Humbled, Hungry & Hooked: My Second Sprint Triathlon

Coming off the post race high, I am finally trying to gather my thoughts on how my second sprint triathlon went. This one was a super humbling experience, and the best part was that I got to share it with my husband, Dave!

We arrived in Brockville on Friday night after a lovely 5.5 hour drive. We took a little walk and enjoyed a nice dinner, just the two of us, where we carb loaded and both ate steak. It was deliciou

s and exactly what we needed. Afterward, we headed back to our hotel room to completely chill and enjoy a quiet night together.

When we woke up Saturday morning, we quickly realized the hotel bed was TERRIBLE. We both woke up with sore backs and tight muscles. So naturally, what better way to combat that than going for a 2 km run? HA!

And that is exactly what we did.

It was hot, humid, and full of ick, but we got it done. We warmed up our bodies for all the struggle we were about to put them through the following day. LOL.

After our run, we headed into downtown Brockville to see the sights, check out the race course, and find somewhere to eat a lunch with LOTS of carbs. We met my mom and stepdad near the race start and set out for a walk around downtown Brockville.

We found a cute little restaurant called The Brockville Restaurant and Pizzeria, where Dave and I shared a Canadian pizza. It was pretty delicious and exactly what we were looking for.

Once we finished eating, we walked along the river, watched some speedboats, and checked out some of the shops before heading back to the Somersault race tent. There, we were able to pick up our race bibs and get a better look at the course.

Dave was bib number 599, and yours truly was number 600!

I think they expected big things from me.

What I did not expect was the washing machine.

I will get more into that later. LOL.

We eventually headed back to our hotel, settled in, relaxed, grabbed subs for supper because obviously we needed MORE carbs, and then headed to bed before 9 pm in our shitty hotel bed.

Race Morning

When I wake up on race morning, I have certain rituals that help me feel ready. I take a little shower, meditate, eat a bagel, and prepare our fuel bottles for the bike ride.

Once everything was ready, we headed down to the race venue.

What a gorgeous day for a race!

We racked our bikes, got our body markings done, studied the courses, and made sure we were as prepared as possible for what we were about to endure.

We took a pre race dip in the river to acclimate ourselves to the water temperature, then lined up according to our swim paces.

Dave and I started together for the 750 metre swim. I quickly started swimming and rounded the first buoy. At this point, I had absolutely no idea where Dave was. I continued focusing on my own race because I really only had one goal.

Beat Dave. HA!

Enter the Washing Machine

I rounded into the second portion of the swim, which took us alongside the river wall.

About 200 metres from the end, I realized I was kicking and swimming my little heart out, but I was barely moving.

The waves were smashing against the wall and bouncing straight back into me. It seriously felt like I was inside a washing machine.

It was BRUTAL.

It slowed me down hugely, but I kept going and powered through.

Eventually, I could see the race convenor waiting to help us out of the slippery water. I kicked my little heart out trying to get there and remember thinking:

“I can't wait for an easy 20 km bike ride.”

Perspective is a funny thing.

I finally got out of the water, saw my stepdad, and ran like hell toward the transition area to get my bike ready.

I yelled to my stepdad, “Is Dave out?”

He replied, “Oh ya!”

Perfect. He was alive. He did not drown.

Now I could get back to trying to beat him.

But HOW Is He Beating Me?!

I biked my heart out.

It was a challenging bike course with lots of rolling hills, potholes, and open traffic, which sketched me out slightly.

Then, around kilometre eight, I saw Dave riding on the other side of the course.

I was instantly mad.

HOW WAS HE BEATING ME?!

There was no possible way.

Now, I know I am not the world's greatest swimmer, but I knew I was definitely faster, calmer, and better in the water than he was.

Sorry, Dave. I love you, but we both know this is true.

So for the next 12 km of the bike ride, I STEWED over how he could possibly be so far ahead of me.

Apparently, anger is a pretty decent race fuel because it made me pick up my pace on the hills and start passing people.

Eventually, I made it back to the bike dismount, hopped off, ran my bike into transition, changed over, and headed out for the run.

Honestly, this was my favourite part of the entire race.

Running is the part where I feel the most consistent, and it was also finally a chance to cool down slightly.

The run took us through the Brockville Railway Tunnel, which was shaded and slightly uphill going in and downhill coming out. Another section followed the river, surrounded by so much natural beauty.

It was such an incredible place to run.

On my final lap, I saw my mom.

“Is Dave done?” I asked.

“Yes.”

NOW MY ANGER WAS REAL.

There was officially no way I could beat him.

So I did the only thing I could do.

I ran my little heart out.

The Plot Twist

When I finally made it to the end of the 5 km run, I saw my parents.

And I saw Dave.

Naturally, my first question was how the hell he had beaten me.

That was when Dave told me what had happened.

He had gotten into the water, made it to the first buoy, and was completely gassed. He started to panic.

The water safety crew, who were AMAZING, might I add, paddled over to check on him. They offered him a pool noodle, which he took, but he quickly realized the panic was not going away.

So Dave made the decision to be pulled from the swim.

The safety boat picked him up and brought him back to shore.

One of the beautiful things about this particular race is that even if you cannot complete the swim, they still allow you to finish the bike and run portions of the event. You just cannot earn an official placing and are marked as disqualified.

For Dave, none of that mattered.

In that moment, he needed to worry about his safety, and I am so glad he did.

I am incredibly proud of him.

He tried.

I signed this man up on a whim with only FOUR WEEKS of training, and he still showed up. He got into that water even though he was nervous. When things did not go according to plan, he made the smart decision for himself and then got back out there and finished the bike and run.

That takes courage too.

Sprint Triathlon Number Two

With sore muscles and an official finish for me, I ended the day 12th in my age group.

I had this overwhelming sense of accomplishment and happiness in my heart.

I completed my second triathlon this year.

And I could not be more proud of myself.

But then something happened.

A few days later, I started feeling sad.

My triathlon season was over.

I was already planning out races for next year, but I could not shake the feeling that I wanted just ONE MORE this year.

So naturally, I started looking.

And I found Guelph 2 on Labour Day weekend.

I mentioned it to Dave, and he agreed that it sounded like exactly the kind of challenge I should do.

So here we go again!

This sprint will be a 750 metre swim, 30 km bike, and 7 km run.

Just a little more biking.

Just a little more running.

And another opportunity to see exactly what I am made of.

I am SO excited for the next one and to challenge myself a little more as I continue building toward that Ironman in 2027.

Two triathlons down.

One more to go this season.

And a hell of a lot more to come.

Thank you for coming along on this journey with me so far. I hope you will continue following, cheering me on, and watching as I find out just how far I can take this.

Namaste,

Jackalynn Westman