Dan's Tri Page

 

We were planning on a weeks vacation up in the Santa Barbara area. It's a place we go often to get away, eat great food and do a little wine tasting. If you saw the movie Sideways (not a movie I personally would recommend, regardless of the hoopla) you'll know the area I'm writing about. We have been traveling here for almost our entire 21 years of marriage and know this place like the backs of our hands. We were eating at the Hitching Post before it was "hip" and following Andrew Murray's oenological genesis at the ripe old age of 19. So, when I think of Santa Barbara the last thing on my mind is racing.

 

Several weeks back, however, when I was having one of my casual swim workouts trying to decide what I would do for the rest of the year, my friend and training partner, Lori Travis, suggested that I race Santa Barbara at the end of the month... Well, it just so happened to be that we would be there at the same time as the race so... without further ado I registered and eagerly awaited the date... What I didn't do was train. That's right, ever since Ironman CdA I've been in "off-season" mode. You know, maybe a swim here, a run on Friday... do my best to catch the group ride on Saturday; from my house, knocking off 12 miles of the ride, just because I can sleep in a little longer. So, when it came time to actually do the race, I thought, "Hmm, maybe I'm not going to have such an enjoyable day." Even though the Santa Barbara Triathlon, long course is less than a half ironman distance race it's still hilly, technical and an open-ocean swim. Therefore, my expectations were to just go out and have a good time. So, with that; here's the race report!

 

Race Day

 

Get up at 4:50am (oh, I forgot to mention we were camping on Lake Cachuma... in a tent, among other tent campers... who are used to getting up at, oh... 8am) fumble around in the dark putting on my race gear. Rustle Joy out of bed, she can't see well enough to put on makeup and grumbles some acceptable obscenity at me. I unzip the tent door and walk outside with my gear bag. I immediately run into a light pole and knock it over in a thunderous crash... so much for trying to be quiet. We can't make coffee. I feel around for the bananas I put at the top of the cooler the night before and grab my premixed bottle of Cliff Shot. Getting in the car we use the parking lights to guide us out of camp, again doing our best to be courteous. Once over the hill and heading into Santa Barbara I assure Joy I know where there is a Peete's Coffee and we'll stop. After arriving at the beach she asks... "Where's Peete's?" Uhhhh, I gave that look that says without saying it, "Oh, crap!" . She said it was fine and proceeded to drop me off and find a parking place.

 

I quickly found Lori and pumped up her tires, donned my wet suit and headed toward the water for a warm up. Water temps were in the mid 60's and it was a bit rough... they were talking the day before about large south facing swells and tide warnings were posted... but I've seen and swam a lot worse (if I can do Utah, I can do anything). The race started late and Lori was in the first wave and I was in the 6th... we joked about me catching her but it was too far of a head start to make it doable.

 

Swim... I staged at the front and was one of three guys in my wave to hit the water first. In fact I hit it so hard it pushed my left goggle into my eye socket and I couldn't open that eye. Joy said she could track me all the way to the first buoy to make the right turn where five of us came together in a what she described as a fist fight. She was right for some reason we all hit the same line and this just got me mad and out of my rhythm. About half way through the mile swim I began to feel the lack of my regular swim practice back home and fighting the ocean current was taking it's toll. Finally, it came to an end with a not-so-swift run up the beach in a not-so-blazing time of 32 minutes.

 

Bike... I always struggle getting my wetsuit off! This was no exception. I would be fast through T-1 if it weren't for that darn wet suit. However, once on the bike, I'm in my comfort zone. I determined early in the morning that my bike strategy was to go easy since I was doing this race blind (meaning: I've never seen the course before). I was told that it was hilly and steep with technical descents. The last thing I wanted was to spend the rest of the afternoon bandaging road rash. Even at my easy pace I was passing a big number of people and not being past until about mile 5. It was someone in my AG from the Santa Barbara Tri Club. I knew he knew the course and he pushed up the hills. When I repassed him on the short down hill sections I could hear him breathing pretty heavy. I checked my HRM as I breathed normally... 140. Perfect! We played this back and forth through most of the backside of the bike where it was mostly up and down. He actually got pretty far ahead of me at about the halfway spot on the bike and I thought letting one guy get ahead of me wasn't so bad... I was going to stick to my plan. Then at mile 28 of a 35 mile course I caught him again on the last climb, when by him with some authority and never saw him again. Cruising into T-2 I felt pretty good and wondered how my legs would feel coming off the bike. The last brick workout (bike and run) was IMCdA two months prior. But T-2 was a breeze and my legs felt light running out of transition.

