After 14 years dedicated to this beautiful sport called triathlon, there have been many experiences and events that somehow, I did not take the time to write down and share, until now.
I hope that this personal introspection exercise, will help those who have the desire to experience a long-distance event in a foreign country with another language, so different from our beloved Mexico.
The adventure started upon arrival in Penticton, British Columbia located in Western Canada. Arriving in a propeller plane, the town was so small and picturesque. Very much like our “magic towns” but with a Canadian touch. After taking in the view, we proceeded to the car rental counter to pick up our rental, reserved by the travel agency. When I showed them my credit card, they asked me to produce a card with my complete name on it. I tried to explain to them that in Mexico we no longer have credit cards with our name on them. I even had three cards from different banks, all without my name printed on them. I even told them that in the USA, I showed my bank statement with the number of the credit card (printed) and with my name on it, which they accepted.
I understood their internal rules and that nothing could be done at this point. Very kindly, they recommended me to another car rental agency, but they refused to rent a car to me as well. So, change of plan; improvising and finding solutions is something we know how to do! We had to look for a taxi, one that would fit my bicycle in a box. Given that one of the fun parts of the triathlon is to carry your bike everywhere, I was not planning to carry it all the way to town. Typically, there are companies which offer this service. But for an event of this size, it was not available. Van, my dear coach, and friend, sees a big car go by and stops it. Finally, a stranger (our first angel on this journey) had room to take us anyplace outside the airport and get us closer to the town. I must admit Mr. Van Sanchez has great initiative and thousands of ideas to achieve results.
We finally arrived at the house we rented together with an incredibly good friend who was going to be part of the event, and with many of his family members. This helps a lot regarding the expenses, we must remember that these events have no sponsorships and doing them abroad requires good logistic and financial planning. It was not time to check into the house just yet, but we convinced the housekeeper to allow us to take out the bike, assemble it, change our clothes, and organize ourselves to go grocery shopping.
The plan was to cook in the house as much as possible, not only because it is more economical, but also because in such a long competition, eating well and adequately is especially important. The first day was very productive; after doing our shopping, we jogged a bit in the afternoon, as the idea was to exercise. The trip from GDL-CDMX to Penticton took 7 hours, which included stops. Exercise and keeping active was my priority. Nothing crazy, just enough to stay loose. It was already too late to swim, but we decided to do it early the following day. On the way to the lake, we spotted a deer who was happily eating grass between the houses. He was not afraid of us; you could it was accustomed to being close to humans.
The swimming practice was extremely useful, it gave me an incredibly promising idea of the water temperature of the lake and what to expect on the competition day. I took with me neoprene, caps, boots, and gloves. I decided I would only use the neoprene suit, and nothing else. It was not as cold as the Florida event in February, where I used my boots all the time and had to use my thermal cap for 20 minutes.
By the time we arrived, Will Rogers (the other member of my team, my Canadian “crew”) had his truck ready. Here I take a pause to introduce you to Mr. Will Rogers, he is quite a character… I met him in 2018 when I had this singular idea of doing something more than an Ironman. This distance I knew already, and it is challenging, but I am an adventurous spirit. I admit I always look for “what is next” or “where is the limit,” if there is one. So, in Mexico, this event was new, UltraMX515, in Fresnillo Zacatecas México and organized by this young man, Van Sanchez. Van is another character who finished Ultraman being the youngest man in the world, at that time (he still is…) in finishing an Ultraman.
There I met both. Will was one of the few foreigners that travel to undertake this adventure. He is a veteran paramedic and philanthropist… (today he is 60 years old, but he has the youngest heart and soul I have ever met). The truck was ready, and the plan was to get the “kit” with the numbers. I was incredibly happy to see Steve King, Brad, Sigrid, and other familiar faces from previous editions. We filled in our formats, and received our numbers, instructions, and maps.
From there, we decided to take the road to “the wall.” Pre-race training plan was, little, roll and climb that area which is the most difficult one (after km 90 of the second day, there is 7 to 9 km of almost vertical ascent, heavy, close to the river). Will climbed his bike next to me while Van drove the van behind us… we started, one strong pedaling, another one, another one and we changed gears of the bike as long as we are climbing and the ground is asking for it… very good pace, I was feeling very happy, very strong…!¡ zas, zas, zas, on pace, breathing… I had plenty of leg and enthusiasm because I did not feel it heavy… everything was exceptionally good until “pop,” I hear a snap and the bike stopped, the chain broke and I fell to the ground.
