2013 - What a Year!

Normally I am not a look back type of guy.  But with 2013 in its last few hours, thought I'd spend a few moments reflecting on the year.  2013 started with a fun new years eve black tie party and is ending with a trip to Sanibel Island.  The 365 days in between had many highs and yes some lows.   But every moment came with lessons being applied to the future (looking ahead).  

Here are a milestone from 2013...

Completing Ironman Coeur D'Alene

Has to be the top of my list.  I accomplished my goal of racing 140.6 miles (still in awe that I did it).  IM CDA was just one-day, but the training took up a big chunk of my life this past year.  Besides being all consuming from a time perspective (my life was scheduled in hour chunks - the training alone was epic and came with some sacrifices in the form of my social life).  However, I would never have changed a thing.  I am an Ironman and in doing so honored my father and gave back to physically challenged athletes.

The finish line video still makes me smile.

Having An Amazing Support Crew (a/k/a Friends/Social Network)
You learn a lot about who is in your corner when raising $10K+ (and asking for money from your friends) and training for an Ironman (yes that again).  Luckily my triathlon friends/network understood what it takes to get from the start to the finish line and that raising money for CAF meant a lot to me.  When my non-triathlon friends finally stopped asking if I was crazy, ceased making fun when I left bars/dinners at 8:00pm to sleep or passed on parties, they were in my corner in terms of support and helping to accomplish my goals of racing and fundraising,

The Support of My Family/My "Rocks".  My family (blood and otherwise)  deserve a special call out from what I put them through this year.  From being nay-sayers to being the first people I needed to see before the start of CDA and wanted to see at the finish line (after trekking to Idaho).  I promised not to do another IM...until 2015!

Having a Work/Life Balance:  Boy did this come into play this year.  Accenture's culture really allowed me to handle working 40+ hours a week, taking on new management responsibilities, and of course training (on average) 15-hours a week.  My colleagues tolerated the countdown clock on the white board and the constant smell of chlorine in my office.  Having everything so scheduled, actually made me a better, more focused employee too.  I also managed to weave in my love for triathlon into two Accenture-sponsored races in Oceanside (CA) and NYC (Paratriathlon).  We also launched a new sponsorship of Dark Universe at the American Museum of Natural History (AMNH); go see it (and explain it to me after). 

Pursuing More Coaching/USAT Board: Opportunities: I coached someone to his first full marathon and advised a few racers for the NYC Tri; learning a lot and honing my coaching skills along the way.  Being a member of the USAT NE Board (chairing Paratri and Grants Committees) offered new perspectives and opened new networks.

 Enjoying the Off-Season - Finally!  Boy did I enjoy this and made up for 10-months of being on the social-life bench.  A trip to Peru, a few days in Ocean Beach (Fire Island) and in Denver (ah those margarita's at Rio Grande), celebrating my bday in Vegas, watching and not running the Komen Race for the Cure, heading to Barbados for my sister's bday  and enjoying a rum punch tour (thanks Clare and Geoff), learning the butterfly stroke (thanks Earl!), studying Florence and the Machine's music in time for the AMNH's Fall Gala, spending a weekend in La Jolla with CAF friends at SDTC, cheering on NYC Marathoners and finally, the holiday season in NYC.

Here are some random photos from Facebook.  Enjoy the year in pictures.

Looking Ahead to 2014
While not resolutions, here are some milestones I look forward to in 2014....Will check back in 365 days and see how these go.

• I have joined a new triathlon team - Tailwind Endurance wih new teammates.  Project Faster will (hopefully) get me to a new PR in the half-ironman distance
• Taking a more active role in the International Paratri movement
• Taking on new challenges such as a back-to-back century ride in August
• Serving as a change agent at work and being a better manager/mentor
• Pursuing new opportunities outside of triathlon (a/k/a making a priority for a vibrant social life)
• (Yes), Not being so attached to my iPhone...

For now, a happy and healthy new year. 

Ironman Recovery? How about a walk around Peru?

Maybe this wasn't my brightest idea ever, but less than a week after IMCDA I traveled to Peru. My friend Kara Dunn and I started the trip on Friday night (LGA>MIA>LIMA>CUSCO) finally making it to the Sacred Valley on Saturday afternoon.

For the rest of the week we climbed up Machu Pichu (what can you say about one of the seven wonders of the world, but wow!), walked around the City of Cuzco (the Capital of the Inca Empire), took a boat ride around Lake Titicaca (the world's highest navigable lake at 4000M), finally going to Lima before heading home.

Training for an IM does not prepare you for the various changes in altitude.  We went from sea level in Lima, to 2500M in the Sacred Valley, to 3500M in Cuzco to finally 4000M in the Lake.  Glad to neither of us got sick and while we had to sometimes stop mid trek to catch our breathes,  every step in Machu Pichu, every trail in the villages in the lake and every climb in the Sacred Valley was made.

It was an amazing week with amazing photos (warning, there are many) on Snapfish and/or Flickr.  Enjoy!

Some impressions

• Amazing scenery - especially Machu Pichu (of course), the Sacred Valley and the markets (the pictures do not lie)
• There are people living on floating islands (literally made of weeds) who rely on solar power for all electricity.  Some of them also have DirectTV (go figure)
• For 1 Sol (their money), you can take a photo of a traditional Incan
• Lots of Llamas and Alpaca (we actually now can tell the difference b/w the types of wool)
• I used to think if you learn how to drive in NYC you can drive anywhere.  Amend that.  If you learn how to drive in Peru.  They are nuts!  
• We had amazing tour guides.  Never try and see the sights without one
• Lima was just ok.  Glad we only spent a day there
• They eat Guinea Pigs -- as a delicacy (no I didn't try and but did taste Alpaca meat)
• There is no stand-out food in Peru (well I guess if you like Guinea Pig), but the Pisco Sours do pack a punch
• Taking a taxi is an exercise in negotiation.  No meters.  All bargaining
• While many of the people are poor, they actually like a simple lifestyle
• By the end of the week, I was "Inca'd out"

IM CDA – The Biggest journey yet

To sum it up, Ironman Coeur D’Alene (CDA), my first Ironman (IM) was one of the hardest, most grueling experiences I have ever faced.  Training for it was my life for the past nine months and I do not regret a single moment of it.   I was not racing for time, but to experience an IM race, to honor my father and to raise money for Challenged Athletes everywhere.  At the end of the day, I finished and am now officially an Ironman!    Remembering this got me through the darkest moments of the race.  This is my race report from IM CDA 2013.

Before going any further, there are many people that need to be thanked (feel like the Oscars here). 