 

Run... As I passed the last row of bikes and exited onto the boardwalk I noticed a runner in front of me without a shirt. As I passed I hear, "Is that an Epiphany cap?" I said, "Yeah, are you Rob?" "Yeah!" I turned and hi-fived him and we both said something about having a good run and off I went. I would have like to have chatted but I had a race to do.

      Back story: Epiphany is a winery in Los Olivos, California which produces some pretty darn good wine. Last year I wore an Epiphany    visor during the Ironman World Championships in Kona, Hawaii. You can actually go to the tasting room of this winery and see photos of me in that race. Rob works for Epiphany and I was told he would be racing. I waited for him after I finished however, I didn't see him again because we couldn't stay too long needing to get a shower at Lori's hotel room before checkout.

First mile of the run was all about getting stride. I hit the first mile marker at 7:55... okay. Not great but not so bad either... next mile 7:50, next = 7:48, then 7:45, 7:35... this trend kept until the final mile (mile 10) 7:16 (avg mile pace = 7:34.6) This run felt really good. It has some nice up and down and is beautiful along the beach. It was also a nice morale boost after the last two races where my run was less than memorable. All in all, it was a nice day to be in Santa Barbara...

 

Here are my splits.

3:27:11

Men_45-49

swim

0:32:10

T-1

0:02:37

Bike 1:35:10

T-2

0:01:29

Run 1:15:46     84oa - 7/58ag

 

 

Okay, it has been a couple of days now and I have had a chance to lick my wounds. Unfortunately, the taste left in my mouth is still rather bitter. If you want to only read about the race and skip all the personal stuff; scroll down to the heading Race Day.

 

Joy, Aubrey and I left the desert, Tuesday evening headed off toward Las Vegas as we were told by people who live there that the fastest route to Coeur ‘d Alene was the back roads up through Nevada and Idaho.  Well, maybe it was for them. The goal was to get to CdA Wednesday evening, be ready for a Thursday morning swim, and then ride the course. I received a message from Mitch Wednesday evening telling me that the swim would be at 7:30 and the ride would organize afterwards. Thursday morning when we were still in southern Idaho I decided to call Mitch at 7:20 to let him know I wouldn’t be there because we were still several hours away. Little did I know that CdA is back in the Pacific Time Zone. I thought it a little strange that our tough, x-Marine coach was still asleep when I called but then I thought he must not be swimming; you know… no wetsuit.

 

We rolled into CdA about 2pm and we went directly to register (very smooth and quick) and find our friends from the desert who offered their lakefront, right on the course, home as our crash pad for the next five days. After registration I called Mitch to get directions to the house where the evening CpC dinner was to be and saw Chris Whyte. He filled me in on the day (water temp 60 degrees, bike course hilly and close to town etc.) and gave me directions to the house. I had time for a quick 30 min. run along the lake, so I took it.

 

When we arrived at the house Sean was playing gracious host while Mitch was in Spokane getting the BBQ. With introductions to extended family it was nice to see JD, Jeff M, Island Jim and Chris again as well as Dan Cadriel and his buddy Mike who I met in Phoenix last January at the ICTN  (International Christian Triathlon Network) Camp. It was also nice to meet a few other people who’s names and comments I had read on the forum, like Scott and Gary. Folks from Blue Seventy wetsuits showed up with some schwag as well as Hillary Biscane and Joanna Zeiger and family. When the van rolled up with a boat-load of food (I know, vans don’t float but a “van-load of food” doesn’t sound as ominous) the party was in full swing… Best laugh of the week was hearing about Brenda waxing Jim’s back; but you have to hear it from them.

 

Friday, brought an early morning swim as I demo’d a very comfortable and skin-like Blue Seventy wetsuit for one loop of the course. The water was a chilly 60 and Sean and I took our time getting in the water. As described, the swim going out was choppy and disorienting while at the first turn it was almost impossible to sight the next turn buoy as the sun was directly in your face. However, the swim back seemed smooth and almost like riding a current. I reluctantly handed back the wetsuit and rejoined Joy and Aubrey at Java for breakfast.

