Best. Swim. EVER!! Wow, what can I say? Everything that could go right, did! With the starting horn I launched immediately into a hard effort. I felt like a torpedo! Right off the bat, I left all but the fastest fish in my wake. After the first 300 or so meters I started to back off a little and settled into a good crusing pace. I quickly spotted one of the fast swimmers ahead of me and slipped into his draft. This was awesome! I was actually smiling as I swam. I drafted off this guy for a good 60% of the swim. I was feeling so smooth and relaxed, yet I was hauling butt! I was surprised at how calm my mind was. I could actually concentrate on my technique - gliding effortlessy with long, powerfull pulls. I was so relaxed, that I was actually already composing this race report in my mind as I was swimming LOL! At the last turn towards the shore, my fast friend started to put a little distance between us and I let him go. I was in a great place and would come out of the water with my heartrate in check. Wow, what a swim. One thing to note - I am pretty sure that the swim course was more than a bit long. I know that my pace was good for a sub 32min but was surprised to see 34 on the clock as I exited the water. Looking at the times of the fastest swimmers, I am sure that this is the case - the first guy out of the water swam a 32 and he was absolutely FLYING!

Absolutely nothing! Definitely the best race swim I ever had. My navigation was flawless and I hugged the buoy line perfectly. I love, love, LOVE my new wetsuit! It fits like a second skin and has an elastic wing like material under the arms which assist when you pull. I pray that IMAZ goes half as well!

4th out of the water and in great spirits, I jauntily jogged into T1 where my bike was in the first rack. Shoes, helmet and glasses on and I was out of there. Finally a good smooth transition! Unfortunately because my bike was on the first rack, I had to run almost 80m through the entire Half-Iron, Olympic and Sprint racks to get to the bike out. Thankfully, being 4th out of the water, there was no traffic to contend with and my mountain bike shoes are easy to run in so I didn't lose too much time.

Nothing. I had a faster T1 than the guy I drafted behind in the swim so gained a position. I was in 3rd place overall! I thought I was dreaming!

Everything was going to plan. For the first 10 miles, I was going to go easy, making sure to keep my HR in check and spin up the hills. This course has a lot of elevation change and it is tempting to jump out of the saddle on the hills but I resisted. It was very lonely on the course and I didn't see anyone until nearing the turnaround. First and second place were about 3 or 4 minutes ahead of me at this point. After the turnaround, I decided to risk a little more energy expenditure and started to push a little harder. With 10 miles to go, The heat was starting to become noticeable. My head was getting hot and the comfort that I had been enjoying for most of the bike was starting to fade fast. I just needed to hang on a little longer because I could see the guys ahead of me. All I had to do was keep them in sight and I had the chance to reel them in on the run. I couldn't believe how well I was executing this race! Last year at this very same event, I remember feeling so fatigued - my mind a malaise. I was mostly zoning out and just focusing on trying to finish. Here I was one year later in 3rd overall - cool, collected and calculating how I could adapt my strategy to beat these guys in front of me. 7 miles to go and things were looking good when suddenly I heard the loud pop-hiss that every cyclist dreads. I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!!! MY EFFING REAR TIRE JUST BLEW!!!

To quote Darth Vader: NOOOOOOOOOOO!

Triathlon gods, why have you forsaken me?!

It's amazing how quickly I transformed from James Bond into Woody Allen! My slick, cold, calculating veneer was instantly stripped away and I was a shakey, stumbling mess. I sloppily got off my bike accidentally dumping it over and spilling my drink all over the road. I fumbled with the rear disk, trying to get it off the chain out of the horizontal dropouts! Once out, I had to pull off the taped patch that covered the valve stem. This was black electrical tape that had become virtually melted in the heat. Once I had the old tube out I felt along the inside of the tire and found the culprit: a staple. Dammit! I managed to get the new tube in but fumbled with the CO2 cartridge and lost almost half of the gas to before getting it in the tube. By the time I got everything back together it was too late. The damage had been done. Several people had passed me, my heartrate was on overdrive, I was overheated and my water was empty. To add insult to injury, I limped back to T2 on an under-inflated tire. Wow what a turn of fortune!

