I've come a long way since my first cold water swim two years ago when I hyper-ventilated and toyed with the idea of calling for help. The key seems to be going for a practice swim the day before the event. Even a quick dip in the water seems to set my body's thermostat to something do-able. It's like you give your brain a little bit of information on the challenge it's facing, and it just dials in the necessary settings for you, as long as you don't get in the way with irrational fears and rumination on worst-case scenarios.

Edging out onto the boat's deck and watching the swimmers ahead of me take the leap was great. Before I knew it, I was on the lip of the deck waiting for the swimmer below me to clear a path into the water. Heard a race official urging swimmers to keep the line moving. "Gotta go, people!" Big breath in and then I did.

Splashed down and swam out twenty or so meters before popping up to look for my friend. Caught sight of him waving, and he pointed out some of the landmarks on the SF skyline to shoot for. We set off, and I felt unbelievably good. I won't say that I was warm exactly, but I certainly wasn't cold, and I was able to make my arms and legs coordinate their activity in just the way I'd imagined. First look at my watch showed that I had forgotten to start my event timer, so I took a moment to do that. Also noted that my HR was 151. Didn't feel winded or tired, but obviously my body was reacting to the special circumstances of the moment.

My friend and I planned to swim out into the channel, then regroup and spend a few moments contemplating our next move. Out in the bay, I rolled over on my back and felt giddy as hell while taking in the sights. Looked at the island behind us, the Golden Gate capped by fog, the Oakland shoreline off in the distance. So spectacular, it's hard for me to describe. Felt intensely alive and happy to face down a challenge which seemed overwhelmingly scary just a few months ago. It's that exact feeling which makes these races so fulfilling. It was definitely the highlight of my race. Felt so damn good about life at that moment I decided to cap it off by peeing in my wetsuit.

Got myself to shore more quickly than expected. Favorable currents or good sighting or both, I'm not sure which, but it ended sooner than I would have liked. All kinds of hills to contemplate from that point on.

Things went well for me out there. Probably could have shaved a couple minutes off my time if I hadn't been so entranced by the surroundings, but I'm glad I stopped to see the world from that vantage. Anyway, it was good to modertae my energy output.

As others have noted, T1 included a pretty good run from water's edge to the bike racks. I jogged in slowly while sucking a gel pack, then worked calmly and deliberately in the transition area to bring the HR down a bit. Slow as dirt, but again, probably a good idea for me to conserve my energy.

It occurred to me on the boat ride out to Alcatraz that I'd forgotten to attach my cycling computer (had it in my saddle bag for no good reason). Made a mental note to remedy that after the swim, but like so many other mental notes, this one got buried in the stack. Pedaled out onto the course, got up to speed on the first first flat stretch, went down into aero, then checked my speed. Doh.

Had my mantra playing on loop mode: "Gotta climb, LOVE to climb." A couple miles to get situated out of T1, a quick stop to attach my cycling computer (oops), then it was hills, hills, and HILLS, until mile sixteen or so. Granny-geared up some of the bigger inclines, then screamed down while the acid in my quads still sizzled. Cat and moused along most of the course with my friend and an M-dot racer who had the same general approach as me (i.e. slow). On one particular climb, I actually found a way to moonwalk on my bike. LOOKED like I was pedaling forward, while actually rolling backward. My best bike trick yet!

Very nasty crash at the bottom of a steep descent near mile 13. Two riders injured, one seriously. Don't know the details, but the scene (including multiple spinal boards) was very sobering. Eased off a bit after that, especially where the road was bouncing me around a bit.

Let a few people slip by on the last stretch into T2. Final chance for some real nutrition and a good chance to bring the HR down. It's all about setting about the run, right?

I'm pleased with how this went. I'm slow, but plenty were slower, which shows that progress comes with persistence. Made better use of my new aero bars than I thought I would, given the terrain and challenges of this course. Lost a little time to attach my cycling computer, but I'm pretty dependent on it mentally for mileage and speed.

Not too bad. Sat down to re-lace and clean some sand out of my shoes, but I'd rather be sure that things are right from the get-go than risk blisters on the course.

Went into this one with a simple mission: leave yourself enough for the end so you don't end up walking. I knew it was hilly, a bit technical, and, of course, the legend of the sand ladder was looming in my mind. Figured I ought to make the most of my HRM since running by feel tends to lead me to bad places.

I set myself a 160 HR mark, figuring that that was slow enough not to sap me, but fast enough to log a respectable split. Was surprised at how slow I had to go in the middle portions of the run to keep under that mark. The bigger hills had me up to 165-168. Went up to 170 down on the beach where the soft sand made traction difficult. Don't know exact numbers for the sand ladder, though I presume that's what accounts for my MAX HR (184). Took Clif bloks and a gel along the way, biding my time for the descent back to the water and the flats which lead into the finish.

Felt amazingly good coming up on the mile six mark, and decided I could spend whatever was left in the tank. Started to open things up and pass the people I'd had my eye on for much of the day. Fat guy with billion dollar bike? Passed. Old man with curiously styled hair. Passed. Pink bikini woman. Ciao.

Came up on a guy with Hammer Gel sponsorship gear and started matching strides with him. Good pace for both of us, so we chatted a little and agreed to run in together. He was a big guy from Texas and running with him gave me the lift I needed to get home. We reeled in BUNCHES of runners together. With about a mile to go, he checked his watch and noted that our last mile was 7:09 pace.

Started to burn, but focused on breathing and form. HR up to 171 now. As we came into the marina, I told him I'd follow him in as he'd come farther than me to compete. No way, he said, leave it all out there. I found one more gear when the chute came into sight and picked off two more before "breaking the tape" with the Texan right behind me. Don't think I've ever finished with such intensity. Felt freaking great.

Probably gave up a bit of time by starting off conservatively, but I love the way I came home. Can't see trading that for anything. Perfect run.

Grabbed water and went back to rendezvous with my one-person cheering squad. Got back to the chute in time to see my friend knock 20 minutes off his PR for the course. Incredible day.


I was conservative throughout most of the day. Given the challenges of the course, that turns out to have been prudent. Bet I could get close to the 3:00 mark if given another chance, but I'm perfectly happy with how things went.


You won't find many races that compare in terms of spectacular settings and unique challenges. Far and away, the best of my racing expereinces. Would do this one again in a (Zone 4) heartbeat. I wanted to find a line between relaxation and exhilaration, and that's exactly where I raced.