It is important to mention that since we are clipped onto the bike, it´s difficult to unfasten yourself if there is no time in the current situation. The scratch on my knee was minimal, what´s concerning was figuring out how to fix the bike. Will reacted very quickly, remembered which bike shop in town could help us, and we loaded everything up to go straight to the store. Meanwhile, Van examined the chain and confirmed to me that it was unusable. Strange that they hadn´t noticed at the workshop when I sent it for a 100% check before the trip.
At the store, they told us they could repair the chain, but Van is convinced and told them no, that we wanted a new chain, the mechanic told us that in that case, we would have to change the gears due to wear…. but they didn´t have the replacement part… nor the time to wait for it… so we agreed that the chain would be repaired, and that was it. Of course, it had to be done quickly because the competition started on Friday. Thankfully, the bike was ready an hour before they closed at 5 pm that same day.
Thursday was the breakfast – brunch where Brad and Steve introduced all the participants. Each team gave thanks to the volunteers and support team, provided the final race instructions, and went over the rules. There was a detour due to road repairs, so there was a slight modification to the map for Friday´s route. We went over this detour in the car twice. Will wanted to make sure I would remember it, since despite having the GPS and the map loaded on the bike computer, this changed the original plan a bit. Since we all have different times coming out of the swim, it was to be expected that everyone would start alone, you don´t have anyone to follow on the route, and your team can´t follow you immediately, you must know the way and be prepared to be alone for a while.
Thursday night was extremely useful for checking emails, talking a bit with family, with my husband, and making sure everything was fine at home. Meanwhile, I prepared my things for the swim-to-bike transition, knowing that Van would bring it to me to change and take the bike as quickly as possible. We checked the food, cooked since it was Van’s “order” that I would have to eat mashed potatoes with rice as solid food because I couldn´t rely only on gels and electrolytes. He was noticeably clear that I would have to be nourished throughout the whole journey.
Everything ready, we all went to bed early because Friday was waiting for us with quite an adventure. We needed to be at the lake starting line by 6:15 am to register athletes and team leaders, check kayaks. Oh, didn´t I mention this before??!! For swimming, you need a kayak next to you to guide you, as crossing a lake and even though the visibility is exceptionally good, it can change. It could get cloudy, windy, rainy, and you need someone who can bring you food and water… I brought a water bottle, a thermos with coffee, and a bottle of electrolytes.
And, of course, several gels and bars that I would ask Will for every 45 minutes. He would oversee the kayak, and I would get the energy to keep swimming. It was meticulously calculated, and I had trained a lot so that I would exit the water well and be ready for the bike. That´s exactly what we did. According to the plan, every 45 minutes, Will would raise the oars as a signal that it was time. He would stop for a while, less than 1 minute, to have water and get based on how I was feeling.
Here, I will pause to describe the beautiful swimming time that one enjoys in Canada. The lake is named Okanagan. We started from Naramata Beach to reach the promenade in Penticton, a single line crossing the lake in a straight line. Nobody will tell you to drink the lake water, but it´s inevitable to taste it, sweet with a hint of mud. With so many mountains around, the water is so fresh and clean, it doesn´t make you suspicious if you end up swallowing a bit… very enjoyable swimming, although towards the end, the last 2 km close to the shore, you feel a current. Upon reaching the shore, you become a bit impatient, especially because you can already see the finish line and feel that you are not progressing fast enough.
Great, I finished the swim according to the plan, around 3 hours and 40 minutes… I heard Steve in the intermediate finish line tent narrating and providing data for each competitor as they exit. I swam almost two minutes faster than the last time, four years ago…at least today I swam better. We started off well.
I see Van on the shore cheering me on and holding my things for the swim-to-bike transition. There was a public restroom, but he asked me to go into the tent. Something I don´t like much, as the tent can lift with the wind, and when you are changing clothes, you end up putting on a “show.” I can´t help it, I am a bit conservative when it comes to changing clothes. Well, he hands me the bag, I no longer have the wetsuit or swimsuit… I dry off… and start putting on cycling shorts, and I cannot find my dry top or my socks!! Van starts pressuring me about time outside the tent, “How are you doing, Emma?”- (he uses my first name, many use the second one, Lucy, but is fine. He prefers the first one.