• I would not have been able to get through the training or the race day without their endless support  Earl Walton.  Coach extraordinaire and founder of Tailwind Endurance (TW) -- where I spent more hours on a CompuTrainer than want to count -- for putting up with the endless emails full of questions and the hours of face/face meeting.  He equipped me with the tools to be an IM finisher. 
• Rob Gibbons who I suckered into doing this race with me and was the constant counsel along the way. 
• My family and family who, despite protests of going to Idaho, went and were the best support crew who got us through the darkest moments on the course (Alyne Model, Alexa Model and Ruth Randall, Maclean Guthrie, Cathy Caldararo, Christine Freda and Alexander Stephens).  You cannot get through an IM if your family and support network is not behind you.  No question about it.
• The many training partners (Randi Gordon, AnneRonzoni, Ken Szekretar, Kristine Entwistle, Roy Perkins, John Ratzan, to name a few) who kept me company during long workouts
• Those IM sages for providing tips and advice along the way (you know who you are), my work colleagues and teammates who put up with the IM countdown clocks and the endless conversations about races and nutrition. 
• QT2 Systems (and Jaime Window) for the race nutrition plan and MikeSherry for several the bike adjustments. 
• Finally, the donors who contributed to my fundraising.  Collectively, we raised over $11k which will go a long way to helping others in need. 

Pre-Race

The same protocol employed for other races came into play (fly in, situated, register, prep and then race) for IM CDA.  Rob and I flew in to CDA on Wednesday and settled into a condo we rented located near the finish line (a key for later on) and after a quick bite in downtown CDA decided to drive the bike course making notes of hills and changes in the road.  We both sent our bikes via TriBike Transport (TBT) which and were not scheduled to fetch them until Thursday afternoon.

Side note…the weather. 

Idaho weather is unpredictable.  Forecasts called for nice weather in the days leading up to the race.  However, when we arrived, it rained…for two days straight.  Race weather (I checked often) kept changing from thunder, to overcast, to rain, to sun.  At least tracking the weather helped to keep my mind off of the race itself. 

The days leading up to an Ironman are somewhat similar to any other race, but with a lot more moving parts.   In an IM (for those who don’t know this), there is no actual transition area.  Instead of having your own spot where you prepare for the various legs of the race, you have bike and run clothing bags, special needs bags, and morning clothing bags.  You actually change outfits during each segment and change clothing in a changing tent (more on that later).   We spent most of Thursday assembling the stuff we needed for our race. 

Lake Coeur D’ Alane is cold.  No way to state it otherwise (on a “warm race day” it’s low 60s).  The only way to acclimate for it was to keep getting into the water.  So on Thursday morning we got up, and went for a swim.  While the swim is one of my strongest legs, two weeks prior to heading out, Rob suggested I buy a neoprene hat to wear. In case the water was frigid.  Perhaps it was the colder air, but when we got it, the water wasn’t as bad as I remembered from last year when we came out to watch the race.  After a quick 25-min swim (all that Coach Earl allowed us), we officially registered (at least we got nice new backpack out of all of this), did a quick run on the course (at least the first two miles), picked up the bikes from TBT and started to assembly all that we need for the race (we had another chance to swim on Friday morning too).  

Friday was basically the same, but we entered into the meal preparation phase of our IM planning.  Both Rob and I were following the race nutrition plan from QT2 Systems which called for, basically a lot of eating.   Each meal was timed and is focused on preparing our bodies for whatever we needed on race day.   After the swim and a quick ride of the run course (mostly to test out the bikes) we ate our big lunch and waited for Christine, Alexa and Cathy to arrive (Mom and Ruth came in on Thursday and Maclean and Alexander came in on Saturday).  In the afternoon, we (Rob, Christine and I) did another quick run (the big lunch gnawed at my stomach so only ran a bit) pointing out possible spots to watch the race.   

The day before an IM, is basically waiting and resting which is exactly what we did.  A big Denny’s breakfast, followed by sitting on the couch and packing and re-packing our race bags consumed most of the day.  As mentioned before, there is no transition spot in an IM.  Instead, we have to pack everything we may need for both the bike and the run and put them into marked bags.  For this race, like other Half Ironman races, we needed to rack our bikes on Saturday.  In addition to the bikes, we had to also hand in both our bike and run bags on Saturday (we’d arrive on race morning with our special needs bags for both bike and run on race morning).   

We heard from a lot of people providing some last minute advice for race day.  Ones that I kept with me during the day (no disrespect to others) were from Sari and Gil Schorr (separately) telling me to take one mile at a time and to savior the moments, RevekaWallace making sure that I control what could and let everything else happen, Anne Ronzoni telling me to stay in the moment at all times and not focus on what lies ahead, Julie Golden telling me to smile at the finish line and of course Earl making sure that I knew that“we got this” and to trust our training.” 

The big day

I am known for my crazy pre-race routines.  I know and embrace this.   So in usual fashion, two alarms were set for 3:00am on Sunday.  At the appointed time, I stumbled from bed, and prepared my Race Day breakfast of three cups of apple sauce (Rob had to eat 4 ½ cups), whey protein, a sports drink and a banana.   After “breakfast”, a quick nap, and some last minute preparation and head out to the race start. 

After handing in our special needs bags (which has anything we may need to get us through the second half of each segment), we checked on our bikes as well as our bike and run clothing bags (which we dropped the day before) and waited (and waited) on the porta-potty line.  The time flew…all of the sudden it’s 6:00am and the professionals were in the water. 

The emotions of the day caught up with me as the national anthem played.  I had no idea what this day would bring, but knew I was racing for a greater purpose. 

Side note:  I was able, through the folks at Ironman, to get our entire crew VIP passes for the race.   This allowed them beach access for the swim and great viewing for the finish line.  

The Swim

For the first time in IM history, the race would not be a mass start, but rather a self-seeded coral based on projected swim finish times.  Partially for safety reason, IM CDA was indeed the test case for future IMs.   Earl and I thought I would be between 1:10-1:20 so opted to started in the 1:15-1:30 wave.  I am a faster swimmer than Rob (something both he and Earl know), but we decided that Rob would start the swim with me.    I opted not to wear a watch for the swim and to just go by feel.  I was confident in my abilities and knew the swim was one of my strengths.  The wave start, in my view, helped a bit, but the start of the swim was congested.   I was very happy to see Mom, Maclean, Alexa, Cathy, Christine and Alexander before jumping into the water.  Having the support crew by my side was emotional as I closed my eyes to focus some more.

Mike Reilly (the voice of Ironman) shouted “who is ready to be an Ironman today?”  We all waved our hands as we were ushered us to the start line to begin our race.  I dove into the lake and was aggressive to start (like Earl suggested), and quickly settled into a rhythm (stroke, stroke, sight).  I was a little off course at first, but kept focused and shut off my brain (I tend to drift when the brain starts to think).  I collided with many people and tried to catch a draft when I could.  However, I quickly realized that those who I drafted off of were slower than I was going so tried to move to the next group. 

