Nationals 2023 by Thea Zalunardo

Nationals, the trip that had been the bane of my existence for the month of March. It cannot be understated how little time I spent doing anything else other than nationals preparation in the few weeks leading up to the trip: from personal training to team logistics and planning. Every race this past season, my brain was filled with a healthy glaze of team issues, and none of my own. This trip was no different. I have come to actually prefer this; you can’t fret about your own race until you’re staring it in the face and you’re on the starting line because the rest of the time you have every problem except your own on your mind. 

The beginning of the itinerary, Wednesday April 12th, 23 of us loaded into vans at 4am to head to LAX. Our bikes had already left for Georgia with Paxton, Sean, and Ava a few days before. The journey to Georgia was relatively uneventful and we arrived at the cheapest motel Buford has to offer tired. We got dinner at chipotle and then headed to bed.

The next morning we went to Walmart for food and any other essentials and then we got breakfast at Waffle House. Following which we packed up our stuff and got ready to head to the race site. The same as last year, Margaritaville did not disappoint with its clear and beautiful water of lake lanier and beautiful white imported sand. The weather was foggy and rainy, but not cold. Megan, Ava, Dori, and I practiced some DL starts and fighting for a draft with Coach Matt. We stood in line for our packets and then other cars left to drive the bike course while DL people stayed behind. We had a DL meeting right after the coaches meeting. We killed the time in between by driving the bike course. While driving it finally occurred to me that I raced the very next day. And that it was DL. AND that it was only my second time ever doing a DL race, and it was at Nationals. And then I had a second triathlon the following day. My DL experience at Tritonman had been a ton of fun, but the swim had been brutal and I was scared I would have the same experience again. The DL meeting was the shortest meeting ever, and the race directors were blase about their explanations. I wasn’t sure whether to take this as a good or bad sign. We all got our packets and then headed to team dinner at Cava, where we ended the evening singing happy birthday to Maya! I headed to bed finally stressed having realized I was personally racing the next morning.

I slept fitfully and did not feel rested when my alarm went off at 5am. I was still sorta half asleep when I got downstairs to find that the trailer had been blocked in by a big truck. Ava, directed by Connor, did an amazing job maneuvering the trailer out. I felt like absolutely no help, which as president is sort of the worst feeling in the world. We got to the race site and set up transition. We put on our wetsuits and headed to the start area to warm-up in the water. However, due to lack of lifeguards, they did not let us warm up in the water so instead we just sat in the shallow area to get water in our wetsuits. None of this was helping my confidence. I needed a decent swim to catch a draft group on the bike and not get lapped out. Unlike Tritonman’s DL start, this was a run-in, which I much preferred. And I did not get drowned or punched, which was great. At a certain point I did have a lot of people grabbing my feet and overtaking me, but that was to be expected and it was not nearly as brutal. I had a goggle side slightly knocked off around the first buoy and spent the rest of the swim sighting with one eye. I was grateful to get out of the water and see properly. The T1 run was long with a nice steep hill and I used it to try and pass as many people as possible, with no idea where I actually was in the race order. I had been fretting the day before about being lapped out. Entering transition, I could tell from the amount of bikes left on the rack that I was somewhere in the middle of the pack, which relieved me a little. I mounted my bike right behind two girls and set off on the bike. This race was weirdly spread out on the bike, and I dealt with an annoying group of two girls who did not want or could not pull and then one who only wanted to pull but then would slow down when she did. They refused to work together and take turns. As a result the bike was a frustrating leg of the race, which was sad because drafting done properly can be a ton of fun. The race finished with the run, which also had some nice hills, though most of the run in my memory is a blur. I felt only pain on that run but Coach Matt’s unintentional encouragement of “You can slow down if you want, Megan is in a good placement”, fueled me to keep trying. On the run I also got to finally input the cheers from my teammates who were not racing DL. It’s funny as a racer what you block out and choose to ignore and what you do notice and hear. I do not remember any of them from the bike segment, though I know they were there. I finished happy that I hadn’t been lapped out and ecstatic that Megan and Ava had done so well!!

