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From Iraqi Kurdistan to my first Ironman
By Jenniferย Connet
Connet started her Ironman training in Iraq. Photo: Sarbast Aziz
It was about a year ago that I got inspired to do an Ironman โ the thing that sparked my interest? An Ironman branded backpack I saw while on a flight. I was returning from the Philippines where I had just spent some time with friends who were all living in different countries. I was living in Iraq at the time, managing humanitarian aid and early recovery programs in communities affected by the war with ISIS. I had been living in the Middle East for nearly ten years and my annual get together with my friends was something I cherished. It just so happens that a fellow passenger used her Ironman backpack as a carry-on that day I was retuning to Iraq and I am so lucky she did … something about this backpack sparked an inspiration for me, and I spent the two day trip back to my remote posting dreaming of completing one these endurance races myself.
I knew that in order to get ready I would need to start training right away. ย While the temperature was still cool enough, I started a running club at my office in Iraqi Kurdistan. ย Really, it was just a few local colleagues that I convinced to come out to the desert to โrunโ with me in exchange for a proper Kurdish picnic. When they realized that what I meant by running was faster than a walk and lasted more than ten minutes, they started to bring their bikes to ride alongside me for support. Truck drivers would slow down to offer me a bottle of water or cheer me on with a wave. On weekdays I woke up early to run the quarter mile loop around the perimeter of my gated neighborhood. When the summer came, 120-degree heat forced me inside for training on a treadmill.
Run training in the Iraqi Kurdistan desert. Photo Ismail Kamil
Running in Iraqi Kurdistan. Photo Ismail Kamil
Back to California and Training in Santa Cruz
After Iraq, I took a break from work to move back to California and learn how to swim, get back on my bike, and train for Ironman Santa Rosa. I joined the Santa Cruz Triathlon Association (SCTA), where I met local triathlon coach Martin Spierings and joined his squad of athletes to prepare. Being a part of this triathlon community in the lead up to Ironman Santa Rosa was hugely important to supporting my goal, keeping me focused, and easing my work/life transition after having spent ten years abroad. When I needed a motivation boost, I reminded myself of my gratitude to be able to swim in the ocean and to run and bike outside safely, in the mountains, wearing shorts, breathing clean air. From January to race day May 11, I swam 120,000 yards, biked 1,560 miles up and down Highway 1 and ran 380 miles in the Santa Cruz mountains.
Race Morning
On race morning I woke up to a glittered poster my mom had put together for me with pictures supplied from my cheering team of friends from around the world โ the same friends I had been with in the Philippines a year earlier.ย This international cheer poster and 4am coffee got me pumped for the day ahead. Feeling proud to have ย committed myself to the training plan and thankful for the new friends I had made along the way, I drove to downtown Santa Rosa and caught one of the first buses to Lake Sonoma for the swim start.
The Swim
Not having a lot of swim confidence, I was expecting to start off the race defending myself against friendly punches and kicks in the water from 2000+ fellow competitors. But with the rolling start – where athletes self seed themselves based on their predicted time โ I was relieved to swim uninterrupted to the first buoy. It was coming around each turn where swimmers would converge and I would get my beating and resign to the back of the pack. I would take note of any color on the wetsuits and after the turn I would catch up before refocusing on staying calm and keeping my sight and my thoughts on the next buoy. Out of the water, everyone around me started to walk. I knew it was a long way to get up the steep, winding road to the transition area. With a lot of time to lose here and feeling surprisingly steady, I jogged my way up to the transition area, only stopping for the very cheerful wetsuit strippers who told me to get on the ground with my legs up so they could pull my wetsuit off.
The Bike
I rode out of transition on my bike and prepared to take it easy on the cold descent down from Lake Sonoma so that I could catch my breath. After making it to the bottom of the first descent, I forced myself to eat and then settled into my aero bars for the bumpy 112-mile course. Having trained up and down the coast and in the Santa Cruz mountains, the hills on the Santa Rosa course felt fun and manageable. I had worried most about the bike and what I would do mentally for six hours. I had planned to fill this time with thinking about my future steps, about the last year in Iraq, my motivation. Instead the time flew by as I counted down each 10-mile segment, rewarded myself with a water refill at each aid station, and focused on eating, drinking, breathing, repeat. When I realized three hours had gone by and I was halfway through the bike, I consciously reminded myself to look around and enjoy the moment โ the day I had worked towards for months was passing quickly.
The Run
Running the marathon of Ironman Santa Rosa. Photo: FinisherPix
Coming into T2 off the bike I was excited that my mind and legs felt ready for the marathon. I quickly changed shoes in the transition tent, and was grateful for the kind volunteers who emptied my transition bag, clipped on my race belt, and handed me my hat. After running through downtown Santa Rosa with cheers from my family and the crowd, I settled into my planned running pace and took off along the dusty out and back trail. For two miles I felt great and ran on my target pace. Then reality hit with stomach cramping and a realization that I was really running a full marathon โ a distance I had only run once before in a trail race. I spent a moment laughing at myself for not having fully grasped the craziness of running 26 miles after a 2.4-mile swim and 112-mile bike until that moment, and then embraced the pain and loved it even more. I slowed down, focused on my breathing, one mile at a time, and the excitement that I was really out there doing it. I looked forward to a routine of jogging through each aid station, pouring water on myself while I chugged cups of Coke and Gatorade.
The Finish Line
With two miles in the race to go, I dug deep and picked up the pace to run hard to the finish to meet my coach, teammates and family. I was in such a zone I didnโt notice the Ironman red carpet at the finish line or my name being announced as an Ironman. It didnโt matter to me because I was already excited to do it again and to get faster and stronger for the next time. I was grateful to replace the challenge of working for a humanitarian organization overseas with the challenge of training and racing an Ironman to help transition to life back in the States. And to that woman on the plane with a backpack that sparked a crazy idea.