Each buoy was marked  (yellow on the way out, red at the turn-around and orange on the way to shore).  Every stroke was another inch closer to the shore.  I kept Sari’s mantra of one mile at a time in my head as I passed each marker.  As I rounded the second turn around and headed to shore, my swim drifted to the right a tad (didn’t help that I breathe to the right which is where the sun was rising), blinding me at times (note to self, swim more to the left on the second loop).  Sighting the swim turn around (and the second 1.2 mile loop), I focused on getting to shore.  I pop out and see Christine and hear call my name.  A quick wave and jump back into the lake for the second loop. 

The second loop was like a scene from American Gladiators.  I was kicked in the face, pushed against, kicked some more.  Yet, I tried to find open water.  Each buoy seemed to come slightly faster on this loop and I was soon heading to shore.   Focused I kept stroking and being present and swimming my race not anyone else’s (something that would carry me through the ride).   The swim exit was in sight and I knew 2.4 miles of 140.6 was in the bag.  One mile at a time.   I approached the shore line and again heard Christine shout my name.  No need to look down at my time, I trot into the transition area to get stripped of my wetsuit, grab my bike clothing bag and head into the changing tent. 

Swim to Bike

I have often said there is no modesty in triathlon.  We are used to people speaking about bodily functions and being naked.  I get to a chair, and basically strip, towel off (putting powder anywhere I could to help dry myself off) and start to dress for the bike. Bib shorts and race jersey on, lube everywhere (and then some), oops, I out the wrong sock on the wrong foot.  T1 may have taken me forever, but I am not winning this race.   I trot out of transition, have the amazing volunteers put sunscreen everywhere not covered and head to my bike.  I grab Malibu (if you don’t get the reference, look back at prior race reports) and head out on the 112-mile leisurely ride. 

Side note:  The volunteers on the IM, were in a word, amazing.  Not only were they there wherever we needed them, but they were incredibly helpful, friendly and thankful of us being there. 

The Bike

The bike is not my best leg.  I am a conservative rider and while more confident than in the past, know my abilities.  The first part of the ride mirrors the run in that we ride in town.  As we drove the course a few times in the days leading up to Sunday, we broke the course down into segments; 14-miles in town, 40 on the highway (a few hills here and there) and repeat.  

The first few miles were really uneventful (a good thing).  Being focused on keeping a low heart rate (to make it through 112 miles and then a marathon, I would need to keep a maximum HR of 156 on the steepest sections), high cadence and make sure to drink a lot of fluid.  Mile 4 I felt strange…something didn’t seem right.  I looked down only to realize I didn’t put my bib shorts on correctly and had the straps hanging down.  Knowing this would bother me, I pulled over to the side and basically got undressed to fix it. The first few miles went by pretty quickly and while I am passed often (guess my swim was good if all of these folks are now passing me) my focus remains on my race and not anyone else’s). 

In and out of town we go and onto the 95 Highway for the next 40-miles.  As I approached the highway, I saw some of the professional men heading back to their second loop (lucky bastards).  Driving the course helped to understand when we’d face the various climbs during the day (the first one (a 3+ mile one) would come at about mile 18).  I also knew that the course was harder on the front with more downhill sections on the way back into town (again, this was going to be repeated on the second loop). 

Looking up, I saw the first hill quickly approaching and prepared to settle in for a climb.   The course said it was a 6% grade, but it felt steeper and longer as we kept going up and up.  Keeping a max 156 max HR required me to know when to push my pace while keeping nutrition in check.   Up with hill we went…HR under control, good cadence, check…I told myself to keep pressing as I passed a few fellow competitors who were not so cautious and blew up early.  Each pedal stroke took me closer to the top and the opportunity to recover.

One crucial aspect of any IM is nutrition.  The QT2 plan I followed called for at least 10 24-oz bottles during the bike as well as 7 PowerBar gels, two PowerBars, and lots of salt tablets.  My friend Brad Strater a QT2 coach (and a bad ass, Kona qualifier) preached drinking early and often which is exactly what I did.  At the first aid station (around mile 10), and everyone thereafter, I replenished some of the supply and made my way onto the course.  Figuring out how to go to the bathroom on the bike is an art.  It is something that I learned how to do and then forgot.  This meant hitting the porta potty’s at the various aid stations and avoiding any discomfort on the bike.  Hey, I am not winning this thing, so might as well be comfortable! 

As we continued on the highway, each mile ticked by one by one.  One reason we drove the course prior to the race was to make note of certain “landmarks” to help identify where we were.  One I picked out was a neon casino sign (think slot machines) signaling 4-miles until the turn-around (those who know my love for Vegas and gambling would appreciate this).  After passing the first turn around, I saw Rob approaching in the opposite direction.  Knowing he would soon catch up to me was nice as that would allow us to ride together for about 10 miles when I told him to take off and ride his race. 

Throughout the ride, I never let myself get into the dark (negative) place and just stayed focused.  This allowed me to temper my ride and pass a few other people as we made our way back into town and onto the second loop.  Past the swim start and up a small hill, I saw the posse waved and pressed on.   

About mile 63, we had the chance to get into our bike special needs bags.  When I pulled in (another pit stop), I asked one of the amazing volunteers for my special needs bag (which contained an extra water bottle, some nutrition and some extra tire tubes in case).  After a quick stop, I got back on the bike and pressed on.   Mile 70-77 were a little bit of a blur, but do remember seeing everyone again before heading to the highway for my last 40 miles.   But first the big hill….again.

I rode conservatively in the first loop and rode it in about four hours (to compare a professional finishes the bike in about 4:30, but hey this is their job!).  But for me to be able to get off the bike in less than 8 hours would mean that I needed to press a bit more on the second loop which is exactly what I did.  After the hill crested, I started to pick off more people (even playing cat and mouse with a small group of competitors; people who were not as conservative as I was on the first loop and were burning out).   

The one benefit of being in the back of a race is that people are nice and actually talk to you.  I had many, albeit, short conversations with folks on the bike ride (mostly complaining about the endless hills; why did it seem like there were more of them on this loop than the first one).  Those who have done an IM told me at some point you need to listen to your body and abandon your race nutrition plan.  I hit that point around mile 85 when I was sick of PowerBar Perform and just started to drink water whenever I needed to.  This helped…a lot.

Another rest room break (and a chance to stretch my legs), my lovely casino sign came into view which meant I was in the home stretch.  Miles 90-95 flew by as did miles 95-100.  12 miles to go…2 loops of Central Park and then I am off the bike…Each mile was a mile closer to home…Ah the lake…more people I could pass…more small conversations…the exit ramp from the highway…the transition area all came into view during the last 25 mins of the ride.   

Heading back to transition, I got my run clothing bag and did a quick calculation despite not knowing the time of my race still.  114.2 miles down…26.42 to go.  I got this.  Walking back to the changing tent, I shed my bike clothing, started to get dressed for the run and regrouped.  Making the conscious decision to keep my compression calf guards on (perhaps a tactical error), I headed out onto the last leg before I was able to be called an Ironman. 

