Home

10%

Charlotte Paul

Whilst I Still Have Beats in my Heart

By InnerVoice

March 10^th, 2017

Kinder to myself

After finishing with professional triathlon, I thought I had unfinished business to finally break the 3-hour mark in a marathon. I came close, going 3.03 in Ironman Western Australia in 2007. After 23 Ironman’s, I’d never raced a straight marathon without the warm up! Plus, running a marathon was my original goal before I started Ironman. So, 4 years into motherhood I trained and raced the Vancouver marathon.

It was disastrous.

I didn’t give my former self the respect she deserved and thought I could go from zero to hero on a 12-week build. I was on the start line already slightly broken.

Post-race the trails felt kinder on my muscles and I decided that going sub-3 wasn’t going to change things. I decided to be kinder on myself. What I love about trail racing is that every course is different, times are irrelevant - you just chase the best you have on the day. I now run to time, with a simple stop-watch, over an unknown distance. There is no need to obsess over paces and times. It’s time to smell the roses along the way. I stop for photos on my runs - something I would never ever have done as a triathlete! It’s really, really nice. I am still super competitive on race day, but I trust in the process and enjoy it more for what it is each day. And I realise that if I race my heart out, the outcome is less important. I’m racing for that feeling, for me.

women can do cool things too

I’m stepping up to 50km trail runs this season, and that’s quite scary for me. 50km on the trails is a long time of just running. Perhaps I’ll step up to the real ultra stuff, I’m not sure I'm 100% ready to jump on that crazy train! I’m really not sure how I’d react to missing sleep and running through the night. I do like the idea of being out there through the sun setting and rising again...but the insanity of that is exactly what I thought about Ironman, and so as I write this I know its in my future.

I see inspiration everywhere. It's all around us if we're open to receiving. People don't have to be sporting heroes to be inspiring. I get inspired when I look out my window and see someone running or riding past in the pouring rain, smiling, off towards the trails. There's a large community of female trail runners here and they're adventurous, courageous and lift each other up to push personal boundaries. That's daily real inspiration.

Triathlon was a very selfish sport for me as a professional. There was a huge time commitment. With trail running, I’m in a different time in my life, and my number one purpose is to be Mack’s mum. That gets me out of bed in the morning. But, as a part of that, I want to set a good example for him. I want to show him that women can do cool things too.

long distance was 15 minutes

When I started in triathlon I had no idea that I’d be better over the longer distances. I also had no idea that I could become world-class at something. My parents weren't athletes; they were just great spectators and supporters. I didn't come from a family of high achievers. Becoming a professional athlete was way beyond my wildest dreams and possibilities. Looking back at how far I'd come was how I was able to step away and be content with what I achieved. It was so much more than I ever thought possible.

I couldn’t really comprehend the distance before my first Ironman, let alone going as fast as I could for that amount of time. I had no idea what to expect, or how I was going to feel. The unknown was exciting and scary at the same time.

I was never a sprinter at school, but long-distance back then was 15 minutes. Before Kristian (my husband) and I ever started triathlon we watched the triathlon at the Sydney Olympics. I was best friends with the sister of Tim Don (who was on the British team) at the time. We thought 2 hours of racing was a really long time. In my first Ironman race, I had to choke back tears coming off the bike - I couldn’t believe I’d done it. The bike portion took me 6 hours on that day, and I just couldn’t believe I had survived it. It was an emotional experience. The following year it happened again, but this time it was “I can’t believe I did it in 5 and a half hours!”

“Straight away I knew this was going to be 'my thing'. And lucky for our relationship Kristian and I both felt the same way.”

i wanted to win more

The mental aspect of triathlon was something I had to work really hard on. Not because I was afraid of losing but afraid of winning. The unbelievable change it would have on my life if I actually won! I think when you have an image of yourself it’s really hard to break, and I didn’t have a winning self-portrait. I was someone who always “could do better”. The thought of winning excited me but also terrified me - and how would I react to taking the lead in the race? When I realised my biggest opponent was my own head, it changed everything.

Having the run as my strongest leg, I had never been in the lead until the day I finally won. I found if I focused on the present and controlling the controllable, the rest would fall into place. My mind stayed focused on the nitty gritty of eating, drinking and making every stroke, pedal or step the best it could be. Of course, things can go pear shaped. In a 9 or 10 hour race, it’s never going to be roses the whole way. There are always going to be ups and downs, but even the ups are tough. To keep pushing for that long is tough. So when things get tough, and you know they will, you need to be ready with the answers. You have to stay practical. Overheating? What can I do? How long till I next get aid?

I was always ready with the positive mantras. One that sticks in my memory, “Mister wind, I know you are strong and I respect you, but I am strong too and I am going to cut through you like a knife.” It made me smile and put me back into a feeling of control. And if you fill your head with positives there’s less room for negatives. On the run when I overtook someone I would visualise kicking out their power cord and taking that energy for myself!

The year I won Ironman China the heat was absolutely brutal - perhaps the hottest Ironman race in the history of the sport? It was carnage out there. I’ve never seen so many athletes walking and sitting in gutters. A friend ended up flat on her back on an aid station table - we laugh about it now! I went there wanting to win that race. I was in my best shape ever. So I started the run in third place. I started off conservatively, as usual, but when I actually looked at my watch through the first kilometre I was shocked at just how slow I was going. Just actually running was an effort, never mind how fast. That was a day when I should have gone sub 3. But in those conditions, I ran 3:30-something and had the fastest run split of both men and women! So, ironically, my slowest but best ever run!

