Jess trained hard to become an Iron Woman

She set a goal.  She trained.   She did it!
CF 18 Coach Jessica Reinhardt shares her story about her recent Iron Man Triathalon

On November 7^th, 2016 I stood on the Panama City beach next to my mom and partner-in-crime Layne. What was I getting ready to do? For 6 months I had been training for this one day. I was now ready for my very first Iron man.  A 2.4-mile swim, a 112-mile bike ride and add a 26.2-mile run for a grand total of 140.6 miles of non-stop movement.

Training Time
My training for this event was extremely time consuming. During the week I participated in 2 to 4 CrossFit or Bootcamp classes paired with a swim, or a bike ride, or a run. On weekends I would get in my long miles and focus on my weakest event, the bike. I did a handful of organized rides put on by the KC Metro Bicycle Club. My training partner and coach, Jarrod, told me that the bike ride would be extremely flat and the downtown airport would simulate this. I did many training rides at the airport with him, my mom and my friend Layne, but I also did a lot of my riding alone. Riding alone helped me get used to the monotony of being alone on a bike for hours at a time.

Training Table

Two months before my race I began to focus on my nutrition. I read several postings from CrossFit athletes about a program called Renaissance Periodization (or RP Strength). The concept of RP strength essentially takes ‘flexible dieting’ to the next level and uses the science behind nutrition and macro nutrients to help you perform better. My daily diet was based around the difficulty, frequency and scheduling of the daily workouts. I would eat certain macros at certain times of the day and during my workout as well. I immediately felt my energy levels increase during the workouts and my recovery time go down.  Sticking to a Paleo diet, changing when I ate and the macro nutrient composition of what I ate was a huge game changer.

It’s Go Time
After 6 months of training I found myself on the beach, reflecting on how I had devoted all my efforts to this challenge. I was ready to tackle the day ahead, ready to hear my name as I crossed the finish line, ready to cross this off my bucket list.

As they sang the national anthem I felt calm and at peace and free from the pre-race jitters. This would be a long day. It was time to put my head down and enjoy the ride.  This day I would be a first for me and I wanted to remember every second of it.

Triathalons ARE a contact sport
Three, two, one (horn blares). The hoards of people in front of me start to move. I run through the screaming crowds and dive into the salty water. With no ocean swim experience , I mimic the people ahead of me as they down under the waves which tower over me. Surrounded by green and pink caps I am finally able to make it past the sand bar (which create the waves) and find my rhythm. The salty water finds its way into my mouth and I remember Layne telling me how bad it tasted. She was right. I think to myself, ‘I will need a drink of fresh water after a lap’.

I round the corner to make my way to shore, still surrounded by a mass of swimmers. I warn the swimmer who has been pulling on my feet with a friendly kick.  Triathlons are indeed, a contact sport. I make my way to shore and the waves start to pick up again, flipping me as I try to swim. I quickly learn you have to stop, watch them come in, and then jump in with the wave. It is actually pretty fun.

I run onto the beach, grab a couple cups of water, washout my mouth and head out for my second lap. I fight past the waves much more efficiently on lap two. As I get into calmer waters I notice a jellyfish by my arm. It motivates me to swim a little bit faster. I think about the woman who sat next to on the yesterday’s plane ride. A jellyfish had stung her on the face during this race. I had no wish to have a similar experience.  I rounded the corner and started counting the buoys. 5 more buoys, 4 more, 3, 2, 1 and I am on shore, energized by the cheering crowd.

Those Cheers Counted
As I run through the transition area I see my mom cheering my name. She brings an instant smile to my face. I run into the changing area. There is a room full of volunteers waiting to help me do just about anything.  Put on my shoes, open my food, really anything you need.  I notice many women are changing into different clothes and wonder why they don’t just stay in their tri-suits… I’ll learn why later.