The run…and the walk…

I would love to say the run was blissful.  Part of it was. But most of it wasn’t.  Like the bike, prior to the race, I broke the run down into sections.  Town, the area near the lake, the turn-around and back again.  I headed out onto the run still not knowing my swim time, but knowing the bike was about 7:45 with roughly 25 mins of transition times.  Guessing my swim was under 1:20 (the worst case of my range Earl and I laid out), I was going to be an Ironman today.  Up a small hill, I once again saw the clan.  Earl told me to stop and give high fives to my family as well as anyone who offered, I was taking in the energy from the crowd.  I was on my journey to the finish line.  I decided to soak up the experience of the IM.   

Earl and I discussed doing a 5:1 scenario (5 mins run, 1 min walk) for the first 30+ mins of the race and walking the back end of the aid stations.  Right before Mile 1, I saw Christine (filming our run) telling me how well I looked (sure!) and that those in Canada (racing) were cheering me on.  She told me how good my swim was (1:11) -- shit that was faster than even Earl and I planned.  Excellent.  That gave me motivation to run and run I did.  The first part of the run course is entirely in the neighborhood surround the lake.  So many people were out there supporting us, it was such a high.  Past mile 2 and onto the lonely section of an 8-mile out and back.  At mile 3, my left foot started to tingle – like it did at a race in May when I pulled out.  No way was I going to let this derail my IM experience…If I had to walk the marathon I was going to be an Ironman today. 

Walking to the side of the road, I took off my shoes trying to relieve the pain.  Nothing helped.  I pulled off the compression calf guards tucking them into my pockets and then my shoes.  With my shoes off, the pressure eased a bit, but started to throb again when they were back on.  Trying everything, I took the compression calf guards off, moved the timing chip from my ankle to my wrist and started to move forward again…one mile at a time.  Unfortunately the sensation would not wane.  I decided to try untying my shoes and running with untied laces.  Finally relief.  Ok, I am moving, Yes my sneakers are untied (and many fellow competitors said hey guy in CAF (I was wearing CAF clothing if you could not guess) your laces are united – like I did not know thatJ), but I was running and walking.   

Taking each mile one at a time, knowing that I am out here for CAF funded athletes and to honor my father, I started to enjoy the experience.  The first 8 miles took forever to pass, but then I started to approach town again and started to use the energy from the crowds.  Back into town, I got to the special needs run area and changed socks.  I was Rob walking with Christine.  Running again, I saw the clan again, ran down the hill, back up the hill and back to where Christine was standing.  She said Rob was only about 10 mins ahead of me at this point.  Ok, I got this. 

At this point if walking was the way to this finish line, I would power walk.   At times my walk was faster than some people running.  So I started to play a game with people.  Picking them off slowly.  Like the bike, the people at the back of the race are very friendly and very supportive of each other.  Hell, we were all going to the final place and knew we were all going to finish this thing in under 17 hours (the cut off).   

Speaking to a few people, they commented how fast my walk was – “I am from New York, that is what we do (walk fast)” was my constant retort. One guy and I (think he was from Alabama, or somewhere around there – all of those states are alike to me) kept traded places – he would run while I was walking and I would scoot past him.    

After being on the course for probably 13+ hour, the thought of any sweet like Ironman Perform, or a gel was more than my body could handle. Opting to try broth (salt) seemed to work and then cola (they can’t serve a brand name on the course as neither Pepsi nor Coke are sponsors) went down well.   Keeping moving forward one mile at a time was my mantra. 

Approaching mile 20…6.2 (or 10k to go).  Past the turn around, I was heading home…heading to the finish line and being called an Ironman.  Seeing mile 23 – knowing there was less than 5k to go, put a smile on my face.  That alone made me run more than walk…and pick up my walking pace.

Yes the sun was down (and I had not really mentally planned to be on the course in the dark), but as each mile past, I was getting closer to home.  Walking through the neighborhoods, and past the lake, the smell of the finish line crept into my psyche. 

As I approached the last small hill before the 8-block finish line. I took a moment to pause and reflect (yes this may have cost me more time, but I was only going to have one first IM finish and wanted to be present).  On the corner before Sherman Avenue, I asked a spectator to help put my timing chip back onto my ankle and then basically took off. 

The Finish Line

The finish of IM CDA was amazing.  Basically 8 blocks of downhill.  Suddenly there was no pain.  No tingling in my feet….just glory as I past a fee fellow athletes and counting down the blocks and seconds….Total thumbs up and a hug smile on my face…I was going to be an Ironman.  

There is nothing like a finish to an IM (especially our first one).  It is a party.  You start to hear the cheers of spectators from two-blocks away.  The feeling when you hit the blue carpet is unlike any other race finish I have done. The smile on my face as I entered the finish line shoot was as wide as the lake and  my hands flew straight up into the air as I flew by and heard Mike Riley – the voice of Ironman – call my name.  I did not know my time…I did not care!  I was an Ironman!  

Passing the chute,  two volunteers immediately "caught" me and helped me to get my bearings.  After handing my my medal, finisher’s tee shirt and hat, they helped me walk to the photo line.  Rob was waiting for me there and we gave each other a fist bump.  We both made it.  After the photos I saw the crew and gave mom and Alexa a huge hug… I did it.  And I did it as well as I could on that day.   

Reflection…

I am an Ironman.  10 months of dedicated training…to putting a lot of my life on hold…to focus on one single day that was finally here.   Six years after doing my first triathlon I am an Ironman.  I am one of less than 1% of the population who can claim that.  Wow.

I completed the journey I set out to do and along the way helped to raise money for CAF.  I think my father would be proud.  Not sure if there is another IM in me, but for now, despite the pain, I am beyond psyched.  

Taper Time...Not as easy as it looks

For the past week+, I basically have been tapering my workouts.  When I first heard of the IM Taper, I thought it was going to be a lot of massages, yoga classes and basically chilling...After all, the work was done and the hay was in the barn, right?  

Not so much...

The past ten days have not been anywhere near the intensity that I was used to over the past 40+-weeks, I will give you that.  The workouts have been shorter indeed, but will of bursts (especially during run workouts).  What has been most interesting is how antsy I am feeling.  My body is used to (and I dare say is craving)  longer workouts. I am not used to only swimming 2,400 yards at a time, or only biking 24-miles (in Central Park).  

Unfortunately all of my "free" time has allowed me to think more.  Think about the next five days...to have some second thoughts.  Am I prepared?  Did I train enough?  What will the day really be like?  The curse of the Taper...the time to think and doubt.  

Nope, I will not allow the Taper to win, just like I did not let the cruel, cold winter of 2012/13 win.  

I am ready...I am prepared...I trust my training.

Almost game time...

