Shanghai 70.3: Swim, Bike, Run (OR try not to die, bike, run)

This well designed sign says, "Iron body, iron mind, iron soul, test yourself in Chongming"

On October 21, 2018, I took on the challenge that I had been thinking about for years: Ironman 70.3 (1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, 13.1 mile run). The race was held on the beautiful Chongming Island, which is near Shanghai. It took us about 3.5 hours to drive there from Suzhou. We stayed at a questionable "4-Star" hotel on the island with a small group of friends from SSIS. Myself, Dirk, and Mari were taking on the full 70.3, and Mark, Anwer, and Rachel were a relay team (Anwer on the bike).

I did my very first triathlon in May 2018 at SSIS, which was a very short triathlon (800m swim, 15k bike, and 5k run). It was a journey in itself to train myself up to the 800m swim. I know how to swim, but it was still work to be able to swim continuously and not feel like dying. This race was also the first time I rode our second hand purchased road bike. The bike course for the school triathlon goes around the bus parking lot, so it has many curves/turns, and it wasn't the best place to develop my confidence as a rider. Anyway, I finished that event. I was already signed up for Shanghai 70.3 by this stage, and it was a nice first experience at triathlon.

My second triathlon was the Dishui Lake event. I completed the Olympic Distance at this event (1.5k swim, 40k ride, and 10k run). The swim was very challenging for me at this event as the water was quite choppy. As I am still new to the whole swimming in open water and being able to watch where I am going, I spent a lot of time swimming the wrong direction and choking on water. I swallowed so much water in this event that I was quite ill when I came out of the water. But I was so relieved to get out of the water and get on the bike. Knowing the course was only 40k (24.4 miles) meant I could just bike as fast as I could and not worry too much about the 10k (6.1 miles) run waiting for me. The ride was also really nice because it was a huge road with a very smooth surface. No bumps, plenty of space, a great ride. The only hiccup on the bike was when I gracefully dropped my water bottle at about the 1 mile mark. When I got to the nutrition station, I grabbed a black water bottle because they informed us it would be "energy" drink, but it was actually coke, which made me almost puke. So I had to stop my bike and give back the coke and get a water instead. I made it to the run and suffered a very hot, unshaded running path. My run wasn't great, but I was happy to finish that event about a month before the scheduled 70.3.

Leading up to October 21st, my training had been okay. Our pursuit of fun always interferes with my training-like a weekend in Hong Kong and going to Taiwan for a week during peak training. I still felt pretty confident that I had trained well enough to be able to complete the three disciplines comfortably-not quickly but comfortably.


On race day, I was feeling nervous but excited.

Race Morning

This is the sign language we were told meant "I'm okay". We were also shown a palm in the air meant "I need assistance but plan to continue swimming", and a fist in the air meant "I am not okay". 

Unfortunately, I would spend much of the swim being "not okay". I jumped into the water in a very civilized and well-managed start. They were only letting three swimmers in the water at a time, and the pace was regulated by a pre-recorded beeping sound. I jumped into the water feet first and expected to touch the ground, but I did not. My body sank much lower than I expected, and when I came up to the surface, I realized I could not breath. I felt like my wetsuit was suffocating me, and I could not catch my breath. I tried to remain calm and relax. I tried to put my face in the water to begin my stroke, but I couldn't hold my breath for long enough. I kept sucking in water. I swam breaststroke with my head above the water, but I still could not catch my breath. I swam to a paddle board around the 100 m mark and started to take off my wetsuit. The support person there was confused and thought my wetsuit was unzipped and tried to zip it back up. We couldn't understand each other, but eventually he realized I was trying to take it off. He motioned for me to get on the paddle board because I was so frantic in the water trying to get it off. I wasn't sure if getting on the board would disqualify me. I eventually gave in so I could get my legs out of the wetsuit. I put the wetsuit on the board with no further words of communication-as it wouldn't have mattered-and I continued on my way. I was so hopeful that once the wetsuit was off, I'd be able to breathe again. I was wrong. I still couldn't hold my breath or even exhale a breath long enough to put my face in water. I realized I was going to have to swim breaststroke with my head above the water until I could get my breathing under control. I was telling myself positive mantras and using mindful breathing techniques, but nothing was working. I was feeling scared, upset, and angry that I trained my swimming so hard and was now basically just using the "don't drown" stroke to finish. I swam in this state for the first 1000 meters of the swim. At the turning point, I could finally put my face in for a short time and got a bit of forward momentum with my breaststroke. At this stage, I also began to become concerned that I would not make the 1 hour, 10 minute cutoff. Every person around me was doing breaststroke as well, but it all felt slow. For the last 600 meters, I did manage to do some freestyle. Not confidently, but I did make a lot of forward progress at this time. The problem then was that everyone around me was doing breaststroke and the risk of getting kicked in the face was high. As I reached the finish of the swim, I was so relieved to have lived though the experience, and I could barely climb the stairs to get out of the water.

I reached the transition area still not knowing how fast my swim was. Since I was so slow, the transition area was very calm when I arrived. Most of the bags were already gone, and I could EASILY find my bike. I got onto my bike and checked the time was 9:30. I heard someone near me at the start of the swim say 8:22, which meant I had made it under 1:10 for the swim. THANK GOODNESS. I was so worried all the training I did would be for nothing due to that disaster of a swim.

The bike ride went on without a hitch. All of the roads were closed, so it was very safe. It was a double lane road that was very smooth, with just a couple hidden bumps on some of the bridges. The support staff was so fabulous during the ride. I stopped to use the toilets twice during the ride. At one of stops, a police officer kindly held my bike while I peed, and I thought that was just the most beautiful thing. I asked for a banana at one station doing one of those cool, slow down, but not stop grabs. The volunteer kindly shouted, "DO YOU NEED MORE BANANA?" after I took the half she already gave me. So sweet. So kind. I got passed a lot on the bike because it was a two-loop ride. It didn't bother me though as I got to see some of the fastest cyclists fly by me. I tried to break the bike up into thirds (30k or 18.3 mile sections). My first 30k was tough because I was still recovering from the trauma of the swim. My knees were in pain, and I could feel some inner thigh soreness (thank you breaststroke!). The next 30k was much better (probably because this was after the police officer held my bike for me). Then the last 30k was just a matter of getting it done. I also saw Anwer twice on the other side of the road during the ride, which brought me a lot of joy.

I got to see Anwer's smiling face as I came into transition. I wanted to tell him about the swim debacle, but I didn't want him to worry (but I did want him to start looking for my wetsuit). So I just smiled. I hit the run nervous about how my legs would feel, but I was surprised at how well I felt (compared to the previous olympic distance event I did where my run was so slow). The run course was a beautiful 7k loop around the lake that just tried to kill me. I started the run and thought, ok, I'm going to run the first lap and see where I'm at. After I finished the first lap, I was ready to run the second, and before I knew it, I was able to run all three laps with only walking at the nutrition stations. I got to the finish line, turned around, and I saw my time was 6:51. YAY! I wanted to be under seven hours, and I did it. My final results showed a one hour swim, 3:30 on the bike, and 2:12 on the run. Add some transitions in there, and 6:51 was my final.

My emotions during the race went from: I'm never doing this again-->Well, I have to do this again to prove that I can swim.

I feel very humbled by this experience. I feel very grateful for this experience.

Thank you to everyone-near and far-that supported me on this journey. Thank you to my husband for embracing my early mornings, hangry feelings, pure exhaustion, and spending an enormous amount of money on the things that go along with this sport.

My ride home.

90s album cover

So many bags.