I run out of transition and there is another set of volunteers set up to lather participants in sunscreen. I see two encouraging friends, Kate and Sam (race volunteers) and I rush toward them and have them lather me up before the bike ride. I run to my bike, grab it and head out. 

The first seven miles along the oceanfront are very scenic. I tell myself to enjoy the view. It disappears too soon.  Volunteers steer me right, as I merge onto the long, flat highway that will be my companion for the next 90-ish miles.

Mental Challenge
After the first 10-15 miles of the ride I found my groove and it was no longer about the physical challenge, it was all mental. I remember a man passing me that had one leg and I thought about how incredible it was that he was doing this and only had one leg, AND HE PASSED ME. Let me repeat that, I have two legs  pushing the bike forward and the man with one leg passed me. Major respect right there.

There were many spectator signs like ‘Putting up these signs were tough too Bob!’ ‘Save some energy for me tonight honey, it’s been a while!’ ‘In 14 hours I get my husband back!’

The bike took 6 hour s and 45 minutes. There was only one time where I thought to myself that I was ready to be done, between miles 75 and 80. It was a gradual uphill with abrutal headwind to. I thought this was the longest (insert swear words here) 5 miles of my life.

I finally made it to the turn around point and it was smooth sailing in. With the wind at my back I was able to relax and coast back in. At mile 100 I got a little too relaxed, as I felt myself starting to nod off. Time for an internal pep talk, ‘Come on, you only have 12 more miles and then it is time for your first marathon.’

Passing the scenic oceanfront again, I made my way back to the transition area. I now see the crowds and hear them cheering for me and the other participants. I dismount from my bike, hand it to a volunteer, and run into the transition area for the last time.

Volunteers are again helping me change and get into my running gear. I eat a quick snack and read another note from Layne for some encouragement before the run. I had not really given much thought to the run. My focus had been all on the bike, thinking that would be the hard part. I would soon learn that I should have prepared a bit more for the run. For the time being I ran out of transition with a smile on my face and waved at my mom as I passed her.

Then it hit me
Around mile 1 it hits me. All the food and Gatorade I consumed during the bike has not digested well. I take an Imodium and pray for it to work fast. In my 

youth my family called me the ‘bathroom inspector’ because I was guaranteed to need to go to the bathroom all the time. For the next 3-4 miles I was stopping at every mile marker’s water stop to be the ‘Johnny on the spot inspector’.  Finally I caved and popped a second Imodium. After 2 more miles the second pill kicked in and I was able to make a good 3 to 4 miles nonstop.

Digestive issues aside,  I am enjoying the run like it was a block party. We are running through neighborhoods and people are dressed in costume with blaring music, drinking, and cheering on the runners. Their energy is a much-needed booster to keep my spirits up, and would definitely be needed in the miles to come.

Towards the end of the first half of the run my body starts to ache. My knees are a little achy and my dogs are really starting to bark. I see Kate and Sam cheering me on as I round the corner to pick up my special needs bag before heading back out for the second half. I sit down to put on a fresh pair of socks since the water that I have been dumping on myself has soaked my current pair. After about 4 or 5 minutes I’m finally up and heading back out.  

Digging in 
The last 13.1 miles of the Ironman was the most mentally and physically grueling task of my life. My feet and joints hurt, my stomach digestive issues were starting to resurf

ace, my stomach was queasy, and the salt that had made my way into my tri-suit during the swim was starting to rub me raw in places I never expected.

I knew I would soon start hitting the mental ‘wall’. The wall is when every single part of your body aches, and your mind is screaming at you to stop. I recalled the advice of the woman on the plane.

At some point you will want to break down and cry, and you will want to give up. Allow yourself to have a momentary pitty-party, cry if you need to. Then get back up and keep moving. Under no circumstances let anyone talk you into quitting. Someone might tell you that you’ve done ‘enough’ and you might tell yourself that too. Don’t listen. Pick yourself up and keep going.’

Congratulations on this big achievement Jess!  We’re all proud of you at CrossFit on 18th!