The inaugural race in Sacramento, CA promised to be a fast course with its river swim, flat bike and run course.

With said promise, we signed up.

The race was supposed to be in 2021 but we deferred because of what else – covid. It was good decision though as last year’s race had a last minute cancellation because of the freak bomb cyclone.

Fast forward to 2022

Race day: we were up at 4 am to go to transition which opens at 445 am. Tried booking an Uber but couldn’t get one so we decided to walk in the cold dawn (12C!).
Donned our wetsuit halfway already to help keep us warm (also to save time putting it on, which takes like 30 mins) and started walking the 2 km road to the stadium.

About 300m in, a car pulled over and the couple offered us a ride. Thankful for the guardian angels sent our way, we of course happily hopped in. The husband was driving his wife to her 11th IM race! We felt like complete amateurs 😂

Dropped off our bike and run gear, checked the bikes then off to bus stop where shuttles would take us to the swim start.

Barefoot at the swim start, we were freezing. Definitely not helping our frazzled nerves 😬

As we seeded ourselves to 1:50 expected swim finish, pumped up music helped calmed our nerves and before we knew it, it was our turn to start!

As I stepped into the water, I was pleasantly surprised it was actually warmer than standing at the start.

Just like Dory (as I always tell myself at every swim), I repeatedly told to myself to keep on swimming and soon found myself with the rest at the halfway point. And after that buoy, I was swimming like a 🧜‍♀️, helped by the current.
A thousand more strokes and the finish pontoon was in site, signaling the end of the swim course. As soon as my feet touched the surface (and after a quick thank you God), I looked at my watch — 1:17.

What the?! I was that fast??? The swim was a dream come true — 3.8km at 1:17 — faster than I had ever imagined. I felt like Michael Phelps!

After a steep ramp, we were greeted by the strippers. Wetsuit strippers 😊 shouting to put the wetsuit halfway down and lie on my back so they can peel off the wetsuit. Thank you strippers!

Joyfully made my way to transition. Located inside Sacramento’s Sutter Health Stadium, it was quite a chilly 1.1 mile walk (as it was difficult to run barefoot) from the swim exit up to the bike start.

The 112-mile (180k) bike course consisted of a double loop in the countryside with beautiful vineyards view. This I got to appreciate when I saw the pictures after the race 😂 as I was busy praying the rosary in my head (I lost count how many mysteries I finished in that 8 hour bike ride) and trying my very best not to fall off my bike with the nasty winds!

And who wouldn’t – with 20 mph (32 kph -that’s signal #1 in the Philippines!) sustained winds and 35 mph (83 kph – equivalent to Signal #2!!) gusts!
I was quite fast (by my standards of course) outbound with a tailwind 💨 but was pathetically slow inbound with the headwinds and if that wasn’t enough – crosswinds in my windburned face. And dust in my eyes!!!

Thankfully, I was not blown off my bike but on the second loop, I had cloudy vision in my right 👁️ and could only see halfway. As if I wasn’t slow enough I had to slow down some more since it was starting to get dark. This made me painfully aware of the remaining 20 miles in what was starting to be a cool dusk.

Saw another cyclist on the road with same pace, and we chatted along the way. He told me it was his first ever race. He was on the verge of giving up as he thought for sure he was going to miss the cut off. Which meant, I would too and I couldn’t accept that. I told him we could still make it and encouraged him – and in a way, pushed myself too to one last push. After what felt like forever, we miraculously found ourselves near the bike finish and he profusely thanked me – saying he couldn’t have done it without my help.

We dismounted and were met with a race volunteer who said he was glad to see us as it was starting to get dark. I said thanks and asked how much time we had left for the run and was heartbroken to hear him say – I’m sorry you missed the cut off by 10 minutes.

After 10+ hours and 114 miles (183.5kms) of hard work, my mind refused to accept what he said and I just continued walking to rack my bike, where I saw Manny.

He made it to the bike cut off but unable to continue because like me, he had vision issues. Unfortunately for him though, both eyes were cloudy and he could only see shadows. At the medical tent, the doctor informed us that there were a lot who had same vision issues caused by the dust. They flushed our eyes with solution but said the effect would not be instantaneous.

With Manny unable to see, he decided not to continue with the run.

DNF. Did Not Finish. A hard word to swallow when you gave your all. Hard to accept when you had your best swim time and you felt good completing that 112 miles (180km) bike course with the brutal 💨💨💨

2 weeks after the race, I choose to suck it up, look for the positive and charge it all to experience/adventure.

Grateful for the organizers (great job ensuring the safety of 3k athletes!); kayakers, wetsuit strippers, volunteers at every aid station who handed out drinks, fruits, gels; families camping on their lawns clapping and cheering the participants with posters and cowbells, bike techs along the course, police, photographers – you are all incredible!

Fellow race participants of all ages, shapes, nationalities and physical abilities. I saw older athletes who were way faster than me –
an old lady in an air cast boot (!), a very respectful old chap who passed me twice informing me respectfully ‘passing on your left’ and thanked me each time he passed; blind bikers riding with guides in tandem – you are all an inspiration!

We trained. We knew we were ready but there are always things we can’t control – well, because that’s life.

We finished 2 out of 3 disciplines. We PRd the swim and completed a rather difficult bike course – safely. With the nasty winds, it was the same as climbing 7,000 feet of elevation and I daresay I’m now a better AND braver cyclist.

We DNF’d along with 12% of the participants but hey, someone said “The miracle isn’t that I finished. The miracle is that I had the courage to start.” I’d say the positives definitely outweigh the negatives so let me give DNF a whole new meaning then: Did Not Fail.