Almost Game Time...Ironman Journey is close

Over 40-weeks ago, I started my journey to be an Ironman.  The big dance is almost here.  I have moved from the fear of the unknown to the excitement of finally getting to the start line. 

Over the past ten months, I have pushed myself beyond what I thought I was capable of doing.  Those who have done this distance know what it takes to get to the start line.  Ironman training is exhausting – both physically and mentally.  And there have been times when doubts crept in and another day running in the wet, cold, rain, or another four hour trainer ride was enough to want to say “uncle.”  But whenever these dark moments hit, I kept reminding myself that this was race more about me, was more than one-day and more than just being called an Ironman.  My journey has had a greater purpose.  I am doing it to honor my father and support the Challenged Athletes Foundation (CAF) by raising $10,000 so that CAF can continue to support athletes with a physical disability – especially those wounded while in uniform -- pursue active lifestyles through physical fitness.  To date, friends and family have helped me raise over $7,800. 

Before I travel to Coeur d'Alene on June 19^th, I hope to have as much of my fundraising goal met.  In as such, I am once again asking for your support.  My father knew how much CAF meant to and has given me. This is just about paying it forward.  Please click here to make a donation. 

While any amount is appreciated, many people have “sponsored” a portion of the Ironman course -- $112 (miles on the bike), $26.2 (miles I will need to run), $140.6 (entire distance in miles of the race) or $1,020 (the total time, in minutes, I have to complete the race – that is 17 hours for those doing quick math).   

Your contribution will go a long way in changing someone’s life.  Thanks in advance for your support. 

Swim start if IM CDA.  See you in three weeks!

The Hay is in the Barn...number 1982 reporting for duty

Ironman CDA is about three weeks away.  The race seemed so far away 40-weeks ago when I first started to train.  But now as I enter the final stretch, the reality is dawning on me.  Three weeks from this Sunday, I will be standing on the beach waiting to start my 140.6 mile journey.  Crazy right!

Looking back, I can only think in numbers.  How many hours did I log in the pool, on the bike and running in Central Park, Riverside Park, East River drive to prepare for the day.   How many dinner with friends did I miss as I had to get up early (or go to bed early)?  How much have I spent on nutrition, bike supplies, new clothing?  How many pairs of sneakers did I go through? How much weight have I lost?  Yet two numbers stand out right now...1982, my bib number and $7,500 - how much I have raised, thus far, for Challenged Athletes Foundation (CAF).

As you recall, my IM journey has always had a greater purpose than being called an Ironman.  This race is abut two things.  Honoring my father and raising as much as I can for CAF.  Over the past 40-weeks whenever I thought doing an IM was crazy (several times), or when doubts about my ability crept in (many times), these two factors kept driving my forward.  

So as I enter my the taper stage of my training, I have done the work, and now hope to enjoy as someone said to me was like "graduation day."  

More from CDA soon...

San Diego Training Camp – Report

After a thrilling, but exhausting weekend as title sponsor of the Accenture CA 70.3 race (a/k/a Oceanside), I was ready to spend some quality time training for IM CDA.  Earl laid out a brief, but aggressive, plan calling for three days of riding and two days of running (and a swim if I could manage it). 

Sunday morning I slept in (6:30am) and headed south to Del Mar where I was crashing with my friend Roy Perkins.  Before this “camp” my only outside ride had been the 56-miles during the PR 70.3 so wasn’t sure how I could fare, but was excited for the challenge.  After helping put my bike together, Roy and I did a quick ride (20 miles) before eating some California-inspired Mexican food (and a margarita). 

Busting the 100-mile cherry

Monday was my “epic” day of cycling which called for seven and a half hours of riding over 100-miles.  Let’s see how I handle this one.  Roy and I headed out for a warm-up before meeting up with Kristine Entwistle (a friend who also works at CAF), who mapped out an 80-mile loop taking us from the coast to the mountains back to the coast.   In addition to getting a lot of saddle time, the ride was another test in my nutrition plan.  Loaded with more PowerBar gels, PowerBar bars, and PowerBar perform (in powder as my bike can only hold  two bottles and knew I needed to drink at least 8+ bottles) than I could imagine, we hit the road.  Our ride had us on open roads consisting of some flats, rollers, some steep inclines and nice descends.  As we were riding with open traffic, we had to wait for traffic lights.  While it was nice to rest our legs at time, some lights felt like they were taking forever to turn.

The morning weather was chilly, so started out with a short sleeve bike jersey, bib shorts, a vest and a borrowed pair of arm warmers from Roy.  Midday, when the sun started to come out more, I shed the arm warmers – and have slightly sun burned arms to show for it. 

The first two hours of the ride kept me in a pure endurance zone (I had a maximum power which I could not exceed).  I set the Garmin bike computer to “normalized” power (which calculates the power but includes variables such as wind, accelerations, uphills, downhills, etc.).  My legs responded well to the inclines – not burning too much – but thanked me on the downhills.  Drinking and eating on schedule, I was totally in focus as the miles kept adding up.  Mentally I was “in the ride” and did not hit any dark spots.  It was nice chatting and catching up with Kristine…She has done the “old CDA course” and gave me an Ironman 101 reality lesson (her one advice, have a plan b when the thought of another gel on the bike or ride makes your skin crawl).   

The three hour mark called for another hour of Tempo watts (up to, but not above 165).  Luckily, these also came on the rollers and some steep inclines too.  Kristine and I stopped to refuel at an interesting corner store near a trailer park before hitting the infamous Circle R Drive (apparently a pretty well-known and challenging climb).  As we approached the climb, I was focused on my power #s, cadence and heart rate.  Kristine told me where we should meet up and I went off.  At one point I could hear her saying you just climbed a 6% grade.  Holy shit here comes another hill…followed by another one…While the climbs were indeed hard and my quads started to burn, I was keeping in my zones and looking at the amazing scenery.  Finally at the top, Kristine and I regrouped and headed back down the hills.  Still in my tempo zone, I was focused on the switch-backs and rollers on the last part of the loop.  When we reached the bottom, I told Kristine “that was kinda fun” – and she commended me on tackling Circle R (felt as if I earned some creds!).

  

Hours four and five (120 mins) called for another endurance session.  As we approached the coast, the winds started to pick-up big time.  Kristine and I traded blocking the winds over the next 7 miles as we headed towards Oceanside.  Keeping in aero position and an easy gear, I kept pushing through the wind, but the pushing resulted in more burning to the quads.  I kept readjusting and pedaling focused on the mile markers and hoping for a tailwind at some point.  Finally we hit the Oceanside – where I just left two days ago.  Talk about full circle! 

After another refuel stop and bathroom break, Kristine and I were off.  The next hour + went by pretty quickly (maybe I just lost a sense of time), but was chugging along…chatting with Kristine and watching the coast, the ocean/waves and eating/drinking on cue.  Through Oceanside we approached Carlsbad when I had to start my next session – a mix of tempo and endurance (4 mins tempo followed by 10 of endurance) over the next hour +. 

