Pink Triathlete

I think it’s safe to say that if you are into triathlon you know what the word ‘kona’ means. It’s that goal that seems unachievable to mere mortals of the sport: where the best triathletes in the world gather to race on the most famous course, the home of triathlon.

Those of you who know me probably know that before I knew what triathlon even was, I wanted to do an Ironman. I remember seeing my first M-dot tattoos on many legs at my first half marathon and being curious- was there a cult of runners? No, turns out that was a secret code for Ironman too! And then after covid and finally getting to Ironman Austria there was the next goal: getting to Kona. There was no way I was going to qualify, I knew that! I am not naturally gifted in sport, but I am able to turn off my mind and endure; so the only way I was going to get there was through the Legacy programme. I planned to do 12 ironman races to do it. I had the next few years of my life planned out and dedicated to work towards it and I was going to achieve it, eventually.

In the last 2 years and 3 weeks I have raced 5 Ironman distance races. Austria, Lakesman, Portugal, Bolton and now, Kona.

One quarter of the way through my legacy goal, unexpectedly, Ironman decided to give women their own World Championship race. Their own Kona! As you can imagine it was controversial: 200 women racing became 2000 women (women make up about 10-15% of Ironman participants). Those lower in the age groups managed to get roll down slots (including myself). Suddenly, I was going to Kona 9 races early!

Kona

Imagine being surrounded by the most supportive people on the planet: everyone wishing you luck, complimenting your outfit, your hair, how your nails match your tri suit. ‘Kona is like Ironman on crack’ is what my friend, Ellen said. The atmosphere is pure joy and excitement. I sensed no competitiveness, no toxicity, just encouragement and happiness that we were all there sharing that moment. Everyday I swam in the ocean to the coffee boat and met fellow women athletes from all over the world: we joked, and above all we didn’t judge. I thought I’d feel self conscious thinking ‘her stomach is flatter’, ‘she looks faster’, but I never once considered it. We had all earned our right to be there. No matter what the trolls (and trust me there were many) thought.

Every event brought new excitement: The Underpants run where we paraded in custom Stomp the pedal Bikinis, The parade of nations (where Wales stole the show). Everyone wanted to throw freebies at us, wish us luck and admiration! Locals stopped us in the street to exclaim their admiration and best wishes- even the homeless.

Pre race

Having had a challenging and stressful race and lead up to Bolton where I qualified, I definitely cooled off on the approach to Kona. For me, the hard work to get here was enough and I had nothing more to prove than enjoy myself and complete the mission. However, I probably could have dialled back on the steps count the week before (20-30K a day, oops) which left me trying to be horizontal the most of the Friday to recover my sore left leg. We went for Pizza at Lava Java (vegetarian options are limited) upstairs in the Canyon popup (more freebies-yay- plus a perv at Chelsea Sodaro’s bike) and spent some time making charm bracelets with my race mantra and 3Ctri motto: ‘Don’t be shit”.

I slept surprisingly well, probably the best pre race sleep I’ve ever had. I managed to eat a Red bean paste bun on the walk down to the start and 500ml of 1000PH. Later, I shared a nature valley bar and drank a bottle of black coffee.

Walking down to the start I was focussed, ready to get into transition to pump my tyres and get my tattoos. But as I approached the finish line with its giant LED lights, the music playing hit me like a wave. It was Enya singing ‘May it Be’; a song that has never really meant anything to me specifically, but Enya is what I always associate with Christmas and my Grandma who passed away at that time before I even started this madness. And that song is from Lord of the rings and it finally made me feel like I was here, and so was she, and I’d made it to Mordor! My bike is named Calliope with her in mind (she loved the classics) and she was always proud of us, no matter what we did. So the song felt like a message from her.

May it be an evening star

Shines down upon you

May it be when darkness falls

Your heart will be true

You walk a lonely road

Oh, how far you are from home

Mornie utulie

Believe and you will find your way

Mornie alantie

A promise lives within you now

May it be the shadow’s call will fly away

May it be your journey on to light the day

When the night is overcome

You may rise to find the sun

I hurried on to drop my special needs bags (didn’t use them in the end but in the bike bag I packed another bean bun). My tattoos came off immediately so I spent some time going through transition the long way twice, much to the volunteers entertainment. I felt like I’d done enough steps pre race by this point.