The best part of the day was cheering for Connor and Henry as they raced DL. With all my stress gone I could just have fun. I got to run around the course aided by the propeller hat, which spun as I cooled down/jogged for cheering. When it was time for the run portion, I ran to the far end of the course where the hills were. I was the only one out there other than the course monitors cheering people on and ran back and forth over the tunnel pass they ran under to catch them on either side for both laps. Whoever says cheering isn’t a sport is very wrong. I got about 3 miles total while running around cheering for the race. When they finished, we went to lunch and I spent the rest of the day rolling out and trying to get some homework done before the olympic race the next day.

I’m not sure what it is about olympic distances, but I’m way less stressed. I know I can maintain pace for long periods of time, and it seems easier mentally than going as hard as possible as fast as possible for a shorter length like the sprint triathlons. Also a benefit of having done the DL race the day before is that most of the race nerves, at the moment in that morning, were gone. The hardest part of my racing was over. There was no fear of being lapped out, I was there to just try my hardest and enjoy the race. 

We all lined up next to our wave number spots, multiple seas of collegiate athletes, all sporting their wave color cap. Those of us in wave 2 women’s sought out other UCSB teammates and made a small conglomerate to do our team cheer. In opposition to popularity, I am not a fan of doing the cheer. But it was a nice way to start the last race of the season, and end my collegiate Triathlon career. The first few waves of men and women took off and then I was lining up on the start line. The gun went off and I dove in. Oddly, this swim start was slightly more brutal than the DL start the day before, I think mostly due to the large numbers of people starting at once. I managed to catch onto the back of a line of girl’s swimming side by side around the first buoy, and managed to maintain that draft until the exit from the water. An even longer T1 run to transition than DL. I honestly have very little memory of getting out of the water or the first part of that run until I reached the bridge and coach Matt started blaring the siren on the megaphone. He had so much joy in torturing me in the middle of a race. Up the steep hill, find bike, wetsuit off, helmet on, mount bike (struggling to get my foot on top of my bike shoe) and I was off on the bike portion. 

The previous year at nationals I had been in the last wave of girls and athletes to be set off for the race and so spent the entire bike passing people struggling. It was the first race however I distinctly remember enjoying the bike and learning to push myself instead of just biking aimlesly. I enjoyed the rolling hills. This year, actually near girls my speed, I was able to choose a girl in front of me to keep pace with. The course, same as last year, was as fun and enjoyable as I remembered it. The bike is the longest portion of the race time wise by a long shot yet I barely remember anything from it. Each new stretch of land was another segment I tried to go faster on, into the next, and the next, … and the next. I made sure I shoved down one Gu not long after getting on the bike and then again near the end of the bike. I went purely based upon my knowledge of the course to estimate where I was at because I refuse to wear a watch during races. About halfway through the bike I caught sight of Dori, who was also in wave 2. Her and Megan are faster swimmers and so my overall goal was to hopefully catch them on the bike, but it is hard to know just how far ahead they will be out of the water. Dori was in my view for a while, but just out of reach. I stayed consistently the same length behind her for a long while. Eventually, I passed her, I’m sure choking out some half-thought-exhausted-race-brain words of encouragement. Having caught her, my next goal was to hopefully catch Megan. Not long after, I saw a small red bike in the distance. I passed Megan as she choked down a Gu. This is what reminded me to think about taking my second Gu. I also realized I needed to drink more of my water, as little as I felt like doing so. Forcing down Gu’s and water during a race is never easy and I tend to feel horrible after doing so, but all I can hear while racing is the coaches saying how much water and fuel successful athletes take during races; so I forced myself. As I biked back onto the island, I caught Gigi from wave 1. That last stretch hurt so bad, and the only thing keeping me going was Gigi pushing as hard beside me and that it was almost over. As I approached transition, my mind started to shift to the run. 