I told him that I could not find my top or socks… he says there´s nothing else in the bags. “Well, then there´s nothing “. I resign myself and put on the wet top again… but I cannot ride without socks, and the possibility of blisters from not wearing them terrifies me… Van told me “There are no socks, but I can lend you mine” and well, here come Van’s socks!! I was not going to make a fuss at this point and well, I finished getting dressed and went to find the bike. It already had water, and the jersey was stocked with gels. I ate something, a bag of chips with rice, hastily, while I overhead Brad telling Van about a problem with Ramiro´s kayak that had overturned near the shore. Well, with that nightmare in mind, Van rushes to see how to resolve it while I grab my bike and set off. I clipped in slowly, checked my steps, adjusted, and turned the corner… and “pop” again!! The chain drops on the turn, and of course, I am on the ground again, scraping the same spot as the day before… but the hit on the back on the curb was what hurt the most. Pain was the least of my worries… I had to fix the chain.
First, it wasn´t broken, it just came off. How? I don´t know, but it came off. I calmly stop, rub the sore spot, and focus on how to fix it. It took me a little while, but I got it fixed. I got back on to continue, took a deep breath, and entrusted myself to my guardian angel. Indeed, I remembered the route, but Heather, one of the three female competitors, was ahead of me, and that also helped boost my confidence on the road. Once on the main Street, I felt at ease. I focused on my pedaling rhythm, took deeper breaths, and enjoyed the scenery. The route was fast, and straightforward until we reached Osoyoos, another small town where, at around kilometer 60, I needed to refill the speed-fill. Instead of using bottles, I use a reservoir of about 1.2 liters, as it´s easier for me to have more water below the bike frame, sipping through a Straw and avoiding the need to move bottles around. This is because my ability to make those changes is poor, so the fewer movements I make on the bike to drink water, the better.
Eating from what I had in my jersey without stopping my biking pace was something that took me quite a while to learn, and it was important because every second counts in these events where there is a time cutoff, and I know that cycling isn´t my strong point. In Osoyoos, we refill water. My luxurious CREW supports me throughout, handing me more gels and food. The rule was to eat every 45 minutes and never feel hungry. As I started climbing the first hill, I remember that four years ago, I suffered from heatstroke at that very spot and needed to stop for almost 40 minutes to recover from the discomfort and the sun… that wouldn´t happen again; I had learned my lesson.
After conquering that climb, my crew caught up with me. They stuffed my jersey, top, and head with ice… I stopped to cool down and refocus on what was ahead: a series of constant ups and downs. Around kilometer 94, on the way to Keremeos, the terrain becomes flatter again. I distinctly remember feeling the sun intensely; I needed more food and water. I also stopped for my crew due to a sharp pain in my left foot. My metatarsal was swollen. At that moment, Van takes me off the bike, sits me down, removes my shoe, and sock, and applies a generous amount of Icy-hot to my foot. It felt so hot that the metatarsal pain vanished; the burning sensation was more painful. I got lost in my thoughts, my pace was good, and the landscape was beautiful.
In Olalla, we climbed again for about 8 kilometers until kilometer 124… getting close to the finish line of the first day. I remember that there was an extremely fast descent back to Penticton. That memory helped me realize we were close, and memories of my brother Amando, Nelly, and Vicki, who were helping me move forward with affection, even
though they lacked experience, were also there. It had been four years. I felt nostalgic, kept pedaling, and saw signs pointing to the finish line. My mind wandered between the past and the present, and time passed. I arrived contented before the 11-hour mark. It would be my best time for the first day in these 5 years of attempting to finish the Ultraman. I was happy because I didn´t feel exhausted, and I sensed the confidence that I could rest well and recover in time for the second day, which historically had been the most challenging for me. In the past, in none of my other attempts, had I been able to complete that second day.
That night, after dinner, Van took the time to talk with me, go over the details of the day, and review the strategy for the second day. He emphasized attitude; I needed to stay more positive. The most challenging day was coming up – regardless of the distance and the demanding route, the long hours in the sun, headwinds, reaching another town where we would sleep before starting the race again, and more. For me, it was clearly the hardest day to overcome. That difficulty, that mental block, is what Van perceived at some point. He stressed that I needed to believe in myself as well, that it was achievable. But all the advice and support from the team, and their belief in me, would be of no use if I couldn´t do it myself (believe in myself). We needed to spend less time at the stops and be more focused. Only then would I succeed. With these thoughts and memories of other years, I fell asleep soundly.