 

After heading back to the house to gather Aubrey’s things we took her to the Spokane airport and shipped her off to a six-week trip to Nepal with an organization called Royal Servants; a cross-cultural ministry designed to give young adults opportunities to share their faith and become missions-minded.  Although I have great faith in my very mature seventeen year old daughter I would have to put “saying goodbye” to her that day in the same category as walking her into her kindergarten class for the very first time. Both Joy and I were numb for several hours and we hardly spoke as we had lunch.

 

It’s now Friday afternoon and I still haven’t had a chance to ride the course. I was looking forward to the IronPrayer service at 4pm and realized that one would have to give… so, I went to IronPrayer. Besides seeing Dan and Mike again, I was able to reconnect with the folks who were speaking; JR Rosania, Chris Anderson and Heather Gollnick, all who were at the ICTN Camp. Each gave a good challenge and reminder of what the race of life is all about and we enjoyed the camaraderie of the largest gathering of an IronPrayer service I’ve yet seen. I especially want to thank all my new Florida friends from Sarasota. They were such an encouragement throughout the entire weekend. Thanks again!

 

Later, Carbo-Load dinner (why are these things so expensive when they serve basic chicken and pasta on paper plates?) and a fifty minute easy run.

 

Saturday… same swim, this time in MY wet suit. Again and not planned I met Sean at the beach. I wanted to dial in my sighting and a new pair of goggles but this swim just gave me confidence as conditions were smoother and even felt a little warmer. After changing my big chain ring from a 55 to a 53; Jeff, Sean, JD, Mitch and I were off for a short ride to the first out and back. Unfortunately, JD was having bike issues so with instructions from Mitch stayed behind to find needed parts to repair his wheel. After checking in my bike and gear bags, the rest of the day was given to a nap and a birthday party for our host’s granddaughter. As expected I received a race prep call from my globetrotting friend and occasional training partner Guido (we started this sport on the same day pathetically splashing our way to the hardest 25 yards a pool has ever seen) Bedtime, although I was definitely in jitter-mode, was 9:30 as I slept fairly well….

 

RACE DAY…

 

4:30 am…ah, forget the alarm I’m already up. I mix one packet of Power Gel drink mix with a banana, some strawberries and a little OJ and drink with a Power Bar, eat second banana with a few sips of coffee and that’s all I could get down; the nerves were in full swing now. Joy dropped me off at 5:30 and walking toward body marking I immediately ran into Sean and Chris. Sufficiently permanent marked, we headed off toward our bikes. I was in a back corner so I studied my surroundings and mentally marked my entrance into T-1 and made final preparations on the bike. I then checked my gear bags one more time because after the Honu (lost bag) experience I wanted to prop up my number in the rows assuring they would quickly be found. I then donned my wetsuit and headed off to the beach. Joy was there at the entrance and zipped me up then kissed me goodbye. I jumped in (ahhhh, the water felt even warmer) and I swam out to the first buoy. I wanted to make sure I did this early enough to get a front row start (ankles in the water) dead center. Soon the national anthem was… um, sung and bam! We were off!

 

Swim – Not bad for where I was. I expected to get beat up early, but it really wasn’t until the first turn when everyone converged that things got dicey. Again, it was hard to see and I kept my breathing away from the sun (to the right going out; to the left coming in). Standing up to make the turn on shore for the second loop I looked at my watch and saw 31 something and quietly shouted with glee. The second loop I think I went a little too wide going out as I found myself swimming back to the turn buoy. Oh well, I thought, who cares about a swim PR (the beginning of something not right)? Standing up the second time I saw 1:05:48… no time to think get to the bike and what are all these people doing walking? Get out of my way I have a timing mat to get to!

 

Bike – Transition seemed smooth, I stopped for sunscreen, the volunteers were great. Getting on the bike everything felt good. Even after the swim and run through T-1 my HR was surprisingly low (126). Easy does it, easy does it kept going through my head. When I saw Mitch at the first hill he said, “Relax, settle down” I nodded my head in agreement. By the way… that first aid station on the bike was a kick in the pants.
Wow! What energy. It put a smile on my face. Coming back into town I was trading places with two other cyclists. In the downtown section a guy rolled up and said, “Hey Dan, you’re staying a little too close to that guy, you’re going to get nabbed.” I thanked him and just rode past the dubious man in front of me to never see him or my cautious conscience again (too much ego perhaps?). Now the real fun begins… the technical hills. I had not seen this part yet and told myself to ride conservatively. I thought I did and felt comfortable. The flat section out to state line had a nice tailwind and the turn into the headwind was a bit stiffer than I thought it would be but manageable. HR remained in the high 120’s and low 130’s and the heat was kicking up but nothing like I’m used to. On the second loop every vital remained the same but I could tell my speed was down a little. Mitch again cautioned the pace when I saw him on the hill. But I was still passing people and feeling strong (what did I say about that ego?). On the hills the heat was kicking up and the riders in front of me started to get sparse. Coming back in along the freeway, I passed Chris and of course, he was quick with a few nice words, so I think I said some back. I started looking at my watch and adding the time and noticed I was close to a bike PR depending on how the wind would treat me. Coming in, the wind was stiff yet I pressed on. That last bit into T-2 was a fun fast little ride but not enough to PR. But then again, I should have been thinking well before then, “Who cares about a bike PR?”

