Injury Into An Opportunity

Chile, March 2020: I successfully completed a 30K race, raised my arms on the podium, and set my sights on qualifying for the UTMB Mont Blanc in another competition scheduled for July in Spain. I was full of dreams and excitement for what would be my first trip abroad to compete. However, COVID-19 hit, and strict lockdown measures were imposed in Chile, among the toughest in the world. Borders closed, flights were canceled, and my trip to Spain was off. Then began four months of confinement.

For someone like me, who engages in daily sports and runs in the mountains every week, this situation pushed my comfort zone to the limit. I invested in a home gym to keep running, indoor cycling, and to keep my two children active. My goal was to stay prepared for a return to the mountains. When the restrictions eased and we were allowed outside again, I started running. It was wonderful, but my body wasn’t ready, and I suffered a stress fracture in my knee.

The doctor prescribed three months of rest, which was a hard blow. What could I do? I turned to swimming and cycling. Without hesitation, I joined a triathlon team and, to boost my motivation, signed up for a 70.3 in Pucón, the southernmost Ironman in the world.

I didn’t know how to swim and had only done indoor cycling, and I still couldn’t run. COVID-19 continued to dominate our lives with intermittent lockdowns. Preparing for a triathlon under these conditions was crazy, but that goal kept me focused on something positive and healthy.

I made new friends on the team. I swam in the only authorized pool in the city, always wearing a mask, and without access to bathrooms or changing rooms, even in the middle of winter. But I was happy. I was allowed to cycle only two hours a day. On my first outing, I fell, lost consciousness, and ended up in the emergency room. I was ordered to avoid cycling for a month. Ironman was five months away, and progress was slow, but I trained very hard to earn that medal.

I had no time to lose. Due to the COVID situation, we had no races, and I felt worried about that. My coach pushed me to do any competition, and my first triathlon event was a Sprint distance: 750 meters of swimming in Rapel Lake, 20K on the bike, and a 5K run. I felt very nervous, but it was an amazing debut because I earned my finisher medal and second place in my age group! This competition was nice because females and males competed on different days. Triathlon is a very tough sport, dominated by men, with female participation usually only 20% or 30%. The water is especially hard; you can take a lot of hits, but in this case, it was a great experience. My first step to Ironman 70.3 was successfully completed.

My second race was a 50.1, Olympic distance with a 1.6K swim, 64K bike, and 16K run, a bigger challenge and closer to 70.3. In another city, we drove six hours. I presented symptoms of a cold and had horrible dysphonia. I honestly thought that by Sunday it would be under control, but it was not. Swimming started in darkness; the water looked black. OMG, I did not see the right direction. I received a couple of hits and took another direction, finishing the first part with the sunrise.

Transition went without problems, and we went on with the bike. For me, the most difficult part. 100 meters into the start, I saw a water bottle I didn’t recognize. It wasn’t my bike! I wanted to kill myself, the most ridiculous situation. The same model, the same color. I came back and made the change with all eyes on me. I will never forget this moment.

It was hard to continue. The bike was a snot festival; I had to clean my nose all the time, making it difficult to eat, breathe, and drink. The last part was better. I quickly picked up the pace and enjoyed it. I know it’s beautiful, a sunny day. I crossed the line exhausted, without a voice, but happy to put my medal on my neck. Another mission was complete. Now the last event, 70.3.

It was a cold morning. The first rays of light showed me the lake. Pucón is a beautiful town, south of Chile. I stood on that beach, surrounded by a sea of people in dark wetsuits, most of them men (1467 males, 268 females). You can feel intimidated. But I had conviction; the work was done, and now it was the moment to prove it.

I jumped into the water, full of fear but also hope. I loved swimming, and the minutes flew by. The bike ride took 3:30 hours. The road with the volcano, forest, and local people was stunning. The first 45K was windy and uphill all the time. The problem for me was that I always have difficulty eating and drinking on the bike, and when I arrived, I felt exhausted and dehydrated to run. 21K, with a 7-kilometer hill, three times. It could be my best part because I am a trail runner! But it was not. The street was full of people, friends, mates, neighbors, and my family—my mother and my kids. They were my motivation to finish. Seven hours of effort, and I raised my arms and wore that medal, undoubtedly the one that most demanded.

I learned a lot from that experience. Today, I run, swim, and cycle every week. I do ultra-distance events: 100K in the Andes Mountains, 80K in Argentina, 55K in Spain, and last year, I ran OCC, 55K, in the UTMB Mont Blanc final. As I always say, life is full of surprises. You choose how to live it.