Florida Half Ironman - Triathlon1/2 Ironman

Hard to believe that I actually had a faster swim than 150 or so other folks. I only made it to the first kayak before giving back breakfast. DNF definitely crossed my mind, but I kept giving the kayak guy the thumbs up while I decorated his float, and told him once I caught my breath that I'd take my time going from Kayak to kayak. After another 5 minutes or so, repeated the procedure, but realized I had plenty of time to breast stroke in, so did.

I need to experiment with dramamine or something on the swim - it was just too close to a big race to play with this year, and it only seems to affect me on OWS. This definitely felt like more of a head/ear than stomach problem. Hopefuly, I'll get it figured out. On the plus side, a straight breast stroke had me keeping up with some of the other weaving crawlers, and I ended the swim feeling better than I expected because I hadn't worked as hard as I had planned to.

I took my time, because I felt like I would appreciate the extra care more than an extra minute. Everything was somehow all tangled up on my bars anyway, so hurrying would have been worse. Drank a lot of clear water, took a single salt pill, and had a pretzel to clear up the taste in my mouth. Saw Oliveview, who was incredible the whole day. On my bike, and so scared I can't even tell y'all.


I'm still at a point where an extra minute here makes sense for me. I still need to keep practicing this, though, because someday I might want to hurry through.

I was really concerned about this cutoff. In the world of Georgia and Alabama half centuries, I'm a 15mph like clockwork kind of guy. That's without the swim, and without the heat (did I mention it was f'ing hot, and there wasn't a spot of shade in 56 f'ing miles? let me mention it again).
Somehow, this bike came together for me. I had stupid troubles (threw a chain, overate and had more digestive issues, kept dropping those cheap water bottles through the bars of my cages trying to rerack them), but somehow they never got me down. Maybe it was because I'm used to being passed by 100s of people all the time on the bike. This time, my last wave and slow swim meant that even though I was ridiculously slow, I didn't have a lot of people coming up behind me. In fact, I could encourage folks as I came up behind them for once. I do wish that officials would officiate the back of the packs as well, as my only real scary moments were two separate pacelines of bandits, a group of three-wide chatting and not leaving room to pass, and one guy who swung left on the course in front a car, causing the car to swerve to the right and brake on the shoulder, and almost sending me into the back of it. I know we're not racing for much in the back, but we deserve some safety officiating too.

I need to not let hunger and thirst be my guide, but limit my intake even when I'm hungry and thirsty. I got myself into stomach distress again, and had to pull over for a minute. Felt much better afterwards, though, and really didn't let it get to me.

Okay, maybe this one was a little slow, but I was just so happy to be back. I was celebrating the fact that I had left myself a chance to finish before the run cutoff without burning myself out on the bike. At the same time, I was trying to cool off my by then burning body. I dumped most of what I had on me or in me, and took extra care to re-bodglide my wet feet. Again, Oliveview was there - she rocks! A smile for my pop's camera, and I was off to the races

Again, I think I'm doing fine with transitions - smart beats fast while I still have some time between me and kona. I did manage to leave without my sunglasses. I picked them up, and they separated into three pieces (frame, lense, removable earpiece). I didn't have the smarts or patience to reattach, so I left them there. I could have used them for the run, so I need to think more about how to solve that problem.

Yes, it was hot. I spent the several first aid stations fully stopped pouring ice into the sausage casing to turn myself into a walking bag of ice. Sponges went everywhere. The three lap race meant that as I passed people in my age group, I was able to wave back at them with a 'don't worry, I'm a lap behind you'... You've never seen such relief on a guy's face. Again, people were helping each other out, and I ran with several people as the day went on, and just kept getting hotter and hotter. I ran and walked, but mostly walked. I didn't mind, because forward motion was victory. At each lap, Oliveview, my folks, and a blur of other people (I'm so, so, sorry, I just wasn't very with it) would cheer, and that would get me running back into the woods. At one point, I computed that I would beat the cutoff with 18 minute miles (my slowest mile of death walk at the Mercedes Marathon), and I did a little celebration right there by myself. A little skipping, a victory banana piece, and I was off, trying to run myself in under eight hours. The last lap was all about staying under 14 minute miles, and each mile marker was a huge victory over slow, over fat, over lazy, over bored, over everything, and towards a finish line I knew I could crawl to at this point, but wanted to run to.
I only had one jockstrap there, and had made some new btfriends, but when I turned the corner to finish my last lap, all I could hear was applause, cowbells, and encouragement. There were somehow still people really cheering me in, and I bolted like a spooked horse. I'm sure my last tenth of a mile was my fastest tenth of my day...
I'm curious about my finish photo, because I realized at some point as I was going under the arch that there was no way I was going to avoid the people there, or make the sharp turn towards the exit. A nice volunteer handed me my medal. Instead of taking it, I grabbed it like a subway handle, and would have gone to the ground if another hadn't grabbed me.
Once my momentum was stopped, I actually felt reasonably good, especially standing in front of the misting fans - next time I'm going to wheel one of those around with me on the run like an IV.

I'm actually proud of my run, even though it's an hour and ten minutes worse than my normal half marathon. I managed to get myself cool and correctly hydrated/electrolyted, and finially settled my stomach. I got faster as the day went on, and managed to pass a bunch of people.

The late wave and slow race left me with not a lot - the massage tent was closed (while the race was still going on), almost all of the food was gone (and they had stopped putting more out - while the race was still going on), they didn't even have a t-shirt my size (grrr, can't anyone count?). None of it really mattered, because what I really wanted to do was to call and leave a message for my beautiful wife. It turns out that she was up, and had been up all day despite back to back 12+ hr night shifts, watching ironmanlive and rooting for me all day. Who says it's not possible to jockstrap from a distance. We had a nice talk while I lay down in the grass of the transition. Oliveview, my guardian angel for the day, packed up all of my gear, which I had somehow spread over most of Florida. Lots of walking, fluids, and tylenol, and a chicken salad late in the day. Dinner plans faded into sleep.


I'm just getting started, and there are no limits there that can't be beaten down with time. I'm happy with this performance, warts and all. I ran my own race, and I'm proud of myself.


So good and so bad - Great sherriff and volunteer support. The local sherriff even had a speed trap set up on Marsh Rd. on the bike course set up Friday afternoon (no, he didn't get me, I stopped to look at that hill, and he walked across the street to talk to me). Great aid station support, which I really think helped to keep injuries to a minimum (anyone know that everyone made it okay?).
Then, such lousy stuff - lots of course changes, almost no communication with the athletes, inconsistent information in EVERY communication that did go out. No officiating for the late racers (besides the above, I passed a guy who ran the entire run in big over-ear silver headphones - not a mark on his number, let alone the three strikes he should have had in the first hundred yards). And, dang it, if the cutoff is 4:00 for official finishers, then when I finish before 3:30, you better have the same food, massage, and finisher's shwag you had for everyone who finished at noon or before. My money is just as green, my race is just as important to me, and it's elitist bs to assume that I didn't work hard enough to earn a massage, a frozen orange juice, or a medium t-shirt. There, I feel better.