I won that race by constantly moving forward as best I could. As soon as the sun went behind a cloud my pace picked up - even just for that moment. I wanted to walk but I wanted to win more.

“My dad taught me to backflip into the pool as a kid, and that’s the most technical thing I’ve ever done!”

i am so grateful that i can

The biggest tragedy in my life is hard to answer because it’s ongoing. My family are watching my dad’s slow deterioration from Parkinson’s disease. It’s tragic because it has consumed him for 15 years or more. He’s of the generation that worked hard every day for their retirement. But then he never had one to enjoy. It’s been harrowing to watch as my parents struggled on, him becoming so helpless. It’s definitely strengthened my relationship with my mum.

My family is typically British in that I never heard the words “I love you” growing up. Not, at least, until my dad had his first stroke in my early 20s. When I was a triathlete I thought I was pretty bulletproof, that fitness equalled health. I remember my dad telling me that Parkinson’s wasn’t hereditary and that I needn't be worried. Rather arrogantly I wasn’t worried at all - I wasn’t going to get it! But now, due to part-motherhood, part-age and part wisdom I know we're none of us invincible. So in my last trail race, after an emotionally exhausting week by my dad’s hospital bed, I was fueled by the mantra, “whilst I still have beats in my heart”, and “because I can and I love it”. I am so grateful that I can.

“I actually enjoy that feeling of total and utter exhaustion you only get when you’ve given everything.”

imposter syndrome

I always remember a conversation I had early on in triathlon. A girl commented to me the group we were riding with were all A type, highly successful people. I think I kept quiet and probably went along with what she said. But that wasn’t me at all. I remember looking around me that day, and thinking ‘holy crap you’re right.’ All these amateur triathletes had really good jobs, but not me. I am definitely not A-type. I never really fit that triathlete mould. But to my advantage I could follow a plan, no questions asked.

I don’t think I ever felt like a true professional triathlete either. Someone put a name to it recently for me: imposter syndrome. I came to my pro career very late, without having come through the junior ranks and short-course triathlon. I didn’t have the strongest swim/bike combo; I was relying on my run and my ability to endure. I never truly felt like a true professional athlete. So, perhaps that was why I wanted to earn the respect of my peers.

i kept my promise

In triathlon, there is always something that could be improved upon. Always.

Perfect builds combined with perfect race days are nearly impossible to engineer, which leads to countless what ifs. My biggest frustrations in racing always led the way for my biggest breakthroughs. I was addicted. I could not imagine life without the routine of training - it was something I did as routinely as brushing my teeth. Plus, there were the time and place goals. To run under 3 hours in an Ironman, and to be in the top 10 in Kona (I was 11th in 2008).

But I decided to make peace with those goals. Because they were not my goals when I started in triathlon, that’s for sure! Goals get raised and raised, and I thought I had to return to triathlon after having my son to tick them off until I realised it would not change a thing. Perhaps I felt like I had something to prove. I definitely wanted my career to be considered a success. I wanted the respect from my peers. And I wanted to earn money after years of working my way up. Those were definitely big drivers.

The decision to become a professional triathlete was definitely not a financial one. Even though I was in my early 30s, I was young. We were driven by our love of the sport. It was definitely not a sensible decision. It was a decision to follow my dreams. Even though this possibility was never in my wildest dreams! Once it became a possibility I had to chase it. Now as a trail runner in my 40s my drivers are entirely different. I want to keep moving. I want to be able to grab opportunities. I want to be able to go on adventures with my family. I want to always be fit. And I want to combine that with good health. I want my son to be proud of his mum. It maybe sounds silly, but it brings a tear to my eye thinking about it. I skied my first double black diamond this year because he asked, and I promised I would. I kept my promise to him and that’s important to me.

he believed in me

Triathlon definitely distanced us or put a divide between us and family and friends. Kristian and I were committed triathletes, so we didn’t want to stay out late or get drunk if it was going to impact our training. Training came first even when I was an amateur.

They didn’t understand it at first. Eventually, they did. But it absolutely strengthened my relationship with my husband, who eventually became my coach. We did most of our training together and had a healthy battle for the title of fastest in the house. Kristian’s Ironman PR is less than 2 minutes faster than mine, but for years I held the record. I know it hurt his ego, but he’s always been my biggest fan. He believed in me long before I did. He pushed me to keep raising the bar my entire career. My success was a success for both of us. We were so lucky to be able to share so many experiences together. My first win was also his breakthrough race, going sub-9 for the first time, and getting his first ticket to Kona after 5 years of trying.

That was pretty special. Now we are both in trail running and I am so glad we’re in it together. That camaraderie has been missing these last 5 years...

Footnotes

Words by Charlotte Paul, Photos by Matt Clark, Brian McCurdy, Adam Young, Andrew Sawatske and Guy Crawford, Editor Cody Royle, Published by NTSQ Sports

Follow Charlotte

FootNotes

Words by Charlotte Paul, Photos by Matt Clark, Brian McCurdy, Adam Young, Andrew Sawatske and Guy Crawford, Editor Cody Royle, Published by NTSQ Sports

Colin O'Brady

Charlotte Paul

Whilst I Still Have Beats in my Heart

FootNotes

No Human is Limited

I'm Here To Win

The Humble Son

My Incredible Journey

The Most Interesting Man In The World

Season 3