I pumped my tyres with no drama- up to 80psi as I run tubeless. I remembered my bottles! Huzzah! Miracles do happen, apparently. The drama before I left the condo was me dropping one on the floor and it shattering (don’t ask me how that’s even possible) meaning I would be 300ml down as I had to replace it with a smaller bidon. Dull.

Swim

That start line. Well, describing the atmosphere will never do it justice. I sat in the pen with others in my age group (30-34). Most were roll downs like me and we chatted about how we couldn’t believe we were here. We stood for the national anthems and then they blew the conch shell to signify the start of the race. A drum beat thudded across the pier side echoing a heartbeat. Excitement building as we shuffled closer to the steps to descend, peeking at the madness in the water from the age groups ahead of us. Helicopters flew over us, volunteers and spectators cheering and giving us positive words.

We were in the water and swimming to the holding area. It was warm, perhaps 28degrees and crystal clear. Coral peppered the ocean floor and the ripples on the waters surface were reflected in the sandy ocean bottom. I saw fish of all colours: all the ones from finding Nemo, except Nemo himself, were present.

At the holding bouys were a chainsaw of paddlebarders making sure we stayed in line. We had to tread water for several minutes which was a great opportunity to release any nerves (if you know what I mean). The drum beats swelled and then the paddleboarders moved to let us swim through. I expected carnage from the most competitive race in the calendar, but actually it was fine. I tried to keep a good rhythm because I suspect my cadence lets me down on longer swims.

I wore a swim skin for this race which affords no bouyancy but makes you imitate a badly filled sausage and apparently helps you be more ‘aquaphobic’ which I hope doesn’t make me a racist to the mermaids or something. I’ll let the dolphins think what they like.

I tried to count bouys up to 12 but I must have miscounted because after 9 I swear the yacht at the turn point was surely next and then magically seemed to be further away. I stuck to the bouys closely because I can be a drifter and my eyesight isn’t the best (and I’m easily distracted). For a long time I swam shoulder to shoulder with another woman but the proximity actually made me uneasy as I didn’t want to squish her against the bouys so I deliberately changed the pace we had set and I tried to catch some delicious drafting off the toes around me. No cheeky gropes this swim and not many fishes to spot but the water was still beautiful, if a little salty.

At the turn yacht I spotted divers and free divers below me, watching us with alien faces and stuccoed bubbles rising towards us. Watching for sharks or cheating, I wasn’t sure. Evil dolphins, perhaps. Yes, that was more likely.

I felt my cadence drop on the way back but It didn’t feel as much of a drag in distance. The wave behind swam over me and one woman grabbed my shoulder, pushing me back to use as a lever. Rude.

Swallowing some salt water, I paid it no attention; I was more concerned with the ripping wound around my neck from the swim skin. The rawness stung with the salt and I knew it was going to be painful all day despite my industrial slather of vaseline this morning.

Finally, we reached the pier side and out of the water.

Time 1hr 25mins 37secs

Very pleased with the time as it was a non wetsuit swim and my training lake times had been far slower.

T1

They had hoses suspended to rinse off and then onto a very swift change. I had planned to wear sleeves to protect from the sun but because they made such a song and dance about wearing your arm tattoos correctly, I abandoned them in fear of being disqualified. My pink hair dripped a bit on the floor: hope I didn’t kill any fish! Well if I did then it certainly wasn’t my sunscreen as I can confirm the mineral, coral safe jobbie was utter rubbish. I had to run out and then back to the changing tent to find any sunscreen at all (sent in several different directions by volunteers) till I found a lady who gladly coated me in the totally superfluous cream. It was awful on my face and felt like oil sliding off my nose and chin.

