024 racing season! And wow, it ended with a BANG! Let me tell you what happened.

Yesterday morning at 4am, my alarm rang. It was time to get ready for my last Half Ironman race of the season on Jones Beach Island in New York. It was starting to rain as we got in the car, and when we arrived at the venue at around 5:30am, the wind started picking up as well. I got everything ready in transition and went back to the car to stay warm and dry before the swim started at 7am. I later learned that many people decided to not even start the race because the weather was so bad. But not me. I was determined to get it done. My last race before the big one in Hamburg next year.

The water was at 66 degree Fahrenheit / 19 Celsius, so a long-sleeved wetsuit wasn't only legal but advisable. Only when I got into the water, I realized what the wind was now doing to the surface that felt so calm during the practice swim the day before: The waves now made it feel like we were swimming in the middle of the ocean! It was by far the hardest swim I have ever done, we literally swam through a washing machine. I fought my way through it bit by bit and still ended up with a personal best for the swim of 40 minutes, partly because of the new wetsuit that was awesome to swim in, partly because I wanted to get to the other end of it as fast as I could.

Only after the race was over did I learn that many people got so sick in the water from the waves and from swallowing saltwater that they quit the race after the swim. I actually felt pretty good as I got out of the water, ran to transition, pulled my dry socks and shoes out of a plastic bag, put on my helmet, and jumped on my bike to head out. The original weather forecast said that the rain would stop around the time we get on the bikes. Nothing! It turned out that it would rain until the very end of the race. Needless to say that my shoes and socks were soaked only 5 minutes into the bike ride.

I was running a disc wheel on the back, which meant that I was much more susceptible to wind gusts, but it also meant that if the wind was right, I would be flying down the road. I got into a rhythm fast and started overtaking people. Many others felt insecure, and especially on the bridges, people got blown around like crazy. I saw at least three people that crashed their bikes due to wind or deep puddles, but I kept going and pushing, trusting my bike handling skills that you had taught me since I was a little girl. No wind was going to push me off that bike! I focused on overtaking as many people as I could, especially the ones that had started the swim much earlier than me, and after a shaky and very windy second loop, I headed back into transition, ready for the half marathon.

As I racked my bike, put on dry socks (which cost me 20 seconds but was more than worth the investment), and got into my running shoes, I realized that I was both physically and mentally tired from the intense focus I had needed on the bike to stay safe. I started running and realized to my surprise that my legs were feeling fairly good and that I was going at a surprisingly strong pace - until I realized the reason for that: I had a strong wind in my back! We had to do the run course twice, so out-back-out-back, and on my first back portion, I had a rude awakening: We were now running into a headwind that felt like a brick wall, pushing the rain into our faces, and adding so much torture to our already exhausted legs.

For part of that time, I was able to draft behind a bigger guy that was shielding me from some of it, but when he gave up and started walking, I was on my own again.

After turning around to do the same thing again, knowing I now had another quarter of the race with the wind in my back again, I tried to push as hard as I could to benefit from the tailwind while still getting at least some recovery to prepare for the last push. And then, there it was. The last hurrah! About 30 of the most miserable minutes of my life, at the end of my strength, into the wind and the rain, but still with the goal to finish as strong as I possibly could - because there was a slight, minimal, tiny chance that if I crushed my goals, I could maybe qualify for the Half Ironman World Championships in Marbella next year.

When I finally crossed the finish line, I was entirely spent. I had sprinted all the way up to the finish and had given everything I had. On the last few miles, the rain and wind were starting to really get to me, and despite me pushing above 180 heartbeat, I started feeling cold and shaky. I had monitored my heart rate instead of my time and pace on my watch, so I had no idea where I was at time-wise. Only when I crossed the finish line I realized that I had finished in 5:27! With my fastest swim, a bike average just shy of 21 mph, and a running pace of 8:53 for a 1:57 half marathon time! This was way beyond my stretch goals for either of these legs! I grabbed my medal, headed right out of the finish line chute, looked around.. and there he was: Jim! My incredible race sherpa husband, the one that got me here, that motivated me everyday, that made sure I'm set up with everything I needed, that prepared my bike, bought a wetsuit, stood at every corner to cheer me on - and that everyone of my teammates is so jealous of for the endless love and support he provides me with!! We both started crying when we saw each other. "I'm so proud of you," he said as he held me. "What you just did out there, in that kind of weather, was incredible!"

We went home as fast as we could after Jim cleared out the transition area for me - I was shivering at that point, so he put me in the car, turned the heater up, and collected my bike and all my gear. I felt so tired but also incredibly happy with what I had just done. Little did we know that the biggest surprise was yet to come.

After I had showered, warmed up, eaten something, and did a session in my compression boots, we headed back to the awards ceremony. Coach and Maryam both placed within the top 3 of their age groups, so we went to cheer them on, but there was one more hope: I was in 11th place for my age group, and there were 5 qualification slots for the world championship that would be given away to the top 5 women who were present at the ceremony and ready to commit to going.

At first it looked like there was little hope. In all the other age groups, the slots were all taken by the top 5-8 people. But when they hit my age group and started calling out names, almost no one answered. I turned around in disbelief. Another name. Another name. And then, only three slots were taken when they reached number 10! I was in!! When they called me up on stage and asked, "Kathrin, do you want to race at the World Championships?", I realized that a vague and seemingly impossible dream that I had since the last race in Maine, where I had barely missed a slot, had now come true: I would race at the Half Ironman World Championships in Marbella, together with the best of the best in the sport, including Coach Christina Dorrer and my dear friend Maryam!

Papa, what a weekend this was! What a way to finish the season! I'm still in shock and disbelief! And what a year this next year will be!

Today is the first day of my off-season recovery, and I can start dreaming, planning, and getting ready for next year's season! My first full Ironman in Hamburg, and my first Half Ironman World Championships in Marbella! My triathlon life will be turning towards Europe! Is this a coincidence that all this starts happening after I invited you into my training? I don't think so. I think you have your hand in this. And I can feel you nodding at me from up there, that nod that I know all too well, the one that tells me you're proud of me.

I dreamed of you again two nights before my race, by the way. You picked me up at a train station with a big smile on your face, but when you realized that I started crying when I saw you, your smile turned into a grimace of pain, grief, and tears, and you turned away from me, trying to hide. I'm not quite sure what that means yet. But it might mean that you don't want me to be so sad anymore. You might want to meet me with the joy you had in your face when I got off the train. And I want to get back to that - feeling joy and gratitude for you every time I think of you. I can't promise how fast that will be, as my throat still aches whenever I think of you. But I promise you, next time you pick me up, I won't cry. I will laugh, smile, and throw myself into your arms!!

I love you, Papa! What an experience this next season will be together. I can't wait to do this with you in my heart, mind, and body!

We can do this!

Kathrin

P.S. Dear Reader, if you have comments, questions, memories, or thoughts to share, please leave a comment (and leave your name in the comment so I know who it's from). I would love to hear from you!

Go to the full list of blog posts or read more about the project Ironman for Papa