The run is by far my favorite leg of the race. During the sprint triathlons I usually sort of feel like I’m slowly dying on the runs and my heart rate is usually insanely high, and my breath very uncontrolled when I come off the bike. I learned the hard way at Tritonman that this leads to asthmatic issues and wheezing. I always take some albuterol before a race (some call it drug usage, I call it survival) however I also have an inhaler in transition. Coach Matt had my second inhaler. I biked into transition, dismounted (as I heard someone say “oh wow, a stop and then dismount” with slight disdain in their voice; some of us, by which I mean me, have not yet mastered a flying dismount or mount and apparently the spectator did not approve) and ran to my spot at the racks. The one thing I can say is that getting my feet in and out of my shoes on the bike has become almost second nature and I have no memory of doing either, but obviosuly must have. I took the extra 3 seconds to put on socks – which was a great call because everyone who didn’t had blisters or blood when they finished the race – and then stuffed my feet into my shoes. Of course, my quad cramped up. I shook my leg, desperate, half pretending it wasn’t there and started running out of transition. I came out right behind Gigi and in the first stretch (the same as the DL run from the day before), we passed Coach Matt, who told me to slow down and not overdue it. He assured me everyone else would die after the 5k, I just had to hold pace until then. I usually tend to listen to him, but I was surprisingly feeling really good and so did not slow down. I wasn’t sprinting or anything, but I just aimed to hold my pace consistently. Again, all based upon feel. I passed Gigi somewhere around mile 1 and got a horribly tired high five. Around mile 1.5 I had the realization that I had to run another 5 miles still. But I still felt fine, aside from my quad that was consistently on the verge of cramping, but as I said I was ignoring that. it was just a mental challenge. The course was essentially mostly uphill on the way out and mostly downhill on the way back. My goal was to utilize the uphill and pass people. I slowly passed girls one by one. The benefit of the out and back course was that you got to pass teammates. Every one of the guys I passed though looked like they were absolutely dying and all that was exchanged was eye contact. Paxton and Sean cheered for me as they passed by on the bike. I finally passed Ava on her way back and she gave a very encouraging high five. I then passed a girl on the side of the sidewalk near mile 3 having a full on asthma attack; I tried to yell at her to breathe regularly (which I know as someone with asthma is particularly unhelpful) and yelled at the next volunteer I saw that she needed help. This also made me realize I forgot to grab my inhaler out of transition. I had a mini moment of panic that I couldn’t breathe but then realized I was just psyching myself out. I didn’t need my inhaler, I felt fine.

I shoved down my 3rd Gu of the race just after mile 3, and felt horribly nauseous but convinced myself I was fine. Basically half of this race was convincing my body that I was totally okay even if I sorta wasn’t, but looking back I think it worked. Because despite all the things that came back to me while writing this, overall during the race, I really did feel strong and calm. I enjoyed the first set of twisting hills, and felt like I was running a cross country race. I passed the last water station and happily accepted water, but instead of drinking it, dumped it on top of my head to cool myself down. The final set of hills on the run back almost killed me. I sped-walked more than ran that final super steep hill, and tried to breathlessly cheer Harry on, who was struggling up the hill (only later did we find out he had broken his toe; nobody knows how). In the last stretch, Coach Matt encouragingly yelled at me that every place counted and it was the last stretch and the last hill (which was a blatant lie). Then, another coach got aggressively in my face because I was right behind a runner from his school and I almost pushed him out of the way. I rounded the last hill and heard teammates screaming at me. I raced a girl to the finish line and she beat me by a few seconds, but it was a great way to end the race!

I accepted water and stole as many of Welch's fruit snacks as possible. I made sure to drink the water but felt too nauseous to do anything else. Then I joined teammates to cheer on others near the finish line. The next hours of time went by very fast and included trying to eat and cheering. We finally went and collected our stuff, took team photos, and then grabbed stuff from transition and headed out. 

It was at this point as we reloaded the trailer, half of everyone lying on the ground too exhausted to move, that we realized the inner structure of the trailer was shaking a lot and needed to be fixed. We drove back to the hotel where I showered, ate, and then headed to home depot for supplies. The presidential duties never end. We fixed the trailer and then it was basically time for dinner soon after. I was exhausted and brought my canned and microwaved food to the restaurant and tried to just not fall asleep at the table. That evening I crashed so hard, relieved I didn't have to race again and hoping for a fun and restful next day. Unfortunately, that was not in the itinerary.

