I have to admit, I was a bit freaked out about the swim start. I am a warm weather athlete and this cold weather and cold water stuff is not what I am used to. Plus, I had only done one other race in a wetsuit and that had not gone well at all, as I had felt constricted on my breathing and ended up floating for a while and going slower than normal to get my breathing under control.

But back to this race, the swim start took us into the channel and a pretty darn strong current. We were supposed to swim out past the first buoy and then turn right. I had started way left to keep out of all the thrashing but also to allow the current to take me to the buoy. If I hadn’t started that far left, there is no way I would have been able to get out fast enough that the current wouldn’t cut me short of the buoy. I imagine more than half of the racers never made it there, but I’m pretty sure that was expected.

Once past the buoy you turn right and just swim for almost 2 miles. I was very pleased to have made the buoy without hitting anyone or, more importantly, being hit by anyone. I have heard a lot about the violence of mass swim starts, but it seemed like in this race, everyone was exceptionally courteous. Only once in the entire swim did I even feel any contact and that person, once contact was made, backed off. Twice I accidently touched the foot of the person in front of me, but also backed off.

Otherwise, it was a long, cold and mostly uneventful swim. Even though it was straight, it was still very difficult to sight. The channel opens up very wide, so swimmers were really spread out, and it was still pretty dark out. I couldn’t see where we were headed so I just tried to follow the swimmers in front of me. At times, it seemed like I was on my own. I looked up and there was nobody in front of me. So, I would turn around and see about a dozen or so people about 30 feet behind me.

It seemed like forever, but I finally saw the “wiggly man” that marked the turn to head toward the marina. And once I got there the swimmers finally bunched up again. At that point I was able to get back on the toes of some swimmers. And at this point, I was pretty cold and looking forward to getting out of the water. And then I realized that it was still going to be another 15 minutes or so to the finish. So, just put the head down and keep swimming.

It’s only now that I realize I wasn’t breathing too hard during the swim. All of my focus was on sighting and getting to the dock. And then, off in the distance and in the dark, there was the finish. Getting closer and closer. I’m almost there. Grab the ladder! I’m out. Are we done yet? Ok. Run up the dock to the marina and find the wetsuit strippers. Whip! Off goes the wetsuit. That is so cool. It usually takes me minutes to get the thing off on my own, but with the wetsuit stripper, it was off in less than a second.

Oh, gosh. It’s cold out. I can’t feel my feet. But we all have to head off on a 300 yard run to the transition area. Again, due to space constraints, there were no spectators at the swim finish. Instead, when you leave the marina parking lot you come around a corner and there were hundreds of people cheering and clanging cowbells. Awesome. Almost forgot about the cold feet. And there were the iron wives. Gave them the thumbs up and looked at my watch. I just finished the longest swim I had ever done.


neoprene booties

Grabbed my transition gear off the rack and headed into the changing tent. I had read about Ironman events where volunteers will help you with your stuff, but this was a smaller race, and a smaller tent, and there were a lot of guys in there. It took a few seconds, but I finally found a tiny spot to work. Grabbed the towel out of the bag and tried to dry off while shivering. Pulled on my long sleeve undershirt and then my bike jersey. Stripped my swimsuit and then pulled on my bike shorts. I opted not to put on the makeshift arm and leg warmers. Instead, I put them in the back of the jersey. Put the helmet on and then the sunglasses. Packed up the transition bag with the wetsuit and off I went. Sounds like it should have gone quickly, but it took forever. I couldn’t feel my fingers and things just didn’t go on easily over wet skin. The transition time is awful. However, it included the 300 yard run from the swim. Also, most other transition times were in the same range. I also didn’t feel in a hurry at this point. The goal of the day was to finish, and a few minutes in transition of a potentially 17 hour day weren’t going to be key.

I had the absolute best bike rack position I have ever had. I was in the front row of bikes and 10 feet from the bike exit. It felt like I was in the pro or elite wave or something, but it was just a matter of the luck of my number. Once I made it to the bike, just grabbed it off the rack and headed out. Gave Karen a kiss on the way out. It was going to be a long day.

