I knew this swim was going to be a challenge.....but Holy Crap! I lined up about 10 feet from the line right in the middle. What happens when you put 1800 type A nut jobs into the water at the same time, all of whom can swim 2.4 miles between :55 and 1:05, and none of whom are willing to give an inch? The worst case of the Ironman washing machine. It NEVER ENDED! It was a full contact sport all the way around. It didn't bother me and I just banged into and off of people looking for any spot where I could shot forward and make a pass. For the first 1/4 of the swim, there was no need to draft anyone, it was all one big draft. I went over, under, around bodies, legs arms, heads. I made sure to avoid getting kicked and only had one half of my goggles ripped off once. In the brief moments between bodies, I felt very good and relaxed.

Right before the tuen at the sail bot, I found a great pair of feet. He was quick, he was going straight, and he was all mine! I hoped onto his draft and we cruied around the markers. As we turned for home, things became crowded again and I lost him. It took a while to find another decent draft off of someone swimming just a little faster than me, but I did find him eventually and then had to push aside anyone who tried to take him from me! He was my train and I wasn't going to share! As we neared the pier, the congestion became even worse as people stared to sprint to try and make 1:00 flat. I let them all go and just did my thing till the stairs. I exited the water and looked at my watch. I had anticipated a 1:05 swim, just adding 5min to my wet suit IMAZ time, and I was right on target. I was in 503rd place out of the water.

Be a better swimmer to be more in front. I really need to work on that, I need to start finishing under 1:00.

I ran through Transition and a volunteer handed me my bag. I eneterde the tent and another volunteer helped my get out of my Speedsuit and hand me my stuff. It was great! I ran out and all the way around to where my bike was parked. I had clipped my shoes onto the peddles as the run from the tent to the bike was very long. I got to the mount line, swung my leg over the top tube to slip into my right shoe......and it was my left shoe. I had somehow clipped them in reverse!! I had to get off, lean the bike against the barricade and switch them. I nice young girl was standing behind the barricade watching me and I looked up at her and sai, "Well, that didn't save any time!" She laughed, so did I. :)

Learn my right from left.

Once I finally clipped in, I headed out. As I turned off of Palini dDrive, I noticed that my hear rate wasn't registering on my Polar mounted on the bike. I was also wearing one on my wrist with total time. I realized my heart rate strap had come unhooked. I stopped and straddled the bike to hook it back up....and the bike fell over between my legs. I picked it up and started going again, but the S625 still wasn't reading HR. That was ok, as my wrist F11 was, so I could just peak at that. I came to a right hand turn and noticed my brake lever was all askew from falling over, so I pushed it back into place. Then I looked down and saw my seat, which was now crooked!!! It got koncked out of position as well when the bike fell over! I rode a little more to see how much it bothered me and decided to try and twist it back to straight with my thighs. I managed to get it right, but then began to worry that if it was that loose, what would stop the seat post from falling down into the down tube! I didn't have an allan wrench with me and decided to just hope for the best!

There was a 6 mile or so out and back segment in town before you rode up the hill on Pallini to the Queen K. I was now starting to pass a lot of people and as I climbed, I was feeling great...until I saw the disapproving look from my coach, Nick. He was right next to me on the hill. I immediately sat back down remebering his words regarding the first 10 miles of the bike. We laughed and I said, "Too fast, right?" He said, "Today we are competetors" and it was on. As we crested the hill and headed towards the lava fields.

So, what happens when you take 1800 type A nut jobs onto a highway at the same time, most of whom can ride between 5:00 and 5:30, and none of whom are willing to give an inch? The Queen K peleton. Nick and I rode in close proximity to each other until the climb for Hawi. All I saw in front of me was a long line of riders, a lot of which were very clumped together. Nick and I quickly found ourselves literally surrounded by a group. Nobody was willing to drop back when passed and everyone was trying to pass at the same time. It was a mess. The aid stations broke the field apart, but every climb brought us all back together. It was very confusing and I really don't know how I feel about those first 50 miles. We were all going fast and there was no way to get out of traffic. Was it 50 miles of drafting? Yeah, it really was and I sit here today looking back and trying to think what I could have done diferrently and I can't think of a single good option. Anytime I pushed to get ahead, they would pass me on mass and suck me back in. They hammered every hill and I let them go as I kept my HR in check, but then I would just catch up on the flats. I would pass someones front wheel, drop into line, and instead of dropping back, they would just overtake me again. I thought of trying to ride off the back and let them drop me but there were other peltons waiting to suck me in. It was frustrating, it wasn't fair, but it was how the race was going. Finally a marshall rode up on his motorcycle and handed out two penalties to the guys in front of me. I wish it hadn't been so, but I just had to cope as best I could.

