Kyra Wiens is a professional triathlete, yoga teacher, and holds AN MPA FROM UNC - Chapel Hill.

She has finished in the top 10 of all her pro races over the last year, in addition to 12th at the 70.3 North american Championships and 23rd at the 70.3 world championships in South Africa.

I’m an athlete, a {triathlete}.

I’m an athlete, a {triathlete}.


I’m an athlete, a {triathlete}.

It’s not just the hours training and recovering and transporting; it’s finding slack in everything else. Sometimes getting it wrong. It’s the rhythm of my year, the winter doldrums to the summers of explosive radiance. There’s a rhythm, too, to passing over the same routes, the same farms, the same potholes, doing it slowly. The trees change from Sunday to Sunday, I pass over the same memories in the same places. 

Being a woman in this sport is not the same as being a man: to be away from the home is not given, it’s defended; a man is confident, a woman is bragging; a man is powerful, her shoulders are ungainly. But I’m not looking back. I’m imagining the woman I will become, and I ascend ascend, always ascending. 

I’m taller every day, stronger every day, these quads, this core, I am floating I am above I am locked into numbers and my breath and the rush of wind or the thought of the next aid station or is this moment, this step, the one I want, the race I want? 

This is my place where I come alive, where the voices that say you’re not worthy, or pretty enough, or you’ll fail—they’re silent. 

We ride, and HELEN is her name. “Small wonder that Trojans and Achaeans should endure so much and so long, for the sake of a woman so marvellously and divinely lovely.” I fight everyday, my heart is open, my arms are bare, I feel the wind, I hear everything, I am connected to the sacred, to the divine, through the vibration of an Om, through the gift of sunlight. 

I am my own hero. I am prostrate before the thousands who shaped this moment: my mechanic, my mother, my Taryn Taryn Taryn, my anyone who ever believed in someone and gave something away, the people at my grocery store. 

There’s courage to be found there, here, within. There’s a strength that used to be a secret. I give myself, I find a higher self, I am ascending I am ready I am worthy I am strong and getting stronger, I am proud to be an athlete, you can see it in my stance, in the set of my jaw. 

Dream, shine, explode with energy. Give to yourself, give to others, what comes back will reverberate and magnify and light you up and fill your heart and then you’ll find you have more to give. The iambs of our heart. Mine beats 180 times a minute on race day, or more, each one monitored and recorded for my coach. It’s a kind of intimacy, these metrics; a kind of objectification, of a fierce kind of magic.

 

(Photo: Mike Olliver)

I’m a working {professional}.

I’m a working {professional}.