Second day, at 4:30 am, everything was ready for the long day ahead: breakfast, clothes, gear, etc.… making all the necessary trips to the bathroom to avoid having to stop on the way. It´s a ritual I´ve repeated so many times that there´s not much room for improvement.
We arrived at the starting line, attendance was taken for athletes and teams, and we started. The previous night, we changed our drinks, increasing the salt content. I needed it after experiencing cramps the day before, and we couldn´t risk another bout of leg cramps. So, we started at a steady pace, all in a pack, knowing we would spread out based on each person´s abilities or race strategy. I took one of the last positions, finding my comfortable, sustained, yet constant pace. The view was magnificent, with the road hugging the Edge of the lake and pine-covered mountains for a stretch before entering the vineyards along the road. Ramiro was ahead of me, and I followed him for a while to match his pace… until we came to a well-marked turn on the map with a sign. But Ramiro missed it and continued straight. I yelled, but he didn´t hear me. So, I passed by his crew and told them he went the wrong way. I shouted to Van, who was parked farther ahead, and he told me they would see him, but I should focus on my own race and that´s what I did for a long stretch. The first part of the race was quite like the first day; we reached Osoyoos again. However, after passing the 100-kilometer mark, we started climbing on the side of the mountain, towards the famous “Wall”. It´s a rural road with rivers and gorges, the ascent of high mountains, and many support teams, are much needed at that point. Van kept shouting at me to slow down, to go to a slower pace to avoid getting too winded, and I kept concentrating on climbing. Once at the top, you can see the looks of satisfaction. The accomplishment of the long, steep section and the chance to rest a bit.
However, the uphill sections continue for another 15 kilometers.
Ups and downs before reaching a false flat that stretches for 90 kilometers until Princeton. The notable challenge of this section is the headwinds throughout the route. I remembered in 2019, I could not go faster than 14 kilometers per hour… and I was mentally prepared for that to happen again. Thankfully, it did not. We faced headwinds, but they were short stretches and not as strong. The challenge was the heat. When we refilled our bottles, it was also about getting ice in my jersey, top, shorts, and head… we had to lower the temperature somehow. I remembered mentioning a little back pain due to fatigue, but nothing that a load of ice could not numb! So, that was my remedy all the way, and we continued like that until we reached the gas station in Princeton. Steve’s voice could be heard announcing those arriving at the finish line. For the slower ones, it was just one more loop towards Merritt, an out-and-back, and that day would be over. We had covered around 220 kilometers of the 280… only 60 kilometers left, and a significant part would be downhill. The outlook was positive, and Van decided it was a good moment to stop me, get me off the bike, give me a bathroom break, and practically drench me with a cold towel. They practically showered me with icy water. I ate a lot, two bags of mashed potatoes with salted rice, mmm, it tasted exquisite, and a soda or two… or three. But as all good things end, my break was over, and I was back on the bike.
My crew was incredibly positive, with Van and Will confirming that there was not much left. There were a few uphill sections on the other side of the town, at a controlled pace without pushing too hard. Van emphasized maintaining the pace rather than increasing it. The stretch leaving the other side of Princeton was quite beautiful, filled with trees and cool air, farms everywhere, and the sounds of lakes or rivers flowing. More than once, I felt insects hitting my glasses and bounce off my helmet. None got in, and if they did, they quickly flew out. At this point, my hair was “a universal mess.” With these songs and memories, I kept advancing and enjoying. I was surprised to see a group of athletes on the road – I spotted Ramiro, Anja, Miguel, Mark, Mathew, Hideho… and well, I thought that I was not as slow as I thought. There were still athletes behind me. I started to get lost in my thoughts again while enjoying the journey.
When I reached the point where we turned back with only 30 kilometers to the finish, Van stopped me again after performing his “double-handed bow” (haha, this guy, aside from scolding and pushing me, has his moments of humor). He granted me a few more minutes of rest, more ice, and another drenching. Dr. Gustavo had been cheering me on the entire way, encouraging me with a very Mexican style, saying “ajuajua” and phrases like “for God, Homeland, and Family” (like a beloved Scout saying from my childhood). It made my day.