7mins 30secs

Bike

Up the hill and a quick tour around town before joining the Queen K highway and following the same road. It’s a simple route but the course can be challenging with the weather. Lines of cars stranded at lights as we passed: most revelled smugly with the windows shut and the air con no doubt blazing but one car a woman greeted us with hysterical screams of ’Let us go home! It all about yooooooou!’. Okay love, calm down and get back to your climate control.

The famous Lava fields. Yes, I’d been warned about these. The scenery is somewhat bleak but offers you the opportunity to get into aero and stay there without fear of missing anything, really. The odd stealth photographer (quick, look more aero!) and on one occasion a confused goat up on the ridge, which became quite the talk amongst us as we passed the news up the line. It was hard not to draft with 2000 women on the road, but I did my best to complete my passes and not take the piss. I would say the referees didn’t seem too bothered. There were no pelotons but the 12m (or 6 riders) gap was a creative interpretation from many, on occasion. Now and then I’d extend a compliment to a trisuit I liked, or a pretty bike: all grateful received and retuned (my outfit was the best, not gonna lie). I passed a couple on a tandem and gave them a cheer which they returned: I was just happy to see something interesting for a change.

After 45kms it suddenly hit me where I was and I started getting emotional: on this iconic course at the first ever all women’s ironman world championship. We were all making history and totally smashing it. I didn’t know then but this is the first ironman ever where everyone completed the swim with the cutoff time. Absolutely amazing. I refocused and repeated my nutrition plan in my head because that is what will break you on this course. Im not great at hydrating day to day but I had to make an effort here and listen to my body.

I aimed to refill my bottle every aid station (I think I missed one), drinking 1.5 sachets of tailwind (raspberry with caffeine mixed with naked) with every 750ml water. That, with two packets of PH chews should hopefully give me enough carbs (I am between 70-80g an hour). I had enough extra carbs in Nakd bars and pretzels for variety in case my stomach decided to turn against me, but fortunately the chews worked and the solid food was like chewing gum when I tried it. My head started to pound 50miles in and I switched to a bottle of PH 1500 instead of tailwind, which cured it immediately. After that, I had a pain in my right foot to contend with for the next couple of hours. I switched between tri bars, hoods and drops to move the circulation but soon we reached the climb to Hawi and the descent allowed me to point my toes down and return the blood to them. Early on in the ride the pros passed me at breakneck speed and the rest of us cheered! On the uphills when the speed dropped I could feel the tarmac radiating heat below me and it was terrifying as if hell had opened up. If I fell off my bike I’m sure I would cook like a fried egg.

The ride back down the highway was clear but the midday sun beat down fiercely. I could actually feel me skin bubbling under the direct heat and I knew I was terribly burnt. I worried I may get sunstroke but I just had to focus on finishing the bike at all costs. On the actual course I felt really strong: I was made for this course it seems. Gently rolling and no turns or technical descents. Women complained the crosswinds were bad but it was nothing compared to my experience at Bolton. Even the rolling hills didn’t deter me as id be training in the Surrey Hills all year. I was aiming for a normalised power of 160w but the course was so flat and I just felt like enjoying myself rather than killing it so I trundled on at 144w. Who knows, I may have done an exceptional time if id stuck to a higher wattage but I was happy and I still got a Personal Best for a bike leg at an ironman.

Time: 6hrs 33mins 45secs

T2

I was so very very burnt. My neck was very sore like raw flesh and my arms were red hot. I had a cooling towel which out of the bag felt like it had been tumble dried for a year. Nutrition wise, I stuffed my pockets with 2 sachets of PH salt tablets and that was all. Apart from a head torch for later when there were no lights on the highway. Walking to the start this morning I had been in fipflops and managed to get a blister where the band rests but I could also feel a blister on my left ball of my foot. They felt okay in my trainers but I knew this marathon may be a long one.