Taking off, Kristine said she would meet up with me on the recover/endurance section.  I was in the zone and didn’t feel any pain, but now had to contend with side-winds (where are my tailwinds)!  While powerful gusts, I stayed in the aero position pedaling down Highway 101 on uphills, downhills and on flats.   Past Carlsbad and into Escondido, the winds did ease up as we made the last approach before Kristine veered off (her ride done, mine with a tad more to go). 

Now without any company, and the delicious smell from various restaurants off the 101 hitting my nose (gels don’t smell or taste like a good meal), the next 45 mins had me going back down to Torrey Pines, back up to Escondido, back again to Torrey Pines (you get the idea).  My mind kept wandering, the pain in the quads and now my far right toes (something I never experienced before) increasing, I was fending off the dark zones.  Riding along, I kept telling myself mind over matter.  Just a few more miles to go. 

Looking down, I saw 99 miles…the end almost there.  The last 2 miles took forever.  Every tenth of a mile could not come fast enough.  99.5 then 99.6 then 99.9.  Down the final stretch and I could get off the bike.  Past the light, up the hill leading to Roy’s driveway (like I needed another hill), I open the garage door, take off my shoes, put on my running shoes and jog off (did I forget to mention I had to run 20-mins off the bike!).

The first few steps were a total struggle.  My legs were trying to fire, but the pain was great.  I opted to stop, take a breather and try and start again.  Heart rate in check, I started to run (well jog really).  After 5 mins, I had a strange pain in my back, so stopped and walked for second.  “Focus,” I said to myself.  Running for another 20-mins (well actually 22 mins) and was relieved when I stopped in front of a pizza place.  I didn’t care how cold and crappy the slice, I downed it and walked back to Roy’s place.  Compression socks on, I answered work emails until dinner time.

My first century ride and first 7+ hour ride in the books.  Wow that hurt. 

A Tuesday’s struggle ride

My ride for the next day called for 75-miles (25 warm-up/25 tempo/25 endurance) followed by a 2-hour run.  As I was riding solo again, I opted to stay on the 101 (Roy gave me a route out to Oceanside which he thought was about 20 miles).  Knowing I had to double back at least once, I tried to memorize the road.  Earl warned me that if I felt real pain I should stop immediately and if needed should cut my run to an hour.  Little did I know how hard a back-to-back volume ride would is. 

Starting out up a hill from Roy’s towards Del Mar, I immediately felt the ride from Monday, but was focusing on being in the moment and keeping to the plan.  The first 10 miles went by pretty slowly, but I made my way north on the 101 checking out sights.  Keeping to the right HR/watts combo I kept the checking miles.  Keeping in aero, I was thankful the wind wasn’t as intense as it was the day before.

Past Del Mar, Solana Beach, Escondido, Carlsbad and into Oceanside.  22 miles done.  Back to the start of the Oceanside race once more.  Quick calculation – the ride back to Roy’s would be 44 miles, so had to make up ~ 30 miles somewhere.  Figure if I did 18 miles down and back, that would get me pretty close.  Let’s go.   

A quick bathroom break and a refueling stop at a nearby deli, I headed back south on the 101, this time in a Tempo race (I cut the remaining 3 miles of the warm up off). In reverse order, Oceanside, Carlsbad, Escondido, Solana Beach, Del Mar.  Some side winds, but mostly decent conditions.  Focusing on keeping my watts and not the pain in my legs, I made it back down hitting 40 miles before returning back up north.  Focusing on eating/drinking/taking in calories (practice makes perfect).  Suddenly my Garmin watch, which I needed for the run off the bike, died (thought I had charged it the night before).  An omen?   I still had my bike computer (fully charged) and would figure out something for the run. 

The stretch from mile 40-55 was really tough mentally and physically.  I kept playing mind games with myself to keep in the moment, but at times that was hard considering the pain.  Will I have legs to run?  Right outside Oceanside, I hit a 7-11 to refuel again, hit a porta-potty and headed home.  As tough as miles 40-55 were, the last section felt like I was watching paint dry, but with someone pounding on my legs (and my two right toes again).  The wheels of the bus felt like they were coming off, but I tried to keep in the moment.   I kept telling myself, “get back to Roy’s, re-pack the bike and then run an hour maybe (definitely not two).”   I was focusing as much as I could hold on (Up and down 101 (the hills didn’t feel as bad the first few times I rode this route, but now, wow!).  Despite the intense pain, my HR and watts were in check (I was in the endurance zone). 

Heading back to Escondido, I knew I had only a few more miles to go.  One more hill I told my legs…one more set of lights…one more burst.  Finally cresting the last hill, I had a downhill leading to Torrey Pines and the turn off to Roy’s complex.  Up the hill of his drive way, I stopped, opened the garage door and breathed a sense of relief.  Relief I was off the bike and finished with another 5 hour ride.  However, I knew my legs simply did not have it in me for a run today. 

I emailed Earl with headline “Failure” and explained what happened.  Could it have been three rides in three days and no runs/swims in between?  Did I push too hard?  Am I not in the right endurance shape yet (yes I have 11 weeks until CDA, but that is only 11 weeks!).  Earl immediately responded that the camp was no failure, but a major biking breakthrough.  Yea, but…you know Earl you’re right.  I accomplished a lot, rode for over 13 hours and close to 200 miles over three days on roads that I am not used to. 

So to celebrate, I had an In-n-Out Burger (while in CA….)

Accenture IM California 70.3

This past weekend my company, Accenture, served as the title sponsor of the half Ironman (70.3) in Oceanside, CA.  It was an incredible experience in many ways.  In addition to having 19 employees and clients racing under our "colors" the Challenged Athletes Foundation was the official charity of the race.

While the days were long (I have always maintained supporting a race is longer than doing it), I  also had the cool experience of holding the finish line tape for the men's winner (Andy Potts edging out Jesse Thomas by ~ 10 seconds to claim his 5th win).

The weekend was full of meeting new people, having a great time spectating and cheering on racers, but also supporting many of my CAF friends.  It was a crossroads of work, friends and my triathlon passion.

Check out Facebook for photos from the race.

Puerto Rico, you lovely Island, full of tropical breezes and HILLS! Report from Puerto Rico 70.3 – My IM CDA warm up

Since embarking on my IM journey in October, my focus has been trying to improve on my weakness – biking – while not neglecting both my swimming (one of my stronger legs) and running (something I actually enjoy).   Over the past six months, training has not been that bad yet, but if you ask Coach Earl Walton, the “fun” has only begun.  Yea…right.