Did I mention that I am a warm weather athlete? Did I also mention that it was only 40 outside and I had just come out of cold water. Oh, that first 30 miles was cold. Thank goodness I remembered the gloves. But it still took over 90 minutes before I could feel my toes. And I had to pee too. Kept putting that off too, thinking I could wait until the first water stop. But when I finally got there, there were about 5 people in line for the one porta-john. So, instead, I dropped off my used bottle, picked up a bottle of Heed and some water and kept going, until I got around the next corner. Pulled over, leaned the bike against a tree and headed into the woods. Whew!

The bike course was almost totally flat, and I thought that I should be able to maintain a pretty good pace. Training had not gone well during the last four weeks, but I still thought I could manage 20 mph on flat areas. Not quite. The bike computer had me averaging about 19.5. Pretty good but a little below target. Either way though, I wasn’t going to push it harder than I needed. This is about endurance, not about hitting a round number every hour.

I did actually pass a number of people, and got passed by more.

The plan for the bike was to go through a bottle of Heed, a bottle of water and 1-2 gels every hour. That worked during training and the half ironman, but I’m thinking it may have been too much for this race, at least on the fluids side. The result on the bike was that I constantly had to pee. Every single hour. I had to stop 5 times. My bike computer has an auto pause function where it stops when the bike stops. Comparing my official bike time to the computer time, I ended up spending 15 minutes stopped to pee or trying to find my bag at special needs. I passed the same people over and over. They must have thought I was crazy. The stop at special needs was a little disappointing. The volunteers were trying to help but one of them picked up my bag and couldn’t find me because I was searching through the bags trying to find my stuff. So it took several minutes to find the bag and get things set up. Sunscreened myself and grabbed my PB&J. Best sandwich I ever ate.

The race folks were amazing, and the volunteer support was incredible. There was even one small town, Wallace I think, where it seemed like the whole town was out cheering on riders making a turn. The coordinators did one cruel thing though. Their mile markers were off, and got further off the further we went. My bike computer showed 105 miles when I finally passed the 100 mile marker on the road. At that point I just didn’t know if I had 7 miles left or 12. Had that 10 second conversation with a number of riders as I passed them or they passed me. Fortunately, I finally passed one guy who said he was a local and that our computers were right. One of the best feelings I ever had.

The 110 mile marker was then right on the correct schedule, and one of the greatest things I have ever seen. 2 miles to go. The final miles get you into Wilmington and the traffic. They had closed off one lane for the riders as we headed over the last bridge. This bridge was the first time I had gotten out of 2 gears and actually needed to stand due to the slope. But, knowing how close I was I was smiling the whole time. I kind of felt bad for the folks stuck in traffic, especially if they looked over and saw me smiling like that. Hah! Top of the bridge! Now the downslope. I took this chance to stand up and stretch my legs and back while coasting down the “hill”. Still smiling. Flew around the turn into the battleship park and down that stretch of road. Wheeee!

There’s the ironwives on the left. Gave them the thumbs up again. Smiling like crazy. I am done with the bike. My bike and I had not been getting along these last few weeks, but she got me through this. Like the swim, this was my longest bike ride ever.


Slightly less fluid intake

The volunteers grabbed my bike and helmet as I came across the timing matt. What a great thing for them to do. Makes transition a lot easier. Grabbed my T2 gear from the rack and headed into the tent. Again, crowded but not too bad. Still couldn’t find a chair since several guys were using multiple chairs. Oh well. Off with the jersey, off with the undershirt, off with the socks and off with the bike shorts. Running shorts on, socks on, shoes on, running shirt on, hat and shades on, pack the bag with my bike gear, grab my run number belt and out of the tent. Not too bad in T2 for a full change. It was actually faster than most people.

