“People love a David and Goliath story,” says Irish professional triathlete Fiona Moriarty.
“The competition I’m facing in Hawaii have contracts and support in place to get every bolt on their bike and seam in their race kit dialled in perfectly.
“But when I think about somebody like me, it’s as relatable to an age-grouper as it gets, and it makes me emotional to think that it could be my day if everything goes according to plan.”
Moriarty, whose mother hails from Cork and father from Kerry, works in web content for a tech company in Portland on the US west coast, and has prepared for her Ironman World Championship debut by swimming in a basement pool with no windows.
Readying herself to face the likes of five-time champion Daniela Ryf and four-time runner-up Lucy Charles-Barclay on Saturday in Hawaii, the 35-year-old typifies the underdog spirit.
Flying under the radar
She is also under no illusions about the size of the task ahead. Having only raced Ironman professionally for the first time in 2020 – finishing fifth in Florida – and qualifying through a roll down spot in Ironman Vitoria-Gasteiz in July, Moriarty is comfortable with her status as a relative unknown among the 50-plus women’s pro field, but also acknowledges that she has improved markedly since lining up in Spain.
“I’m a different athlete than I was a few months ago and I’m really excited to see what I can do,” she adds, explaining that the confidence stems from being given an extended sabbatical from her role at software company Salesforce, allowing her to give triathlon sole focus this summer.
“It was really forgiving of my firm and the first time I’ve been able to put a block of training together without having to be on 10 Zoom calls a day,” she says.
“Once I got my Kona slot, I had to go back to my job and say: ‘I appreciate you’ve already given me a chunk of time off, but I’m going to need some more!’
“Having seen the other side of it, the idea of going back to work and then trying to get ready for a world championship race was giving me a panic attack.”
Swapping sequins for spandex
An “injured and burnt out” runner leaving college, Moriarty originally cross-trained on the bike to regain fitness before deciding she preferred cycling to running.
“I then just got it in my brain that I could be good at triathlon.” It’s a world away from her passion growing up, Irish dancing – an activity she stuck with for 20 years.
“Even when I was in college I was still practising, but I don’t think I have the leg lift anymore,” she admits, with the sequins now swapped for spandex, but two young nieces turning to the toe tapping instead.
“I grew up spending all my summers in Ireland and my family is still there. I think of myself more Irish than American. My parents moved to Boston in the ‘70s.
“Dad is one of 11 children and mum’s one of four. My dancing dress is still in a protective case underneath my parents’ bed and I’m not going to wear it any time soon.”
The magic of spectators
The family connections mean that when she came to Youghal to race Ironman Ireland last year she was given a rapturous reception, even if the race itself didn’t go to plan.
“Ironman is a tricky beast and having swallowed too much salt water and thrown up from bike to run, it was a reminder that one thing going wrong can screw up your whole day,” Moriarty adds.
The queasiness was at least offset by her family seeing her race for the first time. “My parents were there, and to see them… I was crying in my visor because it meant so much.
“Youghal is insane, a delightful, magical course with the amount of spectator support, and I was one of the only professional Irish athletes there so had people screaming my name.”
Following two deaths in the swim at this year’s event in August, Ironman is now wrapped in a legal dispute over culpability with the national federation, Triathlon Ireland.
It could also see a premature end to the event, which, despite facing issues including inclement weather since it began in 2019 remains popular with participants and locals.
“I’d love to see that race continue because of the way people come out to support that race,” Moriarty explains.
“It was like the Tour [de France] where people were five or six deep going up a hill which is one of the steepest I’ve ever ridden.
“The crowd moves in and out around you like a living organism, and the feeling you get from that is second to none. It would be a real shame if they discontinued it.”
The master plan
Whether a return is on the cards, first it’s business in Hawaii and Moriarty says that her coach, Chris Bagg from Campfire Endurance Coaching, has been masterful in structuring the plan to make optimal use of the extra time afforded from leave at work.
“There were hard weeks, but I never overdid it and didn’t feel stressed on a daily basis.”
Moriarty says Bagg has also changed her mindset for events. “Previously, I’ve been guilty of chasing races. If I had a crappy race, I would want to race again almost immediately, but it would result in another crappy race because I didn’t have time to train into the next one. Chris is a big advocate of picking thoughtfully and committing the work to each one.”
It paid off in Ironman Australia, where Moriarty claimed her first professional podium with a third place in May.
“I felt I had finally cracked the confidence I needed to go into my next race, which didn’t pan out exactly the way I wanted but I still got the slot,” she says.
A welcome change
While Hawaii is much-anticipated and a comparatively short flight from Oregon compared to the journey for many international triathletes, Moriarty has no issue with a change of location for next year and in the longer term.
“If I had the option I wouldn’t want to race in a hot destination,” she adds. “I’ve done the heat training but if it goes somewhere else it’s fine by me.
“I do think for women’s sport and the women’s professional field, having our own day is critical and I never want to go back.
“As someone who has experienced the chaos and crappiness of top men’s age-groupers coming through the field and interrupting my race, and having been cussed out and practically pushed off the road, I’m not interested in that.
“Whatever I can do to keep women having their own day, even if it’s alternating every year, is fine by me.”
For 2023 though, it retains a certain appeal, especially for an unknown pro trying to cause a surprise.
“I think there’s going to be something really magical about getting off the bike and seeing all those people packing the sidelines and cheering you on. I’m excited and nervous and feel as ready as I possibly could be.”
Top image credit: Josh Sutton
