The race I got a flat tire…and had a panic attack

In October 2021, I made the decision to take on my very first Olympic triathlon in Montauk, NY. It had been a summer of intense training, gearing up for what would undoubtedly be the most challenging triathlon I had ever attempted. Swim training was progressing smoothly, the bike sessions were building my strength, even though I’d been accustomed to racing on a mountain bike, and the run… Well, the run was what had me feeling the most jittery. After utilizing my arms during the swim and pushing my legs to the limit on the bike, the thought of a 10k run felt incredibly daunting.

But as they say, the universe has a sense of humor, because upon completing the race, the run turned out to be the easiest part for me. The day started off well, with promising weather and a sense of strength as I woke up that morning, albeit with a touch of pre-race jitters. There’s always that irrational fear of oversleeping and missing the alarm, though it’s never happened!

This race marked a first for me in wearing a wetsuit! Previously, I’d been the girl tackling triathlons in a swimsuit and whatever clothes I could throw on top. It wasn’t until after this race that my husband, lovingly dubbed Dadjogger, spoiled me with all the luxuries of triathlon gear – a tri suit, a bike support bag (which would’ve been a game-changer for this race), and a better bike. I was geared up and ready to go, feeling like Scuba Steve as I zipped up my wetsuit. Little did I know, the swim was about to change the course of the whole race!

Jumping into the open water, which was surprisingly warm thanks to the wetsuit, I was greeted by the chaotic start typical of open water swims. It’s a free-for-all out there – kicks to the face, a toe in the nose, and zero visibility. I thought I was prepared, given my experience in sprint triathlons, but this time felt different, and not in a good way. The buoyancy promised by the wetsuit was meant to be a game-changer, but instead, it triggered a full-blown panic attack.

My arms felt confined, my legs were my only source of propulsion, and my mind spiraled into panic mode. It was my first experience with a panic attack, and of all places, it had to happen in the water. Despite the struggle, I pushed through, albeit much slower than anticipated. I’m pretty sure my family thought I’d drowned because the swim took me longer than expected, but as I finally made it to solid ground, I was just grateful to be out of the water.

With the swim behind me, it was onto the bike, which I assumed would be a breeze despite the notorious Montauk hills. Cruising along confidently, I hit a snag at mile 19 – my bike tire decided to call it quits due to a nail on the course. Stuck in the middle of nowhere at the end of the first lap, panic threatened to overwhelm me once again. But rather than giving in, I soldiered on, even as fellow racers pointed out my flat tire.

With no repair kit and no options to stop, all I could do was pedal onward as fast as possible. 

Frustration welled up, tears flowed freely, but I refused to give up. I lifted up my butt and tried to put the minimal amount of weight on the back tire. I kept on moving. I had at least four people let me know “Hey you have a flat”, in which my reaction was “Thanks, I know” or reactions like “Oh man, you have a flat, that sucks! In which, my reaction again was “Thanks, I know”!  Finally reaching the finish line after what felt like an eternity on one tire, I was overcome with relief and a sense of accomplishment. Happy tears streamed down my face when I heard the crowds cheering and I knew that I was close. 

I had made it 6 miles on one tire and my thighs felt every inch of that journey. I jumped off and was thinking that I don’t think I can finish this race based on the status of my legs. How could I now run a 10k? But thanks to the giant cheers of my kids, Will, mom, brother, and sister – I said “here we go bro!”

With each step, my legs screamed in protest, but the finish line was close and I told myself to keep going. Crossing that finish line, ecstatic but exhausted, was one of the most gratifying moments of my life, despite it being far from my best race.

From that day forward, I learned the importance of preparation, the value of proper gear, and the resilience to overcome any obstacle. I owe a huge thank you to my husband for his thoughtful gifts that Christmas, and to my mom for instilling in me the belief that life’s challenges are simply opportunities for growth. As she always says, the lessons will keep coming, and it’s how we face them that defines us.