Moving Forward: The Art of Transition

October 6, 2026

They say you cannot win races in the transition, but you can lose them. Just like in motorsports, you can win or lose a race in the pits; in the game of triathlon, you can lose the race in T1 or T2. Fumbling to get out of your wetsuit. Bike shoe not clipping in. God forbid you leave transition without your race fuel. All the little things that can lead to losing your race.

For me, the goal of every tri, all nine, was just to finish. Therefore, when I saw people running by me from sport to sport, and I just sort of took my time walking, not running, I have never run in transition; I just let it all pass by. Didn’t spend too much time thinking about it. I would head over to find a seat, sit down, and wiggle my double-sized body out of my wetsuit. Get the sand out from between my toes. When my coach told me to get going, I smiled and waved. I started, therefore, I had already won. It wasn’t a race for me; transitions were rest areas. I think my first T1, swim to bike, was ten minutes. My T2 transition (bike to run) was another five minutes. I was the slowest T1, and almost the slowest T2.

Last week I went into another transition. However, unlike my first T1, I ran into this one, and I mean ran, but we will get there. With the help of my coach and my trainer, I am going from cyclist back to triathlete. Summer of 2027, the goal is to do a half Ironman distance triathlon or a 70.3.

Rachel, my dear friend, who got me into the game of triathlon, and my goal was always to do an Ironman. I don’t know why. I am sure Freud could do a case study on us and figure that out. That isn’t my job. However, with me never having the desire to sit in a bike saddle for over seventy miles ever again, that isn’t on the table. So, when I sat down and discussed my goals with Coach Jenn, and she said I could be ready to do a half Ironman next summer (2027), I was over the moon. I was editing my novel and training for a half Ironman; I was living my dream. I told you about this back in August. Before I forget to mention it, I was going to run and not walk the half marathon at the end.

Do something scary every day! That is how you grow. Well, last Tuesday I grew. I went on my first run in over 20 years. How’d it go? I ran for all of two minutes. Then walked. Then jogged, then walked. Doesn’t matter. What matters is that I did something terrifying, and I lived.

Then came Sunday. I was out on the trail doing speed exercises for running. Again, this was more of a walk-run combination for me. It doesn’t matter; I went out and did it. Enjoyed it even. So much better than Tuesday.

On Monday, I was back on the trail doing a run-walk. It lasted just ten minutes. That was the prescribed time from the coach. My shins hate me right now. I get awful shin splints and have to remember to start slow. More importantly, is what happened after that.

1,400 yards in the pool. The blackfish is back, baby! Swimming is second nature to me, and other than my 2X compression shorts being a little too big and wanting to come down on a strong wall push-off, the swim was awesome. The 200 warm-up was handled wihtout a stop. Not bad for not being in the pool for 3 years. On the 500 primary set, I paused after 250 yards, I won’t lie, but I was off the wall before you could say boo. The only thing that bothered me was the kick drills, hurt the shins, but that was because they were already barking. I was awesome in the pool, back in my natural element.

The other big transition last week was the final purge. Or one of the final purges, I should say. My niece came over and helped me purge my clothes. I threw away all the items I had held onto out of concern I might need them again someday, such as the 4X and 5X remnants. I discarded any 3X that appeared too large. Not sure how many thousands of dollars in clothing I got rid of, but several thousand comes to mind.

I kept two 4X shirts; the first was the Team in Training shirt that I had made for a fundraiser. The other was also a piece of nostalgia that I just couldn’t bring myself to throw out. However, as I write this, I can’t recall what that was, leading me to believe I should have discarded it. I kept a couple of oversized sweatshirts as well: IU championship shirts from the run last year, my IU Rose Bowl sweatshirt. You have to hold on to those. After all, history unfolded before our eyes.

You could have fit nothing else in the back of my car. So many trash bags full of clothes for me to count went in. None of them came back home. They now belong to someone else. I am sure they will have a wonderful home.

Transition is the word of the week. My life isn’t what it was before. I am going to ride my bike for an hour today and then do core work with my trainer, Clayton. I would never have done that in the past. It’s funny, I keep reminding myself I am training for a half Ironman now. It freaks me out, but in a good way.

Photo Gallery: