I wanted to position myself about 10 rows back and in the middle of the line across the beach. However, the beach was tiered as you headed to the water and I did not see all the people near the water. So, I was about 50 rows back and talking to Aaron and Tommy when the cannon went-off and the mass of people started moving towards the water. To say that the start was crowded and rough is an understatement. Now I really know what a sock feels like in the washing machine. I tried to swim around people to get further up to the front but had no luck until we rounded the first turn. After the first turn we were straight into rolling waves and even rougher water than on the way out. The good news was that the rough water broke-up the mass of people well and I was able to navigate to some clear water and try to accelerate. I finished the first lap in 35 minutes and was only 5 minutes behind where I wanted to be at this point. The next lap I had to try and stay calm and not try to make-up so much time. The second lap was more difficult due to the water getting even rougher as the day went on.
Overall, the swim was fun but challenging with all the waves and a bit of chaffing on my neck from the wetsuit.

Start further towards the front and more to the outside.

I need to write alot about T1 since I spent so much time there:) The changing tent in T1 was the worst part of my whole day. It was dark, cold, crowded, wet and sandy. I could not find a place to sit, so I tried to change from wet and sandy wetsuit and tri shorts into clean, dry cycling clothes with arm warmers and gloves. None of this was easy standing-up. Everytime I tried to bend down and pull up some dry clothes I had someones butt in my face. The chamois cream had hardened slightly sitting in my bags all night so when I tried to squirt a little into my hand to prevent chaffing on my arse during the upcoming 112 mile bike, I got half the bottle! What do you do with half a bottle of butt-r in your hand and a tent full of naked men? I did what anyone else would do and offered it to others. Just kidding, I slapped the whole lot on my crotch, pulled up my shorts and tired to clean my hands on my wet clothes and run/slide out of the tent.

Move twice as fast and have a more organized T1 bag.

Running out of T1 to the bike mount, I stopped to get on the bike since I had a rear side full of chamois cream and slowly got on the bike. What a feeling! Once up to speed and into a slight cross wind, I started to settle-in on the bike and start to hydrate, set my watch for 15 min nutrition reminders and I tried to calm down. The 1st ten miles weren’t too bad, then it was 45 miles into a head wind. I did my best not to draft, which seemed too tempting for a lot of the athletes. Groups of 15 to 30 riders flew by me during the section into the wind. The referees seemed not to notice them. I told myself to dig deep. If doing an Ironman was easy, everyone would do it. After stopping at special needs (mile 50), I reloaded on fuel, ate a poptart, took a bio-break and got back on the bike expecting to continue into the wind. I wasted about 10 minutes in special needs, talking to people, going through my bag and taking off my jacket, which had been acting like a wind sail. I also had my camera with me and took time to take pictures while riding and in special needs. Luckily, about a mile down the road, we turned the corner and had a nice tail wind and slight downhill. I was feeling good and about 20 minutes behind my anticipated schedule so I popped into the big chain ring and spun up the disc wheel hyperdrive and shot past people like they were standing still for the next 25 miles. It felt incredible to be going 30-35 mph with the disc wheel growling and people just looking at me as I blew past them. Unfortunately, that experience didn't last all the way back. My family and friends were at the base of the bridge about 12 miles from the finish when I came roaring through. It was great to see them at that point. I saw them again as they past me in the car on the way back to T2. They were yelling and screaming words of encouragement as they passed. I expected a tail wind for the last 8 miles only to find what felt more like another head wind. Prior to the race I was really looking forward to the bike portion, but due to the conditions on race day, I was extremely happy to have it over!

Not ride with a wind jacket/sail.

I came into the T2 expecting to have to find my rack, Bike to run bag and then change. Instead, I was met by a volunteer who took my bike and then another who handed me my bike to run bag and directed me to the changing tent. What an incredible experience. Once in the tent, I was able to find a seat to sit down, pour out the contents of my bag and start the process of deciding what to do. T2 was a big change from the swim to bike tent experience earlier in the morning. It was in the changing tents that I learned my biggest lessons of the day. I was unorganized and had more than I needed in each bag. I spent too long trying to decide what to do that I had analysis paralysis and just sat there staring at all the stuff instead of moving quickly and deliberately. Next year, I work on transitions!!! Anyway, once I finally decided what to wear and was able to make the change, I left the tent and came upon Jess (Try Take me Away) offering up sun screen. I couldn't turn that down, so I stopped to get lathered-up and then started to run out of T2. I had a strange sensation as I left that my legs felt too good. It was like I had not even been on the bike.

Be more organized in my bags and deliberate in what I was doing.

The run started off great. Legs felt good and I saw my wife and family right out of transition…I couldn’t have missed them if I tried they were yelling so loud. I stopped to do the hug and kiss thing, and then settled into a pace that I thought would feel comfortable, stopping to walk between each aid station and then walking through each station to eat and drink. The first 13 miles I felt bloated and cramping in my stomach so I just did water and some gatoraide with a GU every 5 miles. All the volunteers were awesome and the people along the course cheering were great. I was very happy I used my number with my first name on it because it actually felt like people were cheering for me when they would yell ‘looking good Michael’ I kept wondering when I was going to start feeling bad but it never happened. At the 13 mile turn around, I stopped to kiss the wife (at least I think it was her) and told her that I was feeling great and would probably go faster the last 13 miles. I stopped walking in between aid stations and just walked when I needed something to drink and eat. I started on chicken broth and coke around mile 15. I needed a boost and I had developed a small cramp in my right calf when I got to a 10 min/mile pace. When I hit mile 20 I sort of kept waiting for ‘the wall’ to hit me in the face, but mentally I told myself that it didn’t have to happen…and it didn’t. I just kept running because I knew if I stopped I might not get started again. With 5 miles to go I realized I had a chance to go under 13:00 if I just ran under 11 min/miles the rest of the way. I had wasted so much time through the day (changing tents, special needs stops, walk breaks, etc) but I felt awesome on my first Ironman experience. I met so many people on the run and was able to talk, even briefly, to most. There were people along the way that picked me up when I needed it, and people along the way that I helped with a kind word. It's just the way it works in triathlon and especially the Ironman. Word had spread amoungst the racers that a fellow athlete had died during the swim. The somber thought stayed with me as I struggled with the emotions of my accomplishment and his family's loss. At mile 23 I met a lady from California who was running about my pace (we had passed each other multiple times) and I struck-up a conversation about finishing in under 13 hours. We decided that it was do-able and something that we should go for. So, for the next 3 miles we ran side by side, offering words of encouragement and warning if one of us wanted to slow or walk. I lost her as we ran past the turn around cone and into the finishers lane. Here is where the emotions of the day, the race end, the year of training and the countless moments of day dreaming about this point all came together. I was so overwhelmed that I started to cry as I ran through this, Tour-de-France type, crowd lined, run path to the finish shoot. The only incline on the entire run course was running up a parking garage driveway to the turn the corner into the finish line about 50 yards away. Turning that corner was surreal as you emerge from the darkness and into a madhouse of noise and people cheering you on. I felt like I was the only person in the race as all the lights were on me and, what seemed like thousands of people, were cheering just for me. I saw myself on the jumbo tv and then saw the finish line 50 yards away. My wife and family went beserk and I waved to them as I floated down the finish shoot towards that, all important, white line. The experience only lasted about 10 seconds but it seemed in slow motion. I crossed the line in 13:00:23, only missing my target by :23 but feeling like I had won the race. I was met by a support person who asked how I felt. I thought this was a funny question after I had just completed a 140.6 mile race but, in hindsight, I understand what she was really asking was, "are you going to passout?" At that point I saw my wife with the video camera crying and I walked to her for the best hug and kiss that I can remember. The next 10-15 minutes were fuzzy as I made my way to the exit for a massage and cool down. I started to see friends and family and people kept putting a cell phone to my ear to talk to all the family and friends who were not able to make the trip but who had been watching on Ironmanlive.com and had seen me finish. I don't remember all the conversations but my youngest daughter had the best line that I still laugh at. As soon as she got on the phone, she said she loved me and wanted to know what took me so long.

Run when you feel good and not according to any pace or rest plan. Also, don't stop at Special Needs for that long.

Walked around like a zombie, got a nice massage from two guys who were very excited about the race and very funny. I can't even remember the massage other than I felt great afterwards. Then it was finding a mylar blanket and walking over to the transition area to collect my bags and bike for the half mile walk back to the condo for my ice bath, shower and something solid to eat.


Wasted time in transitions and special needs due to lack of knowing what to do or expect. Of course, I could always run faster.


I find it hard to even write about this experience for fear that I am not doing justice to the event. Ironman was not just about a one day race, it was about a long journey that ended on a specified date with one last, long day of exercise. There are so many people to thank who helped along the way, specifically my family and training buddies. I could not have accomplished any of this past year's ups and downs without each of you. This is an experience that will live with me forever and I am forever changed because of it.