Saturn Returns: Why We're Doing a Sprint Triathlon at 57 & 59
Feb 04, 2026My friend Claire and I did something this weekend that still makes my heart race a little when I think about it.
We signed up for a sprint triathlon.
750-meter swim. 15-mile bike ride. 5K run.
Six months from now.
I've never done anything like this. I ran a 5K with my nephew about 10 years ago, and once with my dad in the mid-90s around Lake Harriet. That's it. I'm not a runner. I'm not an athlete. I'm a 59-year-old yoga therapist who loves to hike and move her body in gentle, intentional ways.
And yet, here we are.
Claire will be 57 and a half on race day. I'll have just turned 59. We live in different states now, but we've been friends for years—the kind of friendship where you can go months without talking and pick up right where you left off.
This triathlon is our way of staying connected. Of committing to something bigger than ourselves. Of taking care of these bodies we've been given.
Because honestly, I can't just go to the gym. I never have been able to. I need somewhere to go. A purpose. A destination.
I've trekked in the Himalayas. I've hiked trails all over the world. But put me on a treadmill with no mountain to climb, no lake to reach, no view to walk toward? I'm out.
So when Claire suggested this—casually, over coffee, the way all big ideas seem to start—I felt that familiar pull. The one that says, Yes. This is how I'll stay disciplined. This is how I'll take care of myself.
Why Now?
We're both in what astrology calls the Saturn return—the moment, around age 57-59, when Saturn comes back to the same place it was when you were born. It's a recalibration. A reality check. A cosmic tap on the shoulder that says, Are you living the life you're meant to live?
If you've drifted off course, Saturn will throw you back on. If you're on your path, it will deepen your commitment.
For both of us, this triathlon is that deepening.
Claire said it beautifully: "I have the rest of the next half of my life, and I want to figure out how to use that best. And I can only really do that well if I'm taking care of myself."
For me, it's about freedom. I want my body to function optimally so it doesn't impede me. I want to be able to move the way I want to move—whether that's hiking, traveling, dancing or just getting through a day without pain or exhaustion.
I also need this for my mental health.
I've struggled with low moods in this decade of my life more than I expected. Depression. Anxiety. The doldrums that settle in when life feels heavy.
I know—from decades of experience—that a strong body supports a healthy mind. That moving this vehicle intentionally, feeding it well, and giving it challenges keeps the darkness at bay.
So yes, this is about crossing a finish line. But it's also about everything else.
Watch the video HERE.
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The Swim: 750 Meters in Open Water
This is the part that scares me most.
I know how to move my body in water, I did all the swimming patches at the YMCA summer camps and was on the high school swim team for a minute, but I haven't swam laps in years.
And this isn't a pool—it's a lake. Which means weeds. Fish. Other people's elbows and feet.
So we're both starting from scratch in some ways. One swim session a week. Working with someone to look at our stroke. Building up our aerobic capacity through breathwork and intentional movement.
The goal isn't to be fast. The goal is to not panic.
The Bike: 15 Miles
This is the part I feel best about.
I grew up on a bike. It was freedom. It was how I got everywhere. And every time I get on a bike now, I feel that same rush—the wind, the movement, the sense of going somewhere.
But I haven't ridden much in the past five years. My dog Buddha doesn't ride a bike, and we don't want to leave her at home while we go ride for hours. So hiking and kayaking became our activities instead.
Now I'll get to ride again. And honestly? I'm excited.
Claire mentioned something that made me laugh: "Do I want a bigger bike seat? Because comfort matters now."
Yes. Comfort matters. We're not 20 anymore. We don't have to prove anything by suffering through discomfort. We can honor what our bodies need.
The Run: 5K
This is where I'll probably struggle most.
I've never loved running. My dad was a marathon runner—he died while running, actually, training for his 13th marathon. So running carries weight for me.
But I don't have to run the whole 5K. I can walk. I can shuffle along at whatever pace my body can sustain after swimming and biking.
My goal isn't time. My goal is to cross the line.
Claire reminded me that strength training will be key—especially for our knees, our joints, the parts of us that aren't as forgiving as they used to be.
And she's right. This isn't just about cardio. It's about building the infrastructure to support the effort.
What This Really Means
This sprint triathlon is a metaphor, of course.
It's about showing up. About doing the work even when it's hard. About choosing discipline over drift.
It's about friendship. About having someone to train with across state lines, to check in with, to remind you why you're doing this when the motivation wanes.
It's about aging intentionally. About refusing to let this body—this one vehicle we get—become something I ignore or neglect or resent.
And it's about legacy.
Not in some grand, public way. But in the quiet, private way of knowing I honored this life. That I showed up. That I didn't let fear or comfort or the voices that say you're too old, too sensitive, too slow keep me from doing something hard.
We named our team Saturn Returns.
Because this is what Saturn asks of us: Are you living with integrity? Are you honoring the body you're in? Are you using your time well?
This triathlon is our answer.
What Comes Next
Over the next six months, I'll be sharing this journey.
Not just the training—though there will be that—but the reflections. The hard days. The moments when I question what we've gotten ourselves into.
I'll talk about nutrition for older women. About strength training that honors sensitive nervous systems. About staying motivated when your body doesn't cooperate.
And I'll invite you to think about your own Saturn return. Your own challenge. Your own way of saying yes to the life you're living.
Because this isn't just about a triathlon.
It's about everything else.
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