I thought last year after being stuck in the ATL airport for 27 hours straight and missing two flights was the worst nightmare nationals could be. I was wrong. Paxton and I’s itinerary, which so far had gone according to plan and smoothly, which was a relief and a huge success, unfortunately fell apart on the last day. We were so close to a perfect itinerary and everything going to plan.

The morning of MTR, I woke up early to go with the athletes, but for once, not racing. It was such a relief to just be there to cheer. Another part of me however was a little sad, realizing I had finished my last collegiate race with the team. This was the first time that thought had occurred to me. Megan and I focused on the task of cheering at hand. However, cheering is not a simple task. You have to be strategic about where you set up. We decided to go up near transition since you couldn’t switch between the start zone and the rest and of the race. We watch the T1 run, transition, and then found a good spot on the bike course/run course to set up. We watched Connor come up and bike and then run, and then Dori! We were in 7th. We turned after Dori passed us going down the last hill to watch other racers. About one minute later my phone dinged: 

<Triathlon Nats 2023>

James Pflaging: need a coach at the sharp right turn. Asap.

Part of me hoped that it was not Dori – that James was just looking out for another racer. But I called him. He picked up instantly and said something along the lines of “Get down here” (I honestly do not remember that whole moment of time is a blur). All I know is I started running. I’m not sure I ever communicated with Megan what was going on, but she followed. We sprinted down the hill, and when it got too muddy and I was slipping in my sandals, I started running on the road, which was part of the course. We got yelled at, but I didn’t particularly care. We got down there and saw Dori lying on the ground obviously in a lot of pain and not just recovering from a normal slide-out. The next bit of time was very confusing and stressful. Long story short, she eventually was transported to a hospital and Megan, Coach Matt, Daniel, and I drove there to meet her. The rest of that day was long. We spent the day first in a sketchy hospital waiting room and then in a nice surgical wing waiting room. I spent the entire time either on my phone communicating with people and figuring out logistics since we had left so abruptly and everyone else had still been at the race site or I simply zoned out. Dori’s dad managed to catch a flight out and we got to see her after her surgery. She was in bright spirits despite having broken her femur. I was so relieved she was ok. 

That evening when we returned from the hospital, I felt like I was in a different world. I realized my co-president, Paxton, had left long ago and it was just me in charge. Everyone else still had lots of energy. I, on the other hand, was utterly spent. I showered, ate – realizing I had barely eaten anything all day – and then packed. I went to bed later than I wanted and as a result got only 2 hours of sleep. The travel day back was long and I only managed to sleep on the drive to the airport and somewhat on the first short flight. By the time we reached the drive back, around 10am California time, after having left Georgia at 2am Georgia time, I was so confused and exhausted. We’d had a whole day of long flights and drives and it was only morning. The drive back to school felt short. I drifted in and out of sleep, or some form of it. When we reached UCSB’s parking lot I had a huge sense of relief and weight lift, however at the same time I was still so existentially stressed I didn’t want to stop moving. The final last leg of the trip, I returned the van to the TPS parking lot.

I thought doing that would bring a great feeling of relief, but my body was most definitely still running on stress and shock and keeping me going despite lack of sleep. I felt nothing. Just the need to go do something. When I got back to my apartment and my roomates welcome me back, happy and excited to hear about the trip, I realized I had nothing left. They asked about my races, which I had honestly sort of forgotten had ever happened after the day before. I had full on presidential burn out and emotional burn-out from worry. 

However despite it all, I would do it all over. The experience of racing was amazing, and looking back, my races went extremely well, and I can’t believe I only joined this club my junior year. I will never get to participate in this experience or race again (or at least until I break and inevitably go get my PhD). It is a sad/happy thought. The trip didn’t end on a high necessarily, but my final races and overall the nationals trip in general, were a great ending to my collegiate triathlete experience!