6mins 48secs

Run

The final leg of my journey. The one I just have to endure. The start is cruelly uphill but then you are down into town and soaking up the atmosphere of supporters. The roads are peppered with chalk graffiti, flags of every nation, people complimenting my pink hair (a lot). We ran down Ali’i drive where the coffee houses are and the homeless stand by the sidwalk cheering along with everyone else. The first 5k were hard to get into. My heart felt fast and I kept having to stop and throw water over myself to calm down. I packed ice into my back pocket and I barely felt a cool trickle down my legs at all. I stuffed ice in my bra, down my back. I dunked my cooling towel at every aid station and it still felt hotter than running on the surface of the sun. It was hilly too. I tried to stick to 9 minutes of running, 1 of walking but I allowed myself to walk hills and aid stations. Every aid station I drank a cola as planned. But I also religiously popped a salt tab or two at the same time. I wanted to guzzle but I reined it in because I knew it would cause me gut pain.

After 10kms we ran up onto the unforgiving Queen K again. It stretched on and on never-ending. The dark tarmac burned from below, the sun pounded down on us and all the while the air was heavy with moisture. There was nothing to do but focus on the plan, tick off the aid stations and distract myself from the discomfort. A lady passed me and exclaimed she had followed me on the bike and that I was ‘A demon’. After receiving such a lovely comment I passed a few on to others. I chatted to several women and met people from all over America and the UK. The monotony and lack of anything interesting to see was tough. And then in the very distance I saw runners to the left through the trees: The energy Lab.

The energy lab is a cruel addition to the very straightforward out and back of the highway which essentially runs down a narrow road to the coast, along to a car park and then back up the hills. I feel that it receives a lot of hate and infamy for being unpleasant but the truth is as I hit that downhill to the coast and the most gorgeous sunset played out before me. The whole sky and sea were gold and silhouettes of runners flickered past till it slipped down and we were left in profound darkness. From the gloaming then came music where a Dj had been positioned at the red bull station. At mile 16 I walked the hill in the dark back out of the lab, enjoying the new additions of neon glow necklaces and head torches as I crunched ice cubes trying not to choke. I survived the lab.

The last stretch to Kona was the hardest. Now totally dark I longed for a sight of the next aid station. My feet sloshed as the melted ice pooled in my trainers and I knew blisters were forming there. To my left the beautiful mountain range of the big island glittered with amber porch lights and windows, like a cracked mound of lava with the heat shining through. I walked for a while beside a lady with a ‘Fuck cancer’ trisuit on and we admired the sight together. It was a special moment we shared, drinking in this crazy thing we were doing. The final 5k defeated me. I knew I was loosing momentum so as the hills rose I decided to run between each streetlamp, then walk the next. I think this new strategy worked well, even if it just kept me occupied. The last aid station appeared finally! But I celebrated too early and did not take a cola. That last stretch was the hardest. I wanted to walk, my legs were stumps of clay; I had nothing left. Then the hoka boardings appeared and I was running down the chute with hand outstretched to high five me! The blinding LED arch greeted me like a celebrity.

And that was it.

JESSICA HASSALL YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!

Time 5hrs 46seconds

I probably could have skipped a walk but, eh.

Total time: 13hrs 14mins 23 secs

So, it’s completed. The experience of a lifetime and I’m very grateful to have been there at an event that really proved woman deserve their place in sport. Days after people stopped us in the street to congratulate us (they probably could tell we raced from our dodgy burn lines). Not only was I living my best Barbie dream but hearing about the other stories was incredible. One woman from Brazil had introduced 50 women to cycling. Another woman, after being in a horrendous car accident with her three daughters, did the race whilst towing one daughter who had sever brain damage. Sadly, they did not finish but their story is still increabile. So many pros went below 9 hours; records were smashed by Ann Haug for her run and Lucy Charles overall. Every woman finished the swim, a new record. 97.2% finished outright. They say women will only attempt things they know they can do: well we all wanted it and I think the results prove that. Amazing results and inspiration all round, really. How could this be anything but the highlight of my Triathlon experience? Finally, being part of the most amazing team of women with our own epic kit to wear made me feel like I was flying the whole time. Stomp the pedal and the girls from the collective made this trip even more badass.

As an average triathlete to other women I will say this:

Take the damn slot.

Wear the damn bikini.

Show them what we can do!