 

Run – Transition was fast and smooth… love those volunteers who put your stuff away. I hit the run and felt pretty darn good. No real back pain and I stood right up coming off the bike so getting going seemed almost too easy. But then I started to feel my quads cramp… “No problem,” I though, “this is no Honu experience I’m Endurolyte loaded.” And I was. I had packets in my singlet pockets and small packets stapled all around my race belt. I took four and within a mile the cramping went away. Timing my first two miles I was under an eight minute mile pace and knew I had to dial it back immediately. But getting back to the transition area a close friend from the desert who moved to North Carolina caught my eye and yelled, “I came all the way from North Carolina to watch you race!”  I couldn’t believe it. They were actually on their way to Seattle and happened to be in the area on their way through… what a blessing! After that I settled into an average of about 8:30 to :40 a mile. HR right at 145-8 maybe a bit high but I thought the heat does that to you… I got to CdA Lake Rd. and passed Jeff and I thought, “I am feeling good (okay, yes there is an ego problem).” Steadily taking it out to the turn around I got to the place on the lake where our host home was and there were these signs posted in a row. Most of which, were meant to be a joke from a conversation with our friends when asked what do you say to someone racing? I told them anything encouraging BUT don’t say, “You’re looking good.” or “You’re almost there.” Invariably, these two sayings are never true. Most people have no concept of distance. Like the guy at the bottom of the hill on the first lap with 85 miles to go saying, “Keep going. You’re almost there.” Maybe he was talking about the top of the hill but he was wrong about that too. These signs our friends place on the course were a bit too much and embarrassing but they certainly put a smile on my face. Heading back into town I came across the Blue Seventy boys and they were really encouraging as well as Chris Anderson yelling more encouragement in town. Going down to the transition area I started to feel a bit sickly but thought to myself, “You’ve felt worse in a marathon and it’s hot keep going.” More endurolytes and a bit of water when I was heading out of the aid station but someone yelled, “Coke!” and I thought that sounded really good. So, I took a gulp and it was… cold, sweet and…

 

Oh, the wrong thing for my stomach!

 

