I’d like to think that by sharing my story it can help just one woman (hopefully more), and let them know they are not alone; that they can get through whatever it is they are going through. And that when they are ready, on the road, on the bike, in the water – it’ll always be there for them to start anew. Just because you stopped, doesn’t mean you can’t start again. Remember that. Always. 

I used to be a competitive swimmer when I was younger, so I suppose endurance events have always appealed to me. Once swimming ended, I was looking for something to fill the gaps of those long training sessions. And that’s when I fell in love with running. I swam because I had to, I was part of a team. But I ran because I loved it. It was my passion.

Over the years, I met and married my husband, moved abroad and then it was time to start a family. Only, it wasn’t as easy as I thought it was supposed to be. We suffered 2 back-to-back miscarriages and my confidence and spirit was shattered. In 2013, we were able to have a healthy pregnancy and welcomed our baby girl later that year. She is our miracle “rainbow baby.” But after my daughter, we then suffered two more consecutive miscarriages. I am now in a terrible club of 1% of women that suffer from recurrent miscarriages. 

Running has always been a way for me to challenge my body to do things I never thought it could do before, like running a marathon in the gruelling heat, humidity and hills of South East Asia! But, it’s also been a coping mechanism for me to handle all this grief and stress.

When you’re running, nothing else matters. And then I got injured. Badly. Stress fractured feet, torn ligaments, strained hip flexors – the injuries were numerous and severe enough to keep me off running for nearly a year. I lost a bit of me when I couldn’t run. Sure I could swim, lift upper body, do some yoga – but I didn’t want to do those things. I wanted to run and I couldn’t. 

And then tragedy struck again. My husband and I got pregnant, and this time, surprisingly, everything was going quite well. Everyone involved started to relax a bit. Because that’s the thing with miscarriages. It doesn’t just take away your baby, it takes away any joy and excitement you are supposed to feel in pregnancy and instead leaves you with massive anxiety and worry over every little thing.

At what was supposed to be our 12-week, “congratulations you’re out of the first trimester” appointment, our OB said, “I’m sorry, there’s no heart beat.” It was by far the most tragic of our miscarriages because we believed that this one would be different. I had to have surgery a few days later. My body, my heart and my spirit were broken. Shattered in a million pieces. 

I couldn’t see through the dark clouds of despair this time to pull myself up, and I spiralled. I withdrew from everything I once loved and I became a shell of my former self. I had my daughter and my husband I had to be present for, and I was there for them, but I was not there for myself. I was my last priority, and it showed. I gained a lot of weight and became unhealthy and unhappy.

But, once I got the “all-clear” from my doctors to start working out again, my legs, my feet and my body were healed – it was time to start healing my heart and spirit. With the support of my amazing husband, I started running again. Walking at first. Then running. Slowly. One kilometre, then a mile, then two, then walk/running longer distances. I thought it was time to start fresh, to do something I had never done before. TRIATHLONS!!!!

I could swim, I could run (slowly), I just needed to learn how to ride! So, I got a road bike, taught myself how to ride, how to change gears and how to ride clipped-in. Over the next 16 weeks, I went from literally rock bottom zero to 70.3, and completed my first half Ironman in Bintan, Indonesia. It wasn’t pretty, it was pretty ugly actually as I finished the course barely within the cut-off time at just over 8 hours. I had a lot of work to do, but I was back!!!! I was starting to feel like myself again. I was happy. 

Then, came my next 70.3 in Phuket. I trained so hard for this race. It was a tougher course than Bintan, so I trained harder. But, the night before the race, I got food-poisoning. In the middle of the vomiting and a million trips to the loo, I thought to myself, I could give up right now and go home. Or I can try and I can give it my best effort. I can let my circumstances define me, or I can try to carry on in spite of them.

So that’s what I did. I tried. Until I couldn’t go anymore on my poor dehydrated body and got pulled off the course around 70km of the bike for missing one of the intermediary timing cutoffs. It was a devastating blow, because I had never DNF’d a race before. I am including this in my story, because I think it’s important to understand that we will ALL suffer setbacks, we will all suffer tragedies. But it is up to us, only us, no matter how hard it is, to pull yourself back up, and try, try again! You can never attain something great if you’re too afraid to fail. And failure is a part of the process. 

Through the gains, through the setbacks, through the wins, the losses, the injuries, the races, I’m still training. I’ve gotten stronger, much stronger through all of this. Not just physically but mentally and emotionally as well. I am now training for my first full Ironman in November!! Ironman Malaysia.

My triathlon journey has been crazy, insane, actually.  There are some days I even question why I ever thought I could finish a 140.6 mile race. But then there are some days when I don’t think; I KNOW, I KNOW I can finish that race. Some people ask why i spend so much time training, taking time away from my family. Am I being selfish? No WAY. I am taking care of myself, so I can be a better wife, a better mother, a better friend. I am brave, relentless and determined – not selfish. Also I don’t think I would have been able to be on this journey without the support of my family, friends and awesome running/tri community. It’s really helpful to have a strong network of people around you to help!! 

I shared my story not for people to feel sorry for me and what we’ve been through, but to help inspire others. No matter where you are, what your circumstances, you can always start over, start again. It’s incredibly difficult to pick up the pieces, I know. But it’s the best thing you can ever do to move forward. However slowly, however little bit at first… just keep moving forward. You got this!