Kelsey Pfendler, Rachel Entrekin, two gemini babies, and a very Happy PR🩵

Hi Friends,

We are back! With lots to catch up on!

Before I get into all of my personal milestones and updates from the past few months, I want to briefly talk about two women who are rightfully dominating the conversation in endurance sports right now: Kelsey Pfendler and Rachel Entrekin.

Kelsey Pfendler is currently attempting to become the youngest, fastest, and first American woman to row solo and unsupported from California to Hawaii. Only two women have ever completed this crossing. As I write this, she is over a month into a 2,400-mile journey alone in the Pacific Ocean and has captured the attention of the endurance community around the world.

(read more about Kelsey/track her journey on her website!)

As I’m sure many of you are well aware, just last month, Rachel Entrekin made history at the Cocodona 250 ultramarathon. She didn't just win this race outright. She changed the conversation around women's endurance sports forever. Men are generally stronger and faster than women from a physiological standpoint. That's simply a fact. But athletes like Rachel and Kelsey are helping us better understand the areas where women may have unique advantages, including fatigue resistance, consistency, emotional resilience, and perseverance.

Rachel's victory wasn't the first time a woman has won an ultra outright, and it won’t be the last, but it may have been one of the most significant examples we've ever seen. She shattered the course record and finished hours ahead of her competition.

(A great listen on Rachel's journey to this incredible feat.)

When you think about it, women's fatigue resistance makes a lot of sense. For generations, women have carried and cared for their children and family through exhaustion, uncertainty, and very little sleep. We are quite literally built for it. Now that women have greater access to opportunities in sport and more freedom to dedicate time and energy to pursuits beyond traditional expectations, we're beginning to see what that potential can produce in endurance sports.

I truly believe this is only the beginning. We are watching a generation of women redefine what is possible in endurance sports, and I feel incredibly lucky to witness it, and even luckier to be a small part of that movement myself.

Which brings me to Happy Valley this past weekend, a race where women made up less than 23% of the field. However, I have the feeling that these percentages in the next few years are only going to continue to climb as more and more women inspire one another to give this sport a try. There has already been a huge spike in triathlon interest and participation from women in just the past 12 months.

These past few weeks, and in this particular order, I turned 29, got my first real bike, became an aunt, and completed my second IRONMAN 70.3. Quite the month for me if I do say so myself.

This race solidified my love for triathlon and reminded me that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be right now. After my ~unique~ experience at my first 70.3 last summer, part of me wondered if this sport was for me, if I was forcing an agenda or image or trying to be someone I wasn’t. But on Sunday, I proved myself wrong (or right..) and PR'd by 30 minutes, with a smile on my face, on one of the toughest 70.3 courses in North America. 

The day before the race, I became an aunt earlier than expected and my mom had to head home to meet her new grandson. After everything we've been through together in this sport, I wasn't sure how I was going to race without her there.

That night and the morning of the race, I wasn't feeling great. My stomach was upset and I was pretty lightheaded, but I assumed it was just nerves. We got the most incredible sunrise race morning, which I took as a sign to trust the day ahead.

i meannn. how can you not have a great race starting the day with this.

But, during the swim I couldn't find my rhythm, couldn't push my pace, and when I stood up to run the 20 feet in transition, I could barely manage to see straight. At one point, an official looked at me and said, "breathe!" 

I got on the bike feeling anxious and unsure if I would even finish the race. The swim is usually my strongest discipline, so if that had gone poorly, how was I supposed to survive nearly 4,000 feet of climbing on the bike? And without my mom?

But the best part about triathlon is that you actually get three chances to start over if you're having a bad day. 

So, I put the swim out of my mind and decided to get on the bike anyway, trusting the process instead of my doubt. Mile by mile, I started to pull things together, on one of the toughest bike courses in North America. The heart and grit I witnessed on those climbs were magnetic. I had the absolute best interactions with the other women on the course when we passed one another, each of us giving words of encouragement and inspiring one another to keep going. I found myself time and time again out on that course and it reminded me why I do this. Everyone around me was fighting the same battle, and there was something incredibly motivating about sharing in that  - it’s the same reason I enjoy 5am swim team.

By the time I reached T2, I realized I had just PR'd my bike split by ten minutes on that course. 

So I started running, once again focused on the process instead of the outcome and taking it very easy in the beginning, still a bit traumatized from my 20 second run off the swim. Early into the run I knew something special was happening. I was flying effortlessly through the mile markers. My heart rate was steady, my fuel was kicking in, and my legs were telling a story - one that now included 2 marathons, 2 70.3 ironmans, and more than 2 years of hard earned experience. 

I crossed the finish line at 5:46:56. 

I couldn’t believe it when I looked down at my watch. A 30 minute overall PR with a PR in every single discipline, including a run split that was only 30 seconds slower than my standalone half marathon PR. I blew every single one of my goals out of the water. My first sub-6. My first race without my mom. My second IRONMAN 70.3. And my first day as an aunt. So much life in one weekend. 

If you had asked me ten years ago what my life would look like at 29, I definitely would not have pictured this. I would have thought I would be nearly a decade into a traditional career, living alone in some big girl apartment, with a clear plan for the future.

But three years ago, I had the life I thought I wanted, and I wasn't happy. I was constantly searching for something that meant more to me. And this does. I care deeply about what I'm building and currently doing here at home. I don't think there is much that could have convinced me to leave the stability of a 9-5 otherwise. And while I don't know exactly where this will lead, and turning 29 at home with my mom and without a traditional job is far from what I had pictured this chapter of my life to look like, I know I'm moving in the right direction because of how it makes me feel.

My therapist reminded me recently of how anxious I was about turning 25, 26, 27, and then 28. For years, my post grad birthdays felt like deadlines. I felt pressure to have everything figured out and follow some prescribed timeline for adulthood.

But, when she asked me how I felt about turning 29 this year, instead of feeling knots in my stomach like the years prior, I said, "I think it'll be nice" and actually meant it. 

Do I feel old enough to be 29? Absolutely not. But am I terrified of my 30s? Not really. I'm more intrigued. My mom once told me that her 40s were her favorite decade. Life actually does not end at 25, even though social media sometimes makes it feel that way - I am convinced mine is just beginning. 

28 was a great year, and I cannot wait to see all that 29 has in store for me while I continue to build this community alongside all of you and help more women discover what they are capable of through endurance sports. 

More updates soon! 

Xoxo
Caleigh❤️‍🔥