Other than the last few miles, I think I executed a flawless bike leg. I am dissapointed in my failure to keep calm in a crisis. I totally fell apart out there and that more than anything ruined my race. Based on the pace of the guy in 2nd I was looking at a potential 2:52 bike which would have been phenominal for me considering the heat and the hilliness of the course.

By the time I got into transition, the temps had skyrocketed and I was hot and thirsty. Now I was in crisis management mode. I was trying to figure out if there was any way for me to salvage the race at this point. I was going to have to murder this run if I was to catch anyone. I was dying of thirst so I hit the aid station at the exit of transition and downed 2 cups of ice water.

I shouldn't have had so much water. I didn't realize it at the time, but I was very low on sodium. Unfortunately, there were no electrolyte drinks at this aid station.

My race went from bad to worse on the run. I was trying to make up lost time so I started off at a pretty good clip. The sun became a glowing orb of suffering as the temps continued to climb. Unfortunately, there is absolutely no shelter or shade anywhere on this course of sand and asphalt. My heart was pounding in my chest and I could hear my blood rushing in my ears. To make matters worse, the first 5 miles of the run are a steep incline that sucks the life out of you. By the time I made it to the aid station at mile 4, I was seeing stars. I stopped quickly to grab a drink when suddenly my legs just stopped working! I plopped down on my butt ungracefully and resisted the strong urge to vomit and/or faint. MELTDOWN! I was over-heated and dehydrated. My heartrate was through the roof and my blood pressure had plummeted. I crawled over and rested in the shade of a port-o-jon. One of the volunteers ran over with some sportsdrink and told me to sip slowly. A good 10 minutes passed. I couldn't believe this was happening! Less than an hour ago, I was having the best race of my life. Now, I was focusing all my attention on not retching all over myself. So this would be my first DNF? I guess it had to happen sometime. In my delirium, I imagined myself in one of those Kona broadcasts. As I sat there, slumped miserably against the port-o-jon, I could almost hear Mike Rowe narrating:

"This is athlete number 197. His day has turned upside down. What looked like a podium finish as turned into a nightmare. You have to wonder what is going through his mind. And then, from some where deep within all the layers of pain and doubt, a small flame is lit. A flame of determination that, with each passing second, is stoked into a blazing inferno. He gets up. Can he really finish this thing?"

And then I was up. I started running. It was the hardest thing I have ever done. I felt so terrible. All the voices in my head were desperately pleading with me to stop - trying to tempt me with rationalizations and promises of relief. I ignored them. A day will come when my willpower is not strong enough. A day will come when I give up. A day will come when I succomb to the voices in my head - but today is not that day! I pushed and I pushed and I pushed. I even managed to overtake a few people (who looked like they were not having much better of a day than I was). I probably wasn't running faster than a 9min/mile but it felt like I was in a zone 5 sprint! After what seemed like an age, I stumbled over the finishline. Incredibly, I managed to finish 9th overall and 3rd in my agegroup (only a couple of minutes behind 1st!) While not my best result (obviously), I will cherish this race because of the lessons that I learned and the way that I endured during such suffering.

Listen to my body better. I should not have pushed so hard out of T2 considering the blazing temperature and hills with so little hydration in the tank. Lesson learned.

I basically stumbled straight from the finish line into the lake to cool off. I sat there a good 10 minutes letting the waves lap over my arms and legs. It felt sublime.


A bit of bad luck - and some bad decision making at the end. I wonder how things might have gone had I not flatted. That seemed to be the primer for the unravling of the rest of my race. I still PR'd this race by 12 minutes even with all the eff-ups! Even if I had the best of races, this is one HARD half ironman! The bike course is hot and very hilly, the run course is hotter and hillier and there is no hiding from the relentless sun. A good third of the field DNF'd.


I have a couple of problems with the RD- there were supposed to be 2 aid stations on the bike and there was only one. Some of the aid stations on the end of the run were not manned. The food at the finish may have been good - but I'll never know because by the time I got there it was all eaten by the sprint and olympic racers. Also please wait until all the athletes have crossed the line before dismantling the finish. I was 9th over all and they were already taking everything down. I can't imagine how demoralizing it would seem to be struggling all day only to finish in an empty parking lot.