Shortly, I started to feel queasy and severe stomach pain. GI, perhaps? I had this before; in Canada, with a bloody nose on less training. I felt sick. Then I started thinking of all the reason why I should quit. I justified… I bargained… I rationalized, “I’ve been to Kona already this year and last… do I really need to go back?” Little did I know at the time (although I had a suspicion) I was in 1^st place of my AG. That’s when I started…  at mile 13 to walk (actually off course and into transition to gather my things and go home). But then I thought it worse to quit than walk. Thank you Heather G. for telling the story last year about your Dark day of Ironman… it kept me going to try to encourage others. But the more I was out there the more I began to beat myself up… “What are you doing? You’ve never walked an Ironman marathon before!” Then the thought came to me. “Who cares,” yes, I was on course for a race PR… “Who cares that I PR (where was my ego now?)?” Jeff came striding by… plugging along. To say that the next two and a half hours were miserable would be an understatement. The heat, my stomach, I tried to throw up but couldn’t, my head playing games with me. I prayed “Lord, get me through this and teach me what it’s all about.” Somehow, I think He was doing just that, but I wasn’t listening nor did I seam to appreciate it at the time. At that Ford encouragement spot,or whatever you call it, there was a guy with a microphone yakking away. As I walked by he stuck the mic in my face and asked me how I felt… “Not very good.” I said as I gave him a look and then I looked toward the heavens and mumbled something like, "I'm sorry Lord it was a stupid question." Yep, I wasn't listening. A mile and a half later I saw Mitch. I stopped, filled him in on my condition and took off for another section of marching with the walking dead. When I got back to the town section I felt a little better and started to run again, I marked my first mile; just under 9min pace with an HR of 160 but I didn’t care… I only had two more miles. Mitch came around me slowly on his bike and gave me something to emotionally tether to and keep going. As I turned on Sherman (the last street and a half a mile to the finish) I realized I would soon see my wife and friends, still be an 11hour IM finisher and finally take my shoes off which were killing me. The crowd in town was great as I came through the shoot. I looked up and noticed that the 11:00 had already ticked by and the seconds were displaying :47 when I looked up under the arch. Two people grabbed me and walked me to a doctor. He asked me if I was okay. I said yes. He said when was the last time you peed? I said, “At the beginning of the run.” He said, “Take him to the med tent.” I thought, “You’re kidding. Just because it’s been a while since I went potty?” The people in the med tent were very nice and friendly. They laid me down on a cot, propped up my feet, took off my shoes (ahhh yes!) and poked me several times with a needle. The nurse kept going, “I’m sorry it’s not going in.” Finally, she did and stuff was dripping into my left arm. They asked if I felt like throwing up. I said, “Yes, for the last three hours.” They said they would give me a drug for that, they did, and soon the nausea was gone. Oh, I didn’t realize how nauseated I was until it went away. After two bags of IV they were going to give me a third and I told them, “No really… I feel fine.” Although, I was still a little woozy I was tired of laying there and I knew people were waiting for me. So, they let me go. However, I must say during my dark day of Ironman the staff in the med tent that waited on me; they were a bright spot and I thank them for all they did.

 

Final thoughts… Thanks to Spike and Sue for letting us stay at their amazing house. Mel and Linda for coming all this way to buy my post race dinner and watch me do this again. Merlin and Linda for your hospitality our last night in CdA. All the CpC family that were there or not to encourage, challenge and support and Mitch for the leadership to keep this thing going (and motor pacing me to the finish ;-) Joy for your incredible patience. Ironman is a selfish sport and those who stand by and let us do it are truly the ones with Iron endurance. Thank you Lord, for the health and strength to do this; if there is any good; I pray it is for your glory and if anything less than good; for my growth.

 

 

Soli Deo Gloria!

 

Today Ben looked over at me as we were kicking away another 100... "Bring your shoes?" "Yeah, but today's a rest day." I don't mind getting in a swim when my legs are thrashed. "Oh," he said, "enjoy your day."

 

You see, to all of us crazy folks who are in our "build" phase of Ironman training we relish our rest days. Especially now when the temps are holding in the low 100's where I live. This is the time of training when you're swimming the most, riding the most and running the most. You are constantly thinking about training; strategizing about timeframes and where you'll spend hours in the great outdoors.

 

Riding is the long stuff. You just have to put in the time. Five hours here, six hours there. Brick workouts where you roll your bike into the garage after going distances most folks won't do in their car and then run eight miles. Swimming used to be boring. Now it's fun. That's because I didn't know how to swim then but now... I still don't... but at least I'm swimming with people who make it fun. Running is just hard. It's hard on you. It's hard to get better, it's just hard. The road is hard, the heat is hard, the grind is... you get the picture.

 

Training is what this sport is all about. I know most think it's about the race but not to anyone who's really getting ready for one. If you're going to be a triathlete; you don't race... you train. The other day I was trying to think about what it was like when I didn't train. Hmmmm, I spent time with my family. I paid my bills. My lawn was mowed. I went to the movies. I stayed up and watched the news. I had a vacation.

 

My favorite part of training is getting so trashed in the morning before work that I limp in on sore legs, take my first meeting like a man (sitting down), eat lunch and then stare at the computer screen for the next several hours. As I sit there, I know there is something I'm supposed to do, I just can't remember what it is. Then the thought comes to me... "Don't worry. You'll remember what you're supposed to do on your next rest day."

