Racing Triathlons at an Older Age: A Life of Contrast

This summer has been an interesting chapter in my triathlon story. At age 66, and involved in the tri business since age 25, I’ve seen this sport from every possible angle — athlete, business owner, race organizer and supporter.

For those who don’t know me, here’s the short version. I stumbled into triathlon the summer of my 23rd birthday, back in 1983. I was “sort of” a runner — meaning I’d completed a 10K. I’d been on swim team for one year in junior high before quitting so I could ride horses instead of swimming endless laps. In short, I had no deep talent in any of the disciplines. But the variety of outdoor endurance activities hooked me. I loved the sport, and it changed my life.

Within two years, I’d left my desk job, finished my MBA at night, and bought a bike shop with partners. In 1985 — the year before aerobars were invented — I raced the Hawaii Ironman. The bike Fuji loaned me was too big, clipless pedals didn’t exist, I had never swum in an ocean, PowerBars weren’t on the market, and Kona hadn’t yet turned into a full-on commercial spectacle. The race and the innocence of what I was trying to do (with crappy equipment) will make Ironman 1985 forever special, and unforgettable.

From there, life rolled forward. I sold the Illinois bike shops, moved to Long Lake, MN, and started Gear West with my soon-to-be husband, Brian Knutson. By then I’d fallen in love with both cross-country skiing and triathlons. Summers were packed with building a business, races, training, raising kids (not always in that order) and weekends full of triathlon retail (customers grabbing race wheels, wetsuits, and nutrition). Event organizers banded together to create seasons of triathlons that carried us for decades.

The Energy Shifted—and Why I Stayed Connected

Now? The energy has shifted. Participation has slowed for many reasons: changing interests in Gen X and Y athletes, rising costs for both participants and organizers, and, for my fellow baby boomers, the achy bones of aging bodies. Many competitors have moved on. Others have knees that simply can’t handle the pounding anymore.

I may have lasted longer than most in the sport partly because of Gear West. Owning a well-known triathlon store kept me connected. I wanted to stay relevant, to understand how racing was changing, and to keep living the lifestyle built on hard play and hard work.

Training kept me motivated for summer adventures. I made time to swim in local lakes, started group outdoor swims in Lake Minnetonka, and organized weekly group rides where tri-bars were welcome and speed was celebrated. Med-length Olympic triathlons, longer half Ironmans  and the granddaddy’s – full Ironman races like Madison and of course, Kona. all challenged me and motivated me.  

These races and the sport of triathlons, gave me far more than fitness. They made me feel alive, adventurous, and really connected — to the wind and sun, to great friends and experiences, and to the knowledge base that shaped my business. They gave me reasons to train and I loved the results.

So! Forty Years Later — What Changes?

Local races have thinned out as many directors stepped away, and the tri calendar is dominated primarily by Ironman-owned full and half-distance events. Bike companies are shifting toward gravel because tri no longer drive sales like it used to. The cost of serious tri gear is a huge barrier for casual athletes who just want to try the sport without a heavy investment.

I miss many of the local races. It’s gratifying for me to see young athletes roll up on any old bike and jump into a short race for the fun of … giving this new (to them) event a try.  I’ll cheer that on all day. To keep this sport growing we continue to need more tri events with low barriers to entry, which grow the love of movement, and let the reward be in the doing, not winning by fancy equipment only.

The Reality of Training at 66

Anyway, I must admit triathlon training is not like it used to be for me. I need a lot more down time to repair muscles and — run training this summer has been tough. My legs make me question why I still lean into racing.

This summer, I’ve stacked my calendar with four half-Ironmans and one Olympic-distance race. Two of the halves are already done — both on the two hottest days of the summer. Combine the heat with the reality that I haven’t run enough to plod through 13 miles without moving my mind to an alternative universe after a hard bike, and it’s easy to wonder whether the effort is worth it.

The answer — at least for this summer — is yes.

Why? The reasons are mixed, but one rises above all others: I crave a life of contrast.

For me, the push to get up early and swim against the calm, glassy lake makes my slow mornings — coffee in hand, dog on my knee — sweet. The miles I share on the bike with friends, the “race rehearsal” rides where we revisit familiar country roads and chase our average speeds up the hills, all create shared experiences that contrast swapping stories in a coffee shop. Both are good — but together, they make each other richer.

As for running? I get creative now by adding in rollerski workout when my knees need a break. I experiment with shoes. I add a lot of glute work and strength training to keep my stride healthy (enough). Mixing things up freshens the process and inserts a little extra spice to my summer.

Why I Keep Pushing

For many reasons I keep “pushing through” — in extreme heat, with less elastic tendons and in moments of relative discomfort. I’m not sure it’s a trait I’d ever put on a résumé, but… it’s me. It’s in my DNA. That stubbornness has served me well through decades of running a retail business, and “pushing the edges” has always been part of my action plan. For me, the extra effort is always what makes me feel most alive.

Again, it’s about contrast — living a busy, full life and then relaxing into quiet moments, or deliberately stepping outside my comfort zone, but not every single day. For others, it might be hiking the Camino trail in Spain or diving deep into birdwatching along the Mississippi. Basically, by being the best we can be (not living a life of comparison) following passions and really liking the outcome is what a good life (for me) is all about.

My tri goals this summer: pushing to complete any and all events I’ve committed to — especially with the bigger goal of winning my age group at the World Triathlon Nationals in Spain. It’s about seeing what I can still do. The process makes me fitter than I might otherwise be. It nudges me to focus on better nutrition. Also, I am forced to stay organized so I can fit in all the other things I want to do.

That’s the power of contrast. The push and the pause. The challenge and the recovery. Together, they leave me feeling alive, energetic, and super appreciative of the life I get to live.