I’ve been an athlete for as long as I can remember. To be honest, I just can’t sit still. While I wasn't exactly a standout in high school, I found my stride in college playing lacrosse and field hockey. Everything truly shifted in the early 2000s when I found cycling; that was when the competitive switch flipped. After a few years of racing, I found myself on several podiums and eventually at the top of the CCCX Series, and the NCNCA Championship series.
I loved the bike, but I missed the rhythm of running. I toyed with triathlon starting in 2012, but two years of coming out of the water near the back of the pack—only to have to pass everyone on the bike and run—convinced me that swimming just wasn't my calling. By 2016, I found my "sweet spot" in Duathlon. The Run-Bike-Run life suited me perfectly; I spent years on the podium and eventually represented Team USA at the World Championships in Denmark.
Then, life—and biology—happened.
Between the world shifting during COVID, my coaching business taking off, and navigating the rollercoaster of menopause, my own training took a backseat. For the first time in decades, I stopped prioritizing the athlete in me to focus on the athletes I coach. My racing shoes have been gathering dust for over a year.
That changes in a few short weeks.
Choosing the Challenge
The triathlon club I coach is heading to the Wildflower Triathlon Festival, and while browsing the race options, the 20k Trail Run jumped out at me. I didn't want a 5k or 10k through the camp; I wanted something that felt like a feat. The 20k starts at 11:30 AM—peak heat, right in the middle of the Half Ironman—which means I won’t miss my athletes finishing, but I will be facing 12.4 miles of legendary, "exposed" Wildflower terrain.
It’s just long enough that I can’t "fake" it. I actually have to train.
But training as a masters athlete in a winter heatwave means I can't just follow a generic plan. I have to be my own best experiment. This isn't about placement; it’s about enjoying the festival, the community, and the dirt. It’s a return to the easiest entry point for me right now, and frankly, I missed the feeling of a race bib.
The Gear Shift: Listening to New Needs
Part of this journey means acknowledging that my body has changed. I used to be a die-hard fan of zero-drop, low-stack shoes like the Topo Athletic Runventure. I loved the ground feel. But menopause changes your physiology in unexpected ways; for me, it manifested as increased sensitivity on the soles of my feet.
From a rehab perspective, this makes sense. Estrogen loss can lead to a decrease in the fat pads on our soles and changes in connective tissue. I had to toss my old shoes and start fresh with the Brooks Catamount. I needed a rock plate for protection and a bit more support underfoot. If your feet feel more sensitive lately, don't push through—pivot your gear.
The "Short but Focused" Build
Transitioning from a general "base building" phase to a specific 6-week race prep was a wake-up call. Before signing up, I was just "training"—a ride here, a strength session there—but nothing was targeted.
Week 1 was the baseline test: three runs and two rides, including an 8.5-mile trail run with significant climbing. The result? I was cooked. It was a stark reminder that as our physiology changes, our "recovery budget" shifts. To handle the load, I had to:
Aggressively prioritize sleep: My evenings were cut short to ensure I was in bed earlier.
Increase caloric intake: I had to fuel the work, not just the day.
Lean into the rehab toolkit: Stretching, the massage gun, and Normatec boots became non-negotiable.
By Week 2, because I respected the recovery needs of Week 1, I felt strong enough to handle 800m repeats and back-to-back trail days.
The "Un-Glamorous" Strength Strategy
While the trail runs get the mileage, the real work happens in the gym 3–4 times a week. With only weeks to go, this isn’t the time for max-effort heavy lifting that would fry my central nervous system. Instead, my 30-minute sessions focus on stability and strength-endurance.
Trail racing is notorious for "ankle-biters." As a rehab specialist, I know a sturdy athlete is a safe athlete. I’m prioritizing total-body coordination—movements like overhead press and squat combos that teach the core to transfer force efficiently. It’s the "insurance policy" that ensures I enjoy the festival rather than nursing a preventable injury.
The Goal: A "Welcome Home"
In the past, my goals were defined by seconds and podium steps. This time, "just finishing" is the victory. I’m going in with eyes wide open: six weeks of training isn’t enough to replicate elite fitness, and that’s okay.
To keep the pressure off, I’m leaning into my inner goofball. If I’m not chasing a PR, I might as well make people smile! You might see me in a loud floral tech-trucker hat, some mismatched superhero socks, or even running backwards.
Final Thought: Just Show Up
To my athletes and my fellow 40+ women: don't let the fear of not being "at your peak" keep you from the starting line. Whether you have 20 weeks of training or six, there is immense value in simply being part of the movement.
See you at the Lake!