When reviewing my race calendar, Earl and I were looking for a half-iron distance race during the late base stage of my training.  Having done some early season races in the past (Nola, South Beach), I was game for something new and different. Looking at IM and Rev3 races, there was only one that actually fit into my work and training schedules – Puerto Rico 70.3.  But March 17^th?  Wow that is an early season race.   While I don’t really mind racing alone, traveling alone is another story – who will cheer for me at the finish line (and have a post-race drink with me)?  Thankfully my friend (and now best race Sherpa) Randi Gordon stepped up to the plate (she rationalized the trip as a weekend away from the NYC cold – and indeed it was). 

Side bar…Back to training for a sec….

While I have had some rough run workouts (especially in the cold, dark days of winter), I keep telling myself, I am not just doing an IM for me, I am doing it to honor my father and raise funds for Challenged Athletes everywhere.   The training is tough (just like the race itself) , but I have put in the work thus far and now it was time to see how it is starting to pay off.  

Back to the race…

I heard a lot about the PR 70.3 race – mostly how nice the swim was (cool), how well supported the ride was (even better), but how tough the run was (how bad could it really be?  O h bad!).   For those who know my spreadsheet-loving, crazy advance-planning pre-race regiment, you might be surprised that going into PR 70.3, I was completely calm; calm to the point that Randi joked she had no idea who I was when I told her the only reservation I made was for the post-race dinner. 

I was also using the race to test my new race nutrition plan thanks to QT2 Systems and Jaime Windrow.  The plan is pretty intensive, exact, but heard it works.  Hey, if it’ll get me through 140.6 miles, I am game – including giving u my beloved morning coffee (yes I have been coffee and mostly caffeine free since January)!

For those w/ A.D.D and like the bottom line…I was pleased with the race…the swim and ride were great, but the run was “what the f*ck was that!”  

And for those with an attention-span…

Randi and I flew to PR on Friday to take advantage of being away as much as possible.  Landing, we got to the hotel, registered for the race, ran into friend Dave Ragsdale (who was announcing), put my bike together, Randi went for a run and I tried to ride the run course.   I got a little misdirected in Old San Juan and wound up riding part of the course which I didn’t think was that bad (oh I was wrong).  Friday night we had a relaxing dinner at a local restaurant – this was big “carbo load” dinner.

The day before the race (Sat) was all about following the QT2 plan, doing last min race prep.  We woke up, did a quick run (where I proceeded to not see a curb cut and fell on my knee – not a huge scrape, but ouch), and head to breakfast. 

It’s all about the food…

Now I like breakfast.  It’s an important meal.  But I typically never have eggs, potatoes, toast, and pancakes in one sitting.  But that is what the plan said so I ate it.  After some digestion, we made our way to the swim start for a practice swim (just to the first turnaround) before heading back to the hotel to yes, eat again (this time a chix wrap – plain with a little mustard and my second of three bags of pretzels).  My former colleague and friend Tillie Castellano, who retired in PR a few years ago, came by to visit us at the hotel and laughed at how much I had to eat and drink (there goes another bag of pretzels). 

At this point Tillie and Randi (who ran most of the run course the day before) explained what I had in store for me on the run.  Tillie calls it the “hell hill” that leads to her son, Marc’s, house at the top of it (Tillie said she would be waiting outside Marc’s house waiting for me on the run).  Randi just laughed….After more water, PowerBar Perform drinks and a PowerBar, I had to lie down for a bit….before dinner (thankfully Randi took matters into her own hands and made a dinner reso for yes, 6:15pm – just following the plan).  While Randi had an amazing looking meal, I had, you guessed it, 4 oz of grilled chicken and 1 cup of pasta (basically the most basic thing on the menu and I could only eat ½ of it).   Off to bed at 8:15pm…

Race day

3:15am alarm buzzes.  Why 3:15am when the race doesn’t start until 7:00 (and my wave doesn’t go off until 7:28)?  Well because I had to eat 2 ½ cups of apple sauce, whey protein, a sports drink, and a banana in enough time to digest.  Now most of us eat, maybe ½ cup of apple sauce at one time.  Trying to get down that much made me, well, spit up just like a baby does (but I had no one to burp me).  But at least I watch to sun rise while getting my pre-race meal down.

Restless (there is just so much social media you can do before 6:00am); I went to transition to set up my area before heading to the swim start.   I looked for AGTC teammate Sonia Cordero, but could not find her in transition.   So I just made my way to the swim start and waited…and waited. 

My wave – men’s 40-44 #2 (wave #10) started to line up.  I ate my late Perform Gel and visualized the race.  Earl and I spoke the day before and decided I would just go and test things out.  No goal…just go.  So when it was my time to start, I did just that…I went.

The race was an in-water start.  Waiting on the edge where I could stand until 30-seconds before our horn went off, I was totally calm.  At 30-seconds, I swam my way to the front and we’re off.  Aggressive at the start, I was a little off my sighting, but after some corrections, I kept swimming.  Past a few people in the waves ahead of my (not getting passed that much), the water was clear and I felt good.  Buoy to buoy I went until the turn around.  The course was like a long “U” but on its side – most of it in a protected bay off the ocean.  I was going strong until about ¾ through when we hit the waves from the open sea started to rear its ugly head.  I was tossed a bit, and got off course with the current, but straightened myself out and headed to shore.   Getting helped up the ramp out of the water, I quickly glanced at my time – 36 mins and some sec…not bad for a 1.2 mile ocean swim without a wetsuit.  The run to T1 (transition 1) was about ¼ mile on asphalt.  I started to jog, saw Randi (who was about to go out for another run), got into transition, got Malibu (my bike) and myself ready for our ride and went out. 

Time to get onto my bike

The ride was really pleasant.  Again Earl and I decided to focus the ride on maintaining a decent power (I plopped down a pretty penny and bought myself a PowerMeter – a cool new toy for those who don’t know what it is, it basically measures how much power I am putting out through my pedal strokes.  I have certain watts I know I can maintain for a long period of time and still have “legs” for the run).  The course was specular.  Right along the ocean, I was cruising, keeping to my numbers.  Yes I was passed – often – but I still passed a large number of people (I always said good morning to every pretty girl I passed – most smiled and said thanks). 

This being my first outside ride since October 2012 (during CAF’s SDTC Race Weekend), I wasn’t sure what to expect on the 56-mile route.  Especially troubling was that the race was sponsored by Gatorade and not PowerBar (which I have been training with) so while I had two bottles of the formula I knew, Jaime and I discussed using Gatorade and seeing what happened (flash forward, yea that wasn’t planned).   During the ride I am sticking to my nutrition plan – making sure to drink when I can, eating PowerBars and PowerBar gels on schedule and taking in salt.  I made the first turn-around (the ride was basically two loops) and checked in on my power and HR (all good) and looked up a saw a large rain cloud and thought I wonder when it’s going to rain.  NOW was the answer.  The sudden the sky opened up and buckets (literally) came down on us.  Immediately, I became a tad more conservative (no repeats of old bike spills), watching out for white lines to avoid a crash/fall.  Yet, as quickly as the rain started, it was gone.  Sunny sky, but yet wet pavement means riding conservatively and not crashing.  At the second (of three) turn around, I started to pass more people, keeping in areo position and staying in the moment.  Then the finally turn around and I am heading home. 

