I'm not a good swimmer. I feared this in the days leading up to the race. Luckily, it wasn't nearly as hard as I thought. Well, the swimming part that is. However, the cramp in my leg was almost a complete disaster. Anyway, the swim gun went off and I did not have my watch set. I went to my back to try to get it started (new watch issues) and people were swimming over me so I had to scrap the watch. No big deal... I began swimming and it was crazy... I couldn't find open water and I kept bouncing off and swimming over other athletes... My goggles got completely knocked off my head at one point and miraculously they fell right into my hand as I was swimming. Getting them back on was not easy and I ended up getting bashed and popped a few times until finally I got them back on. I continue swimming and found a patch of clear water… Nice. Finally I can think about my stroke and I let my thoughts wander and I start feeling confident. I keep telling myself that I belong here and that I can do this! Some girl is now swimming along side of me… she pops me in the head… another stroke another pop in the head… another stroke another pop in the head! I pull away from her hard and jam my thumb on another swimmer. OUCH. Suddenly I see the turn-around buoy. I was stoked. I felt great, I was half way finished and it occurred to me that I will finish this swim easily. Shortly after the turn buoy, it happened. My left calf completely froze… I’m not sure why; it could have been the icy water or it might have been my lack of swim training. It didn’t matter because I couldn’t swim. I rolled to my back and tried to float the pain away. No luck. I was about ready to cry. I was scared and considered finding the rescue boat. SHIT! I just could not believe this. I was determined to not go down like this. I tried to swim again but could not kick. I just swam with arms. This was hard. I tried to massage my calf, but it didn’t help. With my right leg I kicked my calf and that felt good. I began swimming and kicking my calf’s as hard as I could. It seemed to help so that is what I did as I swam on. Before long I was at the last buoy and turned towards the stairs that are the finish. As I stepped onto the stairs, I knew that I was in trouble and that my race was now going to be defined by this cramp. It hurt like hell to run so I stopped and stripped my wetsuit off then jogged to the transition tent and got myself together. My only hope now was that it would loosen up on the bike.

Obviously swim more in training.

Not bad... I think I could have been under 4 minutes if I was more focused.

Move my a$$

So I’m a bit disappointed with my performance on the bike. The bike is usually one of my strengths, but I think my reduced training volume the past two months limited my ability to hammer the bike. If this was a summer race I would have been considerably faster. Still, my ride was OK. My calf hurt as I pedaled but it was more of a nuisance than anything. I was hoping that the painful knot in my calf would loosen up enough on the bike so that I could run well.
The ride was mostly uneventful, I was pounding Gatorade and eating Gu’s and Shot Blocks fairly regularly and I felt fine the whole way. My neck was killing me from riding aero and my butt got sore, but I never felt like I was pushing too hard. I did have to take two bathroom breaks however, so I lost some time there.
There were a lot of drafters on the course. I did not draft at all. I wanted an honest ride and I did not want to get busted. Unfortunately, many racers had no problem riding in pace-lines. By the 90th mile I was pretty aggravated by cheaters passing me. Still, I wasn’t even tempted to join them.
It was cool seeing Julia and Trixie and other BTers out there cheering us on…
Oh, so before the race I thought it would be a good idea to tape my valve holes on my disc… well the tape came off and was jammed between my caliper and my wheel. I rode with that friction for about 75 miles. Looking back, I should have stopped to remove it. I think the accumulative work due to the rubbing over 70 or 80 miles, may have slowed me some. Maybe not, but I’m sure it didn’t help.


Not slack off in my training leading up to the race. My overall fitness was good evidenced by the fact that I felt strong enough to ride a lot farther and I never felt bonky or tired.

This was a very good Ironman transition. I was fast even though I changed into running shorts and a running singlet.

Nada

Damn it all to HELL! I really expected a great run and I was ready to run well. Unfortunately that calf cramp did not loosen up and I knew I was screwed. By mile two of the marathon, I was in damage control mode. My whole strategy was to not walk at any point. It occurred to me that the pain would not improve if I walked… This was going to be a painful jog and that is all there was to it. At mile 3 I saw Andrew Holten walking… I tried to encourage him to run with me and told him that he was only experiencing a bad patch. He said, “maybe, but it is a very long bad patch” – I felt for him and continued on. I passed a few struggling pros and as I finished the first lap the race leader caught me and I ran a mile or so with him just for fun… As we completed the first lap, I got back into my slow groove and buckled down. I was seriously pissed that it hurt so much to run. I felt like I had enough juice, but my straw was cracked. As I started lap two, I thought about quitting. It was really hot out and I was frustrated and I felt like I had lost my desire to race. I fought through that and then marched on. Mark had a huge lead on me and each time I saw him he looked smooth. I was happy for him… Before long I was finishing my second lap and I knew that I would finish. On the last lap I drank a lot of cola at the aid stations and just kept running. The sun was setting and I raced it to the finish. The finish was anticlimactic. I crossed the line and tried to compose my emotions. It was a hard day and now I had some thinking to do.


Nothing. I ran as well as I could on this day. I'm happy that I had the strength not to walk.

Not much... had a water... wanted a beer. Mark was in the massage tent. I don't do massage, but I decided that it would be nice to lay down on the massage table and rest for a spell. The girl was nice and worked on my calf. I told her to be gentle because it hurt like hell.


Obviously the cramp. Also, my limited training due to my move to Vail, my intense work schedule and of course the weather in Vail turned on me.


Ok... so this is a world class event and it should be for $550. There should also be free beer and decent food available after the race for a race that is so expensive. French Fries and Dominos pizza is bush league. Also a tech shirt would be nice, but the greed at NAS stinks and the crappy cotton t-shirt will become a bike cleaning rag. I did not buy a $36 tech shirt (although I wanted one) and NO I WILL NOT tattoo an M-DOT to myself unless I am paid to do so.

OK, sorry... I'll stop the bitchy rant... Yes, I will do another Ironman, NAS or a non Ford iron distance... I think I have a fast ironman in my future, and Kona is not all that important to me anymore. This distance is no longer a mystery to me.

What I learned: I learned that the race is the least important part of why I train. I've been going hard for a few years now, and I have been very focused on this one day in my life. It consumed me. At a certain point in the race I realized that my finish time was really unimportant. I was happy to give Julia my Garmin during the run. I didn't care about splits or breaking a certain time. I just wanted to finish. To move on with my life and to become a better more balanced person. After I finished I was not elated. I did not feel a sense of accomplishment. I was just finished. Within minutes I knew that I had just started... I had just started caring about living again.

I'm having a hard time with this. The thing is I enjoyed training for the IM. I absolutely loved the group rides, training hard with Mark and then drinking beer in his driveway. I cherished my trail runs with Ramone. The epic training rides... the numerous races leading up and all of the friends that I made along the way. I guess I expected Ironman to be larger than all that. It is not. At no point during this race did I get one of those fuzzy chills... I'm writing this 5 days later and I still feel underwhelmed by it all. I walked around after the race and watched proud families greet their finishers and it occurred to me that some things are more important than finish times and personal records. Yeah, I looked around at the scene and I knew that the race was just one day in my life; hardly my most important day.

So I am an Ironman. I knew that already and I didn't need to finish this race for the confirmation. I see ironmen and women every day. People who overcome greater challenges and do so with grace and fierce determination. Sure, I'm proud of being a finisher. I did it, hell yeah! That day is over and the real race continues...