When we made the turn around at Hawi, the pack really broke up and the cross wind picked up. I have never ridden in such extreme cross winds. I was almost knocked off my bike a few times. Nick, having made the decision to literally sit up until the pack passed, which I really admire, was about a mile back.As I was approaching the turn around, i hit a bump that caused a recurring and disturbing noise from my front wheel, a ryhthmic clicking sound. It took about 10min to diagnose, but I figured my Polar speed sensor was clipping a spoke or the magnet...I hoped. I was like Han Solo talking to the Millenium Falcon, "Hear me baby? Hold together!".

Now it was time for the descent. Fighting the crosswinds, the peleton blew apart. I was alone, descending, and holding on for dear life at mile 60-70. It was scary, it was fast. I picked off rider one by one. Pull up behind them to 10 meters, check thier pace, make the pass. This is how it went until the end. Heading back along the Queen K the field was all strung out. I was very alone for long stretches until I would catch a rider, check his pace, make a pass. This was more like it. Just you and the lave fields and the aid station every 7 miles.

Hydration and nutrition were going great. I had a Cliff Bar taped to my bars and one in my pocket and ate them before the turn, I had a flask with 6 gels on my top tube I was working through, and I alternated between G.E. and water at the aid stations, roatting the two bottles on my HydroTail. That's all I had, two bottles behind the seat. I still don't get people who got out here with four bottles. Anytime I wanted to go faster, I just kept saying to myself 'marathon'. It was enough to keep me in check. I stood up and stetched often as the miles wound down. Every now and the I would look out onto the ocean to my left and think 'you are riding the bike at the Ironman, enjoy this moment' and I would. But I realized something about myself only after the race. During a race, I am in the immdeiate, I think only about what I am doing at that moment and it's enough. I focus on the now and move forward another mile, another meter, another inch. That's how I race, in the now. I never even gave a thought to what would happen next except for that one word, marathon. It held enough danger for me to respect. I need to finish this race on my feet. Was it fun? yes, but I ws very detached, it was a task that needed to be completed. I knew I was going well, and I just needed to keep it going. Like a machine running on a program, I rode the last 10 miles into Kona towards T2. I was fast, I was efficient, I was a machine that felt nothing but forward motion. I got off the bike in 131st place. My bike had shown up in Kona.

I have no idea, I was in new territory now.

I hit the dismount line and a catcher grabbed my bike. I said a quick thank you and ran into Transition. You had to runa ll the way around the pier to enter from the back. My run bag was handed to me and I eneterd the tent. Another volunteer helped me take my helmet, handed me my fresh sunglasses and my second gel flask. I put on my shoe's and visor and headed towards the exit where the sunscreen appliers were. Now, at IMAZ, they lathered you up with sunscreen. Big glopy hadnfuls of it smeared all over you. I ran up to a volunteer expecting that.....and I gost "pssst, pssst, pssst". They were using those little spray bottles??!!!!!! I couldn't belive it! Hawaii and they are spritzing me with the most useless sunblock ever! I actually started to laugh at the absurdity of of it. I ran away from them knowing full well that I was about to recieve the worst sunburn of my life and that's exactly what I got!

Bring my own sunblock!

As I started to run, my lower back felt very stiff. I figured that would eventually lossen up. I have to be honest, I didn't feel so great for these first 10 miles. I was very hot, my arms were becoming very red and I didn't think my pace was very good. Turn out it was but it didn't feel that way at all. I had a few moments of 'how am I going to do this?' My HR was around 152, the my first order of business was to get that below 150. Once I found that pace, I took advantage of evry aid station to drink and more importantly, pour ice down my racing suit and squeeze sponges across my back and over my arms. At one of the stations, I passed Joanna Zieger while she was throwing up.

