Ironman Wisconsin - TriathlonFull Ironman

Knowing that I'm a faster swimmer, I got in the water at about 6:30 and started slowly making my way out to the start. I wound up floating about 8 feet from the orange corner bouy and about 3 people from the line.

Now, the idea that this is an "open water" swim is misleading. I had maybe five minutes of "open water" on the whole course. I found myself more space inside the bouy line a couple of times, but otherwise, we were bouncing off each other non-stop for an hour. I felt strong, even with the waves on the return part of the loop.

Nothing, unless I somehow develop powers that allow me to control the weather!

T1 is OK, except for having to run up 3 levels of helix, down to the change rooms, back to the end of the parking structure, and then the entire length of the bike transition area to my bike, which was about 10 rows from the mount line.

All the swim course volunteers were great. They're in the water helping you get upright, at the shore helping you step up and over the mat, and the wetsuit peelers are great. I was on my way and got to give my girls and my wife high fives on the way up the helix.

Nothing. T1 went great.

When it sprinkled a little bit in the morning when I was looking over my bike, that was OK. When I got 6-8 miles into the bike and it started to rain but never stopped, I didn't like it too much, but I told myself over and over, "control what you can control". I never got very cold, even though I was only racing in my tri top and shorts. No arm warmers, knee warmers, jackets, socks... just what I race every other race in.

Coming up the hill into Mt. Horeb, my legs are starting to get a little bit crampy (technical term), so I decide to pop a few Endurolytes. Bear in mind it's been raining for the last two hours. They are starting to fall apart, but I figure, they're mostly salt, right? I try to take them a quick wash them down with water, but the moment it hits my tongue, I almost puked. Now, I'm spitting out salt and potassium all over my arm and legs, so anywhere my wetsuit chafed me a little bit is being covered in salt. Now the water bottle becomes a shower that doesn't help much. Ouch. OK - no Endurolytes until special needs, where I have some in a ZIP LOCK BAG. I down more Gatorade and the Accelerade I brought and feel better after a few miles of flatter terrain.

The rest of the bike goes well. The wind was tough, so my pace was lower than I had hoped, but I'm still pretty happy with it. The crowds on the hills and in every town were phenomenal, and I mean everyone. I've never heard that kind of encouragement from people I've never met and will likely never meet. Thanks so much to all the spectators.

Also thanks again to all the volunteers, along with the police at all the intersections. You are all the best, and I tried to thank each of you whenever I could.

Look at the weather forecast the morning of and make sure that anything that needs to stay dry (Endurolytes) is sealed up. Duh.

Other than that, those powers to control the weather would still have been good.

This is where my race got REALLY interesting.

So I ride up the helix, hand my bike to a volunteer, and head inside. I run to the row where I had dropped off my bike-to-run bag, and IT'S NOT THERE. I go into the changing room to see if someone picked up the wrong bag and maybe left it there, but no bag. The volunteers search, I search, and NO BAG! I have no shoes or socks to run in, and the clock is ticking. One of the volunteers apparently went out into the crowd of spectators and other volunteers begging for anyone who has a size 10 running shoe to give them up so I can continue. After about 18 minutes, she comes sprinting back into the transition bag room with a pair of shoes in my size (More on that later). I pull them on (with no socks), thank the volunteer even though I'm still fuming about the issue, and run through the changing room. I got a great cheer from the spectators standing between the transition bag room and the changing room when I came out with a pair of shoes on - they knew what was going on.

I don't know - make sure there is some security at gear bag check in?

Now, I had to run a marathon, in the rain, with shoes I've never worn, without socks, and without any bodyglide (it was in my transition bag, too). The great thing is that I didn't care. I was there to finish the race, and quitting was never an option. My dad and wife scrambled and were able to get my old running shoes into my special needs bag, and my wife even got the race director's blessing to give me assistance! By the end of the second mile, I had pushed the transition fiasco out of my mind and was focused on running the next 24.2 miles. I still felt strong, but I was thinking about my feet and how much they were going to start hurting in a few miles. I saw many family members at the Gilman turnaround and they told me my old shoes were in special needs and to look for Jack (Family friend), but I had decided at that point that if I took these shoes off, I probably wouldn't get another pair on, so I was wearing them to the end.

The hot spots developed into full-blown blisters that hurt around mile 10, but by mile 14, the blisters had popped and, despite being really gross, they felt OK, and I was still running strong. I saw the family again at the MLK turnaround (halfway) and I knew at that moment that nothing was going to keep me from finishing and becoming an Ironman. It was miserably cold along the lakeshore, but I really didn't feel it. I kept my mind off of my feet by smiling at volunteers, talking to other runners, and encouraging those who were walking, shivering, or looking beat. I got to the turnaround at the end of the lakeshore and realized that in under 60 minutes, I was going to make it. I looked at my watch and realized I wasn't going to realize my goal of going sub 12-hours, but at that point, I didn't care anymore. People that finish in 9 hours and those that finish in 16:59:59 are exactly the same - IRONMAN FINISHERS!

The last 6 miles flew by - my feet weren't really hurting; I was tired, but not dying; and I really wasn't feeling the cold anymore. I couldn't wipe the smile off my face, and every mile marker made the smile bigger. I skipped the last two aid stations, and got cheers from the volunteers because I think they knew why - I was almost done. As I got onto the square, I actually upped my pace, because I knew Keeley and Taylor (9 and 5 year old daughters) would be waiting to come on course at the last corner and finish with me. As I rounded the last corner, the volunteers were asking whether I was on the first or second loop, and a huge smile came across my face and I screamed "No way - I'm done!" and went straight through into the finish chute. I saw Keeley and Taylor as they took off in front of me - I had to get them to slow down because I couldn't keep up with them! The last 25 yards are completely a blur. I don't remember Mike Reilly telling me I'm an Ironman, but I'm sure he did. I just remember the unbelievable feeling I had when I realized what I had just done. Despite all the adversity and opportunities to pack it in, I AM AN IRONMAN!!!

Nothing - given the conditions and the shoe thing, I'm happy with a 4:40 IM marathon.

I got my medal, had a couple of cokes, got my finisher picture taken, gave a few hugs to my family, and started to shake uncontrollably from the cold, so I had to head inside to warm up. Once I got dry clothes on, I felt a lot better, so I got my massage, picked up the gear bags that weren't missing, looked around one more time for my bike-to-run bag, and headed out. My dad picked up my bike for me, so we got to the car and headed home. I really wanted to stay and cheer for the late finishers, but I couldn't keep warm enough to stay outside.


Wearing someone else's shoes; wet, windy conditions on the bike; 2+ foot swells on the swim.


This race is awesome. The volunteers are the best I've ever seen, especially with the conditions. I can't do it again next year, but I'm planning on entering again for 2008.

As a side note, last night (Wednesday, September 13) I got to talk to the guy who gave up his shoes and thank him from the bottom of my heart for what he did. He remembered my race number and tracked me down (my number is listed). I told him that he is forever a part of my first Ironman experience. He wasn't looking for the shoes, which is good, because they were so bloody that I threw them away. We're getting together sometime next week - he thinks he might want to give IM a shot. Amazing - I knew I'd learn some things about myself during this experience, but I learned about the generosity of complete strangers at a level I never expected.