Last advice from my coach: “It’s downhill,” “You’ll go fast,” “Enjoy the journey,” “Just move your legs,” “Don’t waste unnecessary energy,” “You’ve already arrived with complete certainty,” and “We’ll see you at the finish line.” … And the truth is, I felt fresh and happy, overall, I was feeling good, so that is what I did. I filled my mind with happy thoughts and began the return, trying to control my speed on the descents, feeling the wind, the warmth of the sun, and the sound of water. I thanked the Creator for allowing me to be present and for carrying the presence of my parents, who are surely watching over me from above. It was a mystical and beautiful moment all the way to the finish line.
I arrived calmly, with hugs, kisses, and congratulations all around. They offered me a chair, we rested, drank water, and I ate the chicken with rice that Van had cooked the previous day. Wow, they treated me like a queen – not even at home am I treated this well (without undermining the attentiveness and love of my caring husband who was praying to all the saints for me).
We arrived at the hotel, got things ready, enjoyed a good bath, and then headed out to find dinner before going to sleep. There were not many options, so we went for fast food and prepared what we needed for our double marathon the next day. Of course, Van had a strategy in mind, which he shared with me, offering two options: a) divide the 12 hours into three parts, starting with a fast pace, then transitioning to an intermediate pace, and finally completing the last third according to my remaining energy; or b) maintain a consistent pace throughout, knowing that it would be a very comfortable yet sustainable pace, leaving little room for extra time, possibly finishing just half an hour before the cutoff.
We opted for the second option and set a pace of 8 minutes and 10 seconds per kilometer. Knowing there would be many uphill and downhill sections, we aimed not to exceed an additional 20 seconds on uphill’s and to take full advantage of the downhill stretches. I went to bed listening to congratulatory messages from my siblings, hearing the beautiful voice of my husband. They even shared an audio recording of Mom cheering me on during the Florida event in February when her health was fragile, but she still had the spirit to offer encouragement and sent me all her love and positive energy… it was a night of many emotions! And so, I went to rest until hunger woke me up at one in the morning! That was not ideal, but there was nothing to do but eat protein bars and dehydrated nuts I had from the bike, a sandwich I found, and then sleep again.
Third day: A cup of great coffee (well, correction, just coffee, not that great) at 5 am, a bit of oatmeal, some cookies, and I was ready to begin. Cool morning, I had a long-sleeved shirt on which I intended to keep on throughout – I did not want to carry a jacket as I knew I would warm up quickly and it would be cumbersome. As we parked for the starting line, I looked at the sky and saw a rainbow ribbon peeking through the clouds. I do not know if everyone noticed it, but it was a sign from Mom and Dad blessing my day, assuring me that everything would be fine and that I would have a good journey ahead. I thanked God, as I do every day, for this gift of life, and I joined my fellow athletes at the starting line. By now, a sense of camaraderie had formed among us all.
Anja hugged me before we set off and told me she was truly anxious about this day as she had never run more than 60 km. I told her to trust in herself and follow her plan – surely everything would go well, and that is how we began.
We all started at our own pace, and I followed mine. Each kilometer, I checked my pace, and I was going faster than planned – I had to slow down several times. Meanwhile, Van escorted me along the way – of course, he naturally runs faster than me – he would stop, catch up with me, check my pace, sing, chat, making the journey pleasant. He was like my “conscience,” like Jimmy Cricket to Pinocchio. Not too much water, just enough, only the necessary food and gels, “pian pianito,” step by step. At some point, he told me to speed up, but I told him that my Garmin was showing an 8:10 pace. I could accelerate, but it would not align with the plan. There was clearly a difference between his Garmin and mine, but initially, it was not apparent. So, we moved through the first 10 km, the half marathon, and at some point, almost reaching the marathon distance, the gravel section began, and the pavement ended.
Van told me to try to keep up with the guys ahead. I am not sure if it was Mathew, but he was running and walking due to a knee injury. At that point, someone at a slower pace caught up to me. As we got through the gravel section, Vedant, another athlete, joined me, with his team following in a vehicle. He had decided to end his day and get in the car (a decision to get in the car meant withdrawing from the competition). With a good song playing on his car’s speaker, he got out of the car and started jogging with me. He kindly offered me his sunglasses, even though I do not run with sunglasses – I have never done it because I enjoy the light and the clarity of the day. Still, I thanked him, and we listened to music together while jogging. This 23-year-old Hindu man had a big heart. On the first day, he congratulated me on finishing, and on the second day, I remember him finishing feeling very tired. That was taking its toll on the third day, so he could not continue, but he accompanied me with great spirits. His team members were amazing.