Coming out of T2 waved to the iron wives and gave them the smile. I’m out on the run, and that’s what I like to do. And I am wired. I might just finish this thing!

Off to the run course and I am doing well. One mile ticked off, 2 miles, 3 miles and four. At three miles we pass through downtown Wilmington and hundreds of people waiting for water taxis are cheering like crazy. What an amazing boost. And I am running well. Tiny aches and pains but these are nothing. A little chafing, but I can deal. I am on pace, breathing well and feeling great. Five miles, six miles. I even got past the 7 mile mark before the first hour was done. Awesome. My ultimate goal would be to break 4 hours on the run, and this pace gets me there with room to spare. Mile 8, time for the second gel of the run. But you know, it is just not looking good. Ok, hold the gel for a mile and see what happens. I need to get calories in, but the stomach is starting to turn on me. I finally took in the gel at mile nine, along with some fluids.

And that’s when the wheels started to get loose. Legs got tired, stomach got ooky. Ok, let’s go to the plan of walking a bit at every mile marker and then running. That’s working ok for a few miles. But I’m just positive I need to keep getting calories in me, since I still have a long way to go. Let’s try an oreo at the halfway mark. Let’s go back in time and not do that. Let’s see if I can even keep walking. Ok. Major pee at mile 14. Hmm. That could be a clue. Perhaps I am still over hydrated. But now I’m a bit dizzy. I had read a race report from someone who barfed and then felt better and got on his way. Thought about that, but I was on the bridge with lots of traffic watching me. Thought about leaning over the railing and letting it go, but realized the railing was low enough that I might go over too. Fortunately, the senses were good enough to stop me from doing that.

Ok. Let’s just keep walking. Mile 14, 15. Ok, heading back into downtown Wilmington. Let’s see if I can run again so these people don’t see me walking. Run into the iron wives and let them know I’m having problems but that I’m still going. Keep jogging. Pass by the aid stations. Maybe take some water. If I see another cup of Heed I’m going to expode. Mile 16, mile 17. Getting better, but the legs are pretty tired. Mile 18 and 19. Holy smokes, this is now the longest I have ever “run”.

The plan now is to run to the aid station and then walk a tenth of a mile and then run again. This is good. Getting me forward. Calculating, calculating. I’m going slow but I am getting there. Obviously, walking for an hour ended any chance of a 4 hour run, but 5 hours? That’s doable. Actually, need to do better to break 12 hours. Mile 20, mile 21, mile 22. I’m going to do this. What will my time be at this pace? Ok, need to pick it up a little. Still skipping aid stations and in the process picking up speed. Actually jogged up the final bridge and jogged down too.

Woohoo! There’s the entrance to the battleship! By now it is dark and I’ve got my long sleeve running shirt on. It is getting cold again. But I am almost done. Some guy in the dark yells out “keep going Ironman!” Not yet, but almost. There’s the lady asking if I’m on my first lap or second. I’m on my second! Now get out of the way. There’s the last corner. Suddenly, the legs are not tired anymore, the stomach is being good. Grab the hat and sunglasses so I can get a good finish line photo.

Cheering crowds and lights and cowbells. Woohoo! There’s the final corner. I am flying. No savoring this. My legs are just moving forward on their own. There’s Karen, quick high five because I can’t slow down. The line is right there.

Wheeeeeeeeeee! I am Dee YOU ENNN, DUN! I am Ironman! There’s my medal and my finishers shirt. Here comes Karen for the post-race photo.

Now what? And the stomach returns. Let’s sit down. No, that cracker is not sitting well.

Longest run I’ve ever done, to go along with the longest swim and longest bike ride.


Fewer fluids.

The iron wives were pretty tired, so we didn’t hang around long. Just packed up the stuff and waited the hour for the water taxi to get back to downtown. I wish I could’ve at least looked around the finish area, but my stomach was not doing well, it was cold and dark and the wives were restless. Took about 90 minutes before I could eat or drink very much, but since then I’ve been eating nonstop.