The run down Alii was great as there were so many spectators. They would have the race programs and would call out your name after checking your number. I smiled, waved, and whenever possible, verbally thanked each and every on of them. At one point, standing all by herself, two times World Champion Karen Smyers told me I looked great so I figured she would know! About a mile after the turn, I saw Nick running the other way. He looked great and I was sure he would run me down within a few miles. I had seen my family a bunch of times and as I turned off Alii, my wife ran alongside me for 50 feet and gave me a much needed boost. She would later tell me that I looked a little haggared at that point and it was only mile 8! She was worried. So was I.

The hill climb up Palini Rd. was tough, but once you cretsted the top and turned right on the Queen K, everything changed. The wind, missing in town, finally provided some relief and a long, gradual downhill gave me a chance to recover. I struck up a conversation with a nice Austrian dude running next to me as we were very much alone. As we ran down the hill, I saw a woman pro aheaded walking alone. It was Desiree Ficker. She was quietly sobbing as she walked along, knowing a great chance to take this race was slipping away. I turned to her and said, "Hang in there, Desiree." She finished that race and I was so impressed.

The Queen K seemed to stretch FOREVER in front of me. The rolling, long hills weren't too bad and I continued drinking, icing, sponging, and choking down gels along the way. Now the mens leader were approaching on their was to the finish and there was Macca looking like a machine. We all cheered him as he went by, it was going to be his day. I saw another group of my friends out there and they had written my name and Nick's on the pavement. It was great. I played little mind games with myself as my Astrian friend eventually dropped me. I would stare off at a distant Cotsco and think about things my wife and I buy when we go there. It would distract me for 30 seconds, but it helped.

I finally reached the Energy lab and turned down into it. There were a lot of people here, with music playing and people cheering. That was fun. You ran down a long hill and then along the beach to the turn, about 2 miles round trip. As I ran down the hill, I saw Rutger Beke walking along the side of the road, his day coming to an end.. When i reached the turn, I yelled ahead to the volunteers, "Hey, isn't this the finish? Where's Mike Rielly?!!!" They laughed and cheered me on. Now I would have a chance to check again and see where Nick was. i was suprised he hadn't run me down yet. As I was leaving the Energy lab, I saw him running in, over 2 miles back. He looked like he was having a tough day and we passed by each other with no words said, he was fighting his own battle as was I.

Mile 20. Boy that was a big marker to see. 10K left, 6.2 lousy miles, 40min on a good day. Today, it seemed so far away. I realized that i was just barely holding it together. I wasn't feeling any cramping, just crushing fatigue. I knew if I stopped running for a second, I may not get going again. I also knew I could go no faster. People started to pass me. I turned to a man and woman running along strong together and said, "Go for that 9:30!" They said, "Are you coming?!" I said, "Nope!" and I was perfectly happy with that. I had nothing left to give but knew if I could just hold on, I would finish closer to 9:30 than 10. I stopped drinking at this point, I felt like I was good to go until the finish and just kept up with the sponges and ice and dumping water over my head.

With less than 2 miles to go, all I could think was 'crap, I have to run another 2 miles!' When I tunrned to head down to Alii, all I thought was 'crap, I have to run down Alii!' Fianlly I saw the line, heard and felt the crowd and I was overwhelmed by a profound sense of relief and satisfaction. I high fived the hands in the finishing chute and savored the moment as Mike called out my name. It was a very different feeling from my IMAZ finish. At AZ, I felt an incredible sense of elation and excitement but I knew that I would have more work to come. Here, I felt calm and at peace knowing that the journey was over. It was the single greatest accomplishment of my athletic life and I will cherish it forever.

Nothing.

I was handed to a big burly volunteer to help me to the Family area behind Transition. I had an arm around his shoulder and told him I could fall asleep on his shoulder. My mom found me first, tears streaming down her face and she hugged me saying, "I can't believe you did that!" I looked to my wife and then the tears came to my eye's as I put my arms around her and said, "Thank you, it's over now."

I got my Finisher stuff and we sat down to wait for Transition to open to get my gear. Desiree Ficker and her famiuly sat next to me and I congratulated her on a gutsy finish and she thanked me. I felt much better and had some pizza. The rest of our friends came in and we all sat in a circle and I have never felt so loved and so fortunate to have them all in my life. Maybe the best thing about the Ironman World Championship is it brought all of us together at this one little spot of grass behind The King K Beach Hotel, and that moment was the happiest moment of the day.


My 39 year old body!


I just want to end this report and thank all the people who have come along with me on this journey, who have sent in well wishes and comments of support, who helped me learn to be a better triathlete and hopefully a better person in the end.