There was another team, a Polish gentleman whose name I cannot remember. He kindly offered me wildflowers from the roadside and jogged with me for a while, engaging in conversation – asking whether swimming, biking, or running was my strongest discipline. Haha, I have always said I am consistent – consistently mediocre in all of them! I enjoy them all. I told him I was “lousy,” but he heard “lazy,” and he laughed and said that anyone doing this could not be lazy. We shared the road with vehicles from other competitors – Hideho’s family was also cheering for us. They were offering encouragement, and I am sorry I did not remember more names, but many along the way showed kindness. At some point, it felt like a big party – you could not stop, but there was a chance to interact, converse, and enjoy the company. Trotting through the beautiful Canadian mountains and magnificent landscapes is always pleasant, although the sun was starting to get intense. At a certain point, Van gave me his fisherman-style hat as my visor was not providing enough shade, and that is when the ice session began – water, coke, electrolytes, and some food, although I was not wanting to eat much at this point. I was craving fruit – an orange, a banana, an apple – anything. Van had to stop and look in a house on the road for a banana, and another crew kindly offered me berries. Everyone brought me something I could digest. We had just passed the 55 km mark (according to my Garmin), and the mosquitoes started to appear, just as we had expected (I remembered the swarms of insects from 2019). We were prepared with bug repellent – Van sprayed me generously, which helped to keep them away. At least that would save energy by not having to swat them off.
It was around kilometer 78 on my Garmin, and I was quite content because, in my mind, I thought I only had 6 km left, and we still had an hour and a half before the cutoff. I thought I would have plenty of time left, and even though I was tired, I could manage a little more without any issues. However, at this point, I noticed that Will was quite engrossed in checking numbers. Van’s Garmin and mine were not matching, and neither did the odometer nor the GPS on the vehicle. I do not recall if I asked the question or if Will decided to tell me, but just as I was happily stating that I had only 6 km left, he said, “No, you have 16 km to go.”
At that moment, I felt like all the blood drained from my body, as if I had been struck in the head. I finally understood why Simon, one of the elite athletes who finished much earlier and was now on the course helping us, had told me to speed up because I would not make it. I remembered telling him that I could not run at his pace, but his words had not made sense to me back then. Now, they made perfect sense.
With this latest information, I had 16 kilometers left to run and only an hour and a half to do it. It meant I could not stop anymore and had to push the pace, going faster than I had been for the past 10 hours. My time buffer had completely disappeared, and while it was possible to achieve, it would demand everything from me. In those dark moments in my mind, Heidi (part of Vedant’s crew) was running with me and had decided to be my pacer until the end, which I immensely appreciated. Van was also running alongside me, but his style was more intense – he was pushing the pace. I yelled at him, saying he was going too fast, and he responded, “If you have the strength to yell, you have the strength to run.” That simple logic crushed me. However, I was already dealing with so much stress, anger, fear, and frustration that some female companionship would be a better remedy for the road. We all understood it that way. Heidi told me about her experience from the previous year when she also finished UltraMan Canada. It happened to be her birthday that day, and what an incredible way to celebrate it – on the road, pacing me (living the principles of Aloha, Ohana, and Kokua). She talked about her participation in the EPIC race in Hawaii and her qualification for the world championship. She shared a lot with me, and I was grateful for it because it distracted me from the flood of emotions that suddenly hit me, knowing my reality. More than once, tears of fear and helplessness welled up in my eyes. The gravel road seemed never-ending, and I was beginning to feel the fatigue of the day. We played a game of running in short segments – she would point out a spot to run to, we would reach it, and then we would pick another spot. That is how we kept moving forward. Heidi kindly offered to hand me cups of water or Coke at times so I would not have to stop. More than once, I told Van I would not stop, but of course, he knew I still needed water every now and then. It was a tough hour, but they tried to make it as easy as possible for me.
At kilometer 75 (actual distance), on the pavement and descending into the town at full speed, I got distracted and lost sight of Heidi and the vehicle. I assumed they continued straight ahead, but I was not sure. For a moment, my mind played tricks on me, and I thought I had taken a wrong turn. But I could not afford to waste any more time, so I decided to keep moving forward. With joy, I saw the vehicle in the distance, and I noticed Van was giving Heidi a watch – one with precise GPS data in kilometers. I no longer had my Garmin; it had stopped working around 85 km, so I decided to let Van hold onto it. I
did not have my visor or hat either; I was as lightweight as possible. From kilometer 80 to the finish line, I heard Van say to me, “It’s yours now, but don’t let go of it,” and “Don’t let it slip through your fingers” (or perhaps the right thing to say was not to let it slip through my feet).