 

Joy and I arrived in Kona on Monday afternoon and immediately sensed the whole Kona mystic upon the decent into the lava fields. Quickly, we grabbed the luggage and bike case, picked up the car and left the airport onto the Queen K to see the Energy Lab entrance. It all looked so familiar and I thought to myself, “Oh, yeah, this is it.” Then I had to make the turn up the hill to Costco. Upon arrival to our accommodations in Keauhou it was time to pack the fridge and unpack the bike. Tuesday was a day to explore the village and get in the water for the first time. Dig Me Beach was everything I heard it to be… a bunch of really good looking people standing around in their new Zoot, DeSoto, Speedo and TYR gear going, “Dig me.” I determined to do most of my training during the times that would be most consistent with race times and conditions. So, mid afternoon Joy left me at the village and I ran 10K back to our place. I was surprised the conditions didn’t feel more oppressive. The sun was definitely warm but with plenty of shade from trees and buildings as well as the trade winds coming off the ocean it all seemed to make the run along Alii rather pleasant.

 

That evening some friends, who were with us, arranged for an evening sail on a 56’ sailboat out of the harbor so we missed the Parade of the Nations and the opening of the Expo. Wednesday, I got on the bike and just took it easy to see if there were any mechanical issues to deal with. I was still up in the air as to whether to use an aero bottle or bottle cages behind the saddle. I decided to wait until I had a good indication of what the winds would be like on the Queen K. Lori and I ran for 1:10 because that was on her schedule for that day. I found myself laughing out loud when I started noticing what Lori referred to as the “stare down.” I’ll explain… Kona, is definitely not like any other race. At qualifiers you look around and see who might be your competition but in Hawaii, it’s like everyone is competition. So, as you run down Alii you may be looking forward but your eyes are trailing everyone… it was a crack up!  We ran straight to the athletes meeting only to sit in the sun for an hour and a half and hear all the things we already knew. Thursday brought another 7am swim with Jill and Lori. and later a 3 hour ride on a very windy Queen K. Lori was having mechanical issues with her bike which we were able to fix with a piece of a broken plastic pen. Lori and I went to IronPrayer at 4 and then walked over to the Carbo dinner and met up with Trix and the Swiss gang. Later that night my daughters arrived. It was great to see them although they immediately went to sleep upon arrival. Friday, brought a 20 min. swim, a 20 min bike and 15 min run. I got a pep talk from Mitch at the pier as I was beginning to feel the weight of the day. Had my hips and lower back stretched by the fine people at ART then went back to the condo to finish final preparations: Aero bottle decided and installed, Endurolytes and Gu attached to the bike allowing for 3 caps and two gel packets per hour. For the run same formula would apply. Bike and gear check in went smoothly and by 2pm I was back home resting with my feet up. Joy arranged a dinner for all the people who traveled to Kona to watch me race. All fifteen of them were wearing shirts which my daughter Sara had made. Lori and Mitch came and this gave us one last opportunity to talk through our race with Mitch and again provided a real confidence boost going into the night of “tossing and turning.”

 