While I didn’t have a time goal, I thought it would be great if I could break the three-hour mark (a PR for me).  Then the winds started to pick up even more and at times I was getting blown all around the road.  While not as bad as they were in Nola, they were bad.  But I was more prepared this time around and kept my focus….approaching the last 10 miles, I look up and see NYC on someone’s ass…that must be Sonia.  Hey Sonia I yell as I pass her.   Making my way on the last stretch of highway, I suddenly become concerned as I see no other bikers around me.  Did I miss a turn?  Nope all good. There are some police men I am heading into T2. 

Jumping off the bike, I trot into transition, check my time 3:03 (cool all things, rain, etc.) considered and prepare for my run.  Not having a second pair of socks in transition, I need to run on semi wet socks (from the rain).  I ask a pro who just finished how bad it is and he comments, just drink a lot…and often.  It then dawned on me that I didn’t pee once on the bike…didn’t even feel as if I needed to.  Despite drinking over four bottles, I was still dehydrated.  Oh boy, I am f*cked.  Ok, let me try and see what happens. 

The hot and hilly run…

Before heading to the run, I got into the banana boat tent and ask the girls spraying lotion to down me in whatever they had.  Face, head, arms, back, legs…all good.  I am off. 

Immediately I see Randi who walks/runs me over the first bridge/hill.  As I head out on the run, I see professional women Rinny Carfrae finishing (she looks like she had a hard day out there) and hope the wheels do not come off too quicky.  I have my plan (eat a Block every 2 miles, drink at every aid station and keep going. 

Not knowing the full course, I opted to use the first loop (there are two) to see how bad this run course really is.  One hill, well that sucked…ok some flats….a little downhill, good.  Usually when I start to run, my HR jumps up for a bit and then settles in.  For some reason this isn't happening today. Only time wll tell what this means for my race.

  

As I turn a corner I see it…the “hell hill” both Tillie and Randi described.  Yes indeed it’s hell.  Straight up.  No way can anyone human actually run this…so I do a fast walk.  Finally cresting, I start to run again until I see one more hill.  Looking to my left I look for Tillie and her son Marc.  I go over to say hi (a nice high five and a hug) and get a nice dose of water sprayed on me by Marc’s son (this would be one of my un-doings).  Despite the hills, this is one beautiful run course. 

Past the old fort, we run on historic cobblestone streets down to the edge of the fort (what goes down will need to come back up).  At the first turn-around (prob mile 3), I am feeling the heat and some burning on my feet (never had that before), but I go on.  Tracing my way back to the start, I pass Tillie again, get another dose of water on me and head down the hell hill (going down isn’t much easier).  The miles keep clicking away and despite the soreness, the heat and the need to run/walk, I never get into the dark place where I want to quit. 

At the turnaround I see Randi again who tells me how good I look (looks can be deceiving) and how proud everyone at Tailwind Endurance (Earl’s studio) is of me (that gives me more energy to go).  Only 6.5 miles to go.  I am running more now…running up hills, trying to stay focused.  Once again, I walk up hell hill and think, only 4.5 miles to go.  I see Marc again, who took my picture running up the hill (below).  Passing the old fort again, the pain in my feet is intense.  I know the blisters under my feet must be roaring in full force (I cannot...will not let that get me down).  Onto the edge of the fort to the turn around, I am on my way home.  Passing Tillie and family again, I tell them I cannot stop…need to get this done.  

Down the big hill again.2 miles to go. 
Then wow…the heat, blisters, dehydration all come on at once.  I start to walk.  I keep telling myself to run walk the last two miles…it’s only two miles….I walk in the shade to get away from the heat…I run in the street and get inspired by a 60-year old man (his age was on his calf) who is running and not giving up either.   One mile…half a mile.  Ok last aid station…last bridge up…I crest the top, and head home.  I see Randi near the finish line chute and she runs me home.   Dave announces my name (I still get a kick out of that) and I am done.  Time for a beer and burger and some celebrating with Randi and Sonia.

So the good:  no demons…no dark zones.  Positive thoughts.  Great swim, Pr on the bike.  An early season race…lots to improve, but all around a stellar early season race.

The bad:  a slow half-marathon.  Dehydration.  Not having an extra pair of socks in Transition.  All things to improve.

Thanks for reading this.  As mentioned at the onset, I am raising money for CAF.  If you want to support my efforts,  please click here to make a donation.

My biggest journey….An Ironman with a purpose

My biggest journey….An Ironman with a purpose

When I first started doing triathlons in 2007, my focus was finishing with a smile.  Never in my wildest imagination did the idea of an Ironman cross my mind.  I liked doing shorter races (sprint and Olympic distances) …then did some half iron distances and enjoyed it.  I was challenged, and satisfied.  Triathlons offered me a new network of friends,  helped me to become a certified triathlon coach and presented me an opportunity to become very active with the Challenged Athletes Foundation (CAF).  Why in the world would I want/need to put myself though 10-months of training? An Ironman was for real triathletes…for strong, skinny people…for people who were basically not me.  But things change.

Life throws you curve balls.  My curve ball came in August 2011 when my father passed away somewhat suddenly.  In truth, my world was shaken – not knowing what side was up and what was down.  Besides my family, the only thing that kept me grounded was my training.  Many of my father’s friends told me how proud he was of my athletic accomplishments.  I was never into high school or collegiate sports, so the idea of my father calling me a “jock” (his words) was pretty funny to me.  Hearing how much my father admired my racing “career” pushed me to make the decision to push myself further and harder than even I could imagine. Now, close to six years after I first crossed my first triathlon finish line, on June 23, 2013, I will be participating in an Ironman. 

I am participating to honor my father and to give back to others.   I have a great coach and a solid support network (many who are making the trip to Coeur d’Alene Idaho with me).  And I am trying to raise $10,000 for CAF and continue to support athletes with a physical disability – especially those wounded while in uniform -- pursue active lifestyles through physical fitness.’

I am asking for your support in making my Ironman even more significant by helping challenged athletes achieve their goals.  Your financial support will go a long way in changing someone’s life.

Please click here to make a donation.  While any amount is appreciated, you can also “sponsor” a portion of my race which corresponds to part of the Ironman course.  For example, your donation can be $112 (miles on the bike), $26.2 (miles I will need to run), $140.6 (entire distance in miles of the race), $1,020 (the total time, in minutes, I have to complete the race – that is 17 hours for those doing quick math) or any increment thereof. 

Visit the blog which will be updated during certain milestones between now and race day.

Thanks in advance for your support.