Every now and then, my ankle would ache a little, but I decided to ignore any pain. I pushed the pace, recalling all the previous attempts to finish, my siblings, my husband, my friends who had been part of the crew, the training, the words of encouragement from my mother and sister along the way. Everything was on my mind. Suddenly, with 2 km to go, I saw many people coming closer and running alongside me. They told me they had believed in me, while others were saying to make room because I could not enter the finish line surrounded by people, or I might get disqualified. As I turned a corner, I saw the finish line ahead. Van handed me the flag, and I extended it as I increased my pace. I could hear my heart pounding with excitement, and an overwhelming joy filled me. I was crossing the finish line. I heard Steve announcing my arrival and saw many faces waiting for me, smiling, and applauding.
And I collapsed in happiness, tears streaming down as I crossed the finish line. Many hugs and congratulations surrounded me. At that moment, I thought that after my wedding day, was the happiest day of my life, and thanks to God, I have been blessed with many joyful days.
Walking back to the car before leaving, Heather (the female athlete who took first place) comes over to congratulate me with a warm and fraternal hug… and the same happens with Hideho, the Japanese athlete whose family supported me throughout the race. It is in these moments when you exchange glances, not speaking the same language at all, yet sharing the same feelings of joy and accomplishment. We are not so different – all of us human beings who embrace sports that uplift the human spirit.
Here ends the race story, but there is still one more part left, which is not less important just because it is the last: the awards ceremony and closing.
It is the following day at 5:30 in the evening, during dinner. Brad and Steve, along with the entire team of collaborators, coordinate the trophy presentation and leave the microphone open for teams and athletes to share their experiences and interesting facts with everyone. Additionally, the “Aloha-Ohana and Kokua” trophy is awarded, representing the essence of this sport (love, family, and assistance).
I dedicate a few paragraphs to it because it is a very emotional and authentic ceremony.
Do you remember what initially brought you to travel so far to accomplish this feat, what happened along the way, and what you are taking with you for the future… and we all have our own story, both those who finish as “participants” and those who finish as “finishers”.
After I spoke, in my very basic English, thanking (although I will never thank them enough), my great team Will and Van, and sharing with everyone about my journey of 5 years and 6 attempts chasing this distance and what it meant to me to face the challenge of humbly accepting orders from Van, who could be my son in age. I concluded with words in Spanish, as Van asked me to do, for those who, over time and distance, are Spanish speakers, to leave them with a message from me.
It was this: “I am so grateful to those who have followed me all this way. Friends, my husband, my brothers, and sisters, and to tell them that it’s never too late to chase a dream, that there are no impossibilities, and we must never give up.”
I finished the speech, and we moved on to the awards ceremony. You cannot imagine my surprise when I received the “ALOHA” award!! The way they presented this award was beautiful, Brad said:
“Everyone is ultimately here for the love of triathlon, for this long-distance sport. And who has shown more love than someone who has persevered so much and demonstrated it as much as Lucy Centeno”. WOW! The night truly became special. I do not deserve such distinction, but if it appeared so in the eyes of foreigners who have witnessed so much! They saw something more than courage and worth in this effort during the weekend; they saw love, and what is greater than that?
The next Ohana award went to my dear Will Rogers, who, having finished assisting me with the kayak, immediately took it up again upon learning that Ramiro, another athlete on the course, was left without support as his kayak had flipped, and unless he wanted to be disqualified, he needed another kayak. Will did not hesitate for a second to offer his help. That is indeed what family does. We now have a Canadian with a Mexican heart in Penticton!”
So it was a beautiful night (by the way, my dress wouldn’t have looked the same if it weren’t for the incredible mother of Will, Mrs. Janeth Rogers, who, upon learning about the dinner and that I would be wearing flip-flops since I didn’t have formal shoes, gifted me a pair of heels that matched perfectly).
On the day of departure, I woke up with my thoughts, assimilating all those emotions… dreaming about the next one (would there be a next one?), which one? But that is another story…