Race day… wake up at 4am. Eat a dry raisin-walnut bagel (ever since IMC 03 I avoid dairy on race day thinking it was the culprit of GI) two small bananas and drink a blend of two scoops of Sustained Energy and a packet of Cytomax Preperformance with 16 ou of POG (passion, orange and guava juice…I love this stuff). Arrive at the pier at 5:15; body marking went quickly… getting to use the bathroom… not so quick. Checked in my run special needs bag and got to my bike and pumped my tires, checked the gears knowing there is an immediate climb up Palani. I found Ben Travis and we sat along the wall waiting for a time to walk down. I found myself surprisingly relaxed. My HR was in the 80’s and I was looking forward to getting started. The walk to the water I lost Ben but found Lori and saw Blake Benke who I roomed with in Brazil last year and right behind him was Billy who I recognized from the forum. After everyone wished each a good day the National anthem was sung and we were marched into the water. When the pros went off we were cleared to swim toward the line. Knowing I’m not the fastest fish in the water I chose not to stage near the pier but closer to the Body Glove boat… I think this was a mistake. When the cannon went off I was immediately surrounded tightly and found myself locked. I tried to swim over people to get out but it just didn’t seem to help. This also seemed to keep me further outside the buoys then I should have been. At the turn around I was under the impression there were two sailboats (because that’s what the diagram had shown) so again I stayed to the outside thinking this is what I had to do to get to the other boat… but there wasn’t one. Rookie mistake. Sighting wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be because there were rolling swells. So, you had to time your sighting. I finally found a pair of feet that stayed in front of me and got a good draft for about the last five hundred meters or so. Upon exiting the water I looked down to see 1:16. My heart just sank. I grabbed my T1 bag and in a daze just started picking through it. I knew right then. I needed to leave the swim in the water and move on with the bike and told myself, “Don’t try to make up for the swim by hammering the bike.” So, upon exiting T1 I just got into a groove on the bike and held HR to plan. (mid 120’s to low 130’s for the first 90 min. then race low 130’s and never exceed 145). One concern Mitch cautioned on using the aero bottle was the inability to monitor clear liquid intake. I figured I would be able to count bottles going in and maintain 24 ou. per hour. However, many of the water bottles on the course were not filled completely, some even half full and this made it awkward to keep track. I planned for a 5:30 or so ride so I had the perfect amount of Gu packets and Endurolytes when the ride finished at 5:25. However, not knowing what the day would be like heatwise I kept dumping water on my head to keep my core temp down as much as possible. That along with the occasional bladder relief and water rinse made for some pretty soggy feet coming into T2. Luckily, I had prepped a second pair of socks with foot powder and dusted my running shoes. This brought a little relief but it was short lived as I found myself keeping the same strategy on the run. So, by the turn around on Alii my feet were already soaked and by the time I reached Palani there was a real significant discomfort under my right foot. Thinking it was nothing more than my sock binding under my foot I plodded ahead noticing my mile splits were dropping although my HR was holding steady at 140 which was according to plan. I didn’t feel tired and knew I had lots of run in me having gone conservatively on the bike. I was shooting for a 3:40-45 marathon thinking that was realistic considering what I train at with a 140 HR. So, hoping to dry off my feet a bit I stopped the water drops and perhaps a bit too much intake as well as my pouch was empty of Endurolytes. By the time I hit the Energy Lab I was starting to feel some fatigue and my left hamstring started to seize. Fortunately, I had prepared a special needs bag which is something I’ve never done. But inside were three extra packets of Endurolytes and two Red Bulls. After passing the Special Needs station and calling out my number the volunteers missed my bag. I wasn’t going to stop and even said, “It’s too late” to the volunteers who were now yelling my number in confusion. So, about a hundred meters down the road I hear… “610… 610!” only to look over my shoulder to see a teenage girl chase me down with my bag… I immediately took back anything I thought about volunteers at the time. I popped some Endurolytes and chugged about half a Red Bull and start up the grade out of the Energy Lab. At the top was Mitch who was encouraging but I was starting to get anxious about the cramping. He assured me that taking the Endurolytes would have their effect and cheered me on as Lori came by me. She looked as good as I’ve ever seen her in a race and having trained with her for years I knew this was her day! I knew she wanted me to run with her but I just said, “Go get ‘em.” I wasn’t going to risk a walk because even with the slower pace I was still on track to finish in the daylight which was my ultimate goal in Kona. The rest of the run was maintained with a 140 steady HR and renewed energy with the cramps subsiding. I was looking forward to the turn from Hualalai onto Alii and finding the spot where Paula Newby-Frasier had her melt-down 10 years earlier which was, for me, the genesis of getting into this sport. At that turn and looking down at that spot, I have to admit it was a bit emotional as I realized the journey to Kona was nearly complete… just another 400 meters and it would be over. I saw friends wearing those shirts screaming encouragements and congratulations. Then around the bend I saw the finish line… my feet no longer hurt. I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face and then without warning my two daughters, Sara and Aubrey, joined me at my side and ran across the finish line together at the 10:45 mark. Okay, not my best… but certainly my most memorable, most enjoyable and most incredible race I’ve ever done. At this point all I wanted was to be united with my family and friends and to take off my shoes (which revealed a three inch blister on the bottom of my right foot a nasty one on my left pinky toe and two toe nails which will come off soon). They both happened almost immediately and I felt an appreciation for life and those who live it with you like I haven’t in a very long time.

 

Finally, at the culmination of a year… a few thanks.

 

To all the CpC family. It’s been a great year and I look forward to meeting more of you and talking about this great sport whether online or in person. To Mitch, thanks for all the support, encouragement, coaching and passion you have for this sport, your athletes and how you've helped me personally. You have developed quite a community. 

 

To my friends and training partners you have been a great part of the inspiration and drive for me to do this sport. To all those at Southwest Community Church, thanks for putting up with all the stories but mostly thanks for your prayers and patience.

 

To my wife and girls. Thank you for the incredible tolerance you extend to allow me such selfishness. I love you and am grateful to enjoy this life journey with you. I can’t wait until next year as each of you has said, “Let’s do this again!”

 

But for now… it’s time to rest.

 

Soli Deo Gloria!