I completed a long course triathlon in early June, and made the mistake of not using sunscreen.  The parts of my skin which had already burned earlier in the year were fine.  The parts of my skin which hadn’t seen sun, namely my shoulders and ankles, were not fine.  This is the first time I’ve burned so badly I got blisters.  Perhaps my mistake wasn’t sunscreen, but rather the lack of preparing my skin for spending that much time out in the sun uncovered.

You might ask, how does a person with a wonky autonomic nervous system complete a long-course triathlon?  That’s a good question.  It’s fairly straightforward.  Swimming isn’t a problem.  The most dangerous part is standing up out of the water without passing out.  The trick there is a bit of hyperventilation while continuing to run to keep the blood flowing to the brain as best as possible.  The second most dangerous part is right after the finish line, where I got the 20 minute shakes again.  For shorter distances, not passing out when they’re trying to take the timing chip off my ankle is always a challenge.  When I train, I always cool down with a walk.  Abruptly stopping a hard workout is a recipe for disaster, and that includes sprint pieces in the pool, and stopping at traffic lights on the bike.

I have a very hard time eating while exercising, because my stomach just doesn’t digest much under hyperadrenal conditions.  I managed 200 calories during the 56 mile bike part, and that was good for me.  In theory, I’m supposed to consume a lot more, but that’s just not for me.  I probably got 100 calories on the run.  I normally don’t train eating while running, because I just can’t.  Maybe that trains me to burn fat instead?  I suppose that’s possible.

Thermoregulation is a challenge for me.  Too cold, and my hands turn Raynaud’s white.  Too hot while racing, and I don’t sweat.  I swell up instead.  This has made running in the summer a lot more difficult for me.  Fortunately, this was an early season triathlon, so it didn’t get unbearably hot.  They offered ice, and I used it, stuffing it in my bra and hat.  I also dumped water on myself from time to time.

Part of me wonders how I’d do on a very low dose beta-blocker during a long-course race.  Would it make sweating and eating possible?  On the other hand, maybe I’d have to actually pee during the race.  That’s the up-side of the dysautonomia umbrella: never needing to pee during a long race.  It’s on the anti-doping list, though, so I don’t.

There are times when I look at this with disbelief.  I can’t possibly have autonomic nervous system problems!  I completed a Half-Ironman, and was the second female across the finish line!  How can anybody believe me?  Then I go out to lunch with my friends, and almost pass out after the meal, and my friends are so used to it, they don’t think anything of it.  Or I stand around in a kitchen with my friends and get handed a glass of water without being asked if I want any, because I’m leaning against the countertop again, probably with a paler face.  I don’t know anybody else who is at risk of fainting in the race packet pickup line, and not the race itself!