Yet another swim. The swim start was one of the most depressing thing I have ever seen. No one was entering the water quickly. It was a long, slow death march. I remember just chatting as I waded out there and then falling over to start swimming.

As usual I caught a good draft going out. I was catching some feet on the backside but not nearly as much. The second lap was brutal. I tried to just concentrate on turning over my arms. Over and over and over. I began to feel the effects of the day before. There were times where I felt like the only person left in the water. When I got out, I literally looked back into the water to make sure I wasn't DFL.

Nothing. I gave it my all and surprisingly had a good swim. My time includes the run to transition and is 2-3 minutes faster than my last HIM.

Again, I was a bit melancholy in transition. I was definitely winded coming out of the water...and shivering.

This is where things began to become unraveled. I exited T1 and the bike felt funny in the first 1/4 mile. I made the decision to pull off and check the wheels. Front wheel was flat. FUCK! I had a choice to make. Learn to change a tubular tire or haul ass back towards transition and use my other wheelset. I opted for the later. I flew back to the car and hollered for Jess as I yanked off the front wheel and grabbed my Eastons. She topped off my water bottle and sent me on my way.

This threw me off mentally. Now I am riding a clincher front and tubular rear. Oh and I don't have a spare tube on me. It took me a solid 5-6 miles to settle into a slow race pace. About that time we hit the first big climb...Gawdzilla. It was a nice long climb with a few sections that made you really work as it went back and forth through the mountain. It was here that I began to feel exactly how trashed my legs were.

I just sat back and enjoyed the nice descent. The middle section of the course flattened out. It simply amazed me how difficult it became to push 17-18 mph on the flats. The legs were completely beat. The final 10 miles of the first lap were nearly all uphill. I kept searching for extra gears...but couldn't find them.

The race was completely unsupported so there was no bottle exchange. Instead, you placed you bottles at the turnaround on the tables provided. In anticipation of this clusterfuck (nearly 2-300 bottles), I gave Jess my bottles and told her I would meet her at her car for the exchange. This worked flawlessly as I bypassed the mess.

The second lap was even more dismal than the first. When I hit Gawdzilla, I began to lose it mentally. I nearly pulled off the climb to just sit down. I had trouble gathering myself enough to concentrate on the course. When I hit the flat section...I lost it emotionally. I knew I had 10 miles to go and all I could think about was pulling out of the race. Nothing seemed to work. I was eating and drinking; eating and drinking. I was hoping that would work but the fatigue was overwhelming. I wanted OFF the bike.

When I hit the final climb there was nothing I could do. I was about delirious. I seriously thought I was rolling backwards. I wondered if it was easier to walk up the hill. Finally I made it to the top....I enjoyed the slow descent. I made it back to transition with my head hanging low coming off the worst bike I have ever had.

Well the flat was user error. I know I pumped my wheels twice that morning but I think my pump was acting up. I never rode the bike prior to the race so I didn't discover it before hand. Monday night I pumped it up and it still has air.

Figure out why I always drop my chain on that bike.

Take an ice bath the night before and focus more on recovery

This seemed like the longest transition in the history of the sport. When I hit the dismount line I was a complete zombie. I got off my bike and SLOWLY walked the length of transition. SLOWLY. I finally made it to my rack and all I wanted to do was sit down and cry. I gathered my stuff and walked out of transition. I remember Jess talking to me but I have no clue what was being said.

What can I say...this was my 8th transition of the weekend. I was over it. And I still had to run 13.1 miles on a brutal course

Oh my. I tried to run. I really did. I made it to .5 a mile and began walking. I gathered myself and tried again. I hit the bathroom just before mile one at about 9:05. Sweet. I tried to run. I really did. I tried to run. I really did. That was pretty much the story of the day.

I altered my race strategy to walk when needed and to walk anything that looked like an incline. I also took as much as I could from each aid station. The 2.8 mile climb was pretty rough. There was very little walking. But I made sure to make the downhills really count. I cruised into the first turnaround feeling like I got a bit of my second wind.

I walked most of the climb back up and took off on the downhill. It is amazing how much better it made me feel. I hit the flats and if I felt bad, I stopped and then mentally prepared myself to start running again.

The whole weekend I was dreading going on the second lap. I thought this would be my breaking point. Instead, I was actually beginning to find my run stride. At this juncture I was just praying for a 2:30 half mary. That is so depressing.

I started running the second lap with Jungle Jenn and we were chatting, walking, chatting, running. It seemed to work for a while. I was starting to re-engage at this point. My stride was coming back. I still walked the uphills but I was beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. When I hit turnaround I was pumped...only one more climb and it was all downhill. Finally I hit the glorious downhill and I grew happier and happier by the moment. The death march was nearly over.

I casually strolled to the finish line. The Triple T was OVER.

I am not even going to second guess myself. It was a brutal weekend and I was able to finish.,

I took the shoes off, grabbed some food and ate. It felt SO good to sit down. I sat for about 10 minutes before going to the creek for some recovery time. I chilled there for about 10-15 minutes and then it was time to say goodbye and head back to civilization.


A race like this doesn't really lend itself to second guessing yourself. I learned a lot about myself racing. When I go back THEN I will make the adjustments needed.


This race totally rocked. I was very impressed by the way HFP handled everything throughout the weekend. 4 races over 40 hours and it all seemed to work flawlessly. I would highly recommend any of their races.