It's Pretty Cool

The passing of time has brought even more pride and joy to my accomplishment. It doesn’t register with the same triumphant feeling of crossing the finish line, and there isn’t the same sense of achievement as I felt during the tide, the ride and the stride on July 24^th – but that is also a good thing.

If a person could get that feeling any other way, nobody would sign up for a 140.6 mile race. As I said in my last post, the great things I have felt since finishing are membership, the fight against cancer and pride.

Membership: I am now part of a club comprised of an elite group of men and women who have the honor of being called Ironman finishers. I’m sorry if that comes off as arrogant or snobby (really not my style), but this is an instance where I have earned the right to do so. For nine months I studied for the entrance exam, and after nearly 16 hours, I passed!

This wasn’t a feeling a expected, although I’m not sure why I didn’t. For the past year, whenever I saw a 70.3 sticker (the distance of a half ironman) on a car, I thought “hey, met too!” …It only makes sense that this brotherhood would extend – even more so – to 140.6… I still need to order that sticker!

There are more new doctors each year than Ironman finishers.

A greater percentage of people qualify to be members of Mensa, than become Ironman finishers.

A more people are struck by lightning each year, than finish their first Ironman.

The fight against cancer: As you probably know by now, and may be sick of hearing, I try to leverage my athletic efforts (especially the seemingly crazy ones) to raise awareness and funds for local cancer treatment through LIFEcycle, the organization I co-founded in 2008 with my wife (then fiancé), Dani.

This most recent escapade, in combination with my participation in the third annual Ride ‘Round Rhody, has resulted in nearly $2,000 being raised to support our neighbors in their battle against this awful disease. Dani and I set a goal to raise $3,011 for cancer treatment this year, through LIFEcycle, so we’re well on our way.

Having “UTIAC” temporarily tattooed on my arm gave me strength and inspiration during some of the more difficult (LONG) moments. Until There Is A Cure… it really did feel like I was going to be racing until that happened – I wish it was that easy. The race may be over, but the fight continues!

If you are able to take a few moments, and spare a few dollars, there are people who really need your help, both in terms of improved treatment and the psychological boost of knowing the community is in their corner. To make a contribution, please visit www.firstgiving.com/trijacob.

Pride: To say that I proved to myself that I did something unimaginable doesn’t do the term “that’s an understatement” any justice. When I made the decision to participate in IMLP, I had no doubt that I’d be able to do it. During the first 3 months, when everything was going great and my endurance was building nicely, I had no doubts. Following the Rev3 half iron race in June, I had no doubts. There was a period of about two months in the middle, though, when I worried that I may not be able to get myself ready in time. Those couple months, though, are not what I refer to when I say this was an unimaginable feat.

On September 21, 2008, I weighed more than 280 pounds. I had put on an average of 10-15 pounds each year for the previous decade. Sometimes I’d go on a diet or start exercising and lose maybe 20 pounds, but it always came back – with company. I started cycling in late 2006, and during 2007, I actually lost as much as 40 pounds… I wasn’t working at the time and was going to the gym twice each day – but it was worth the effort to start seeing results and getting in shape. But within a few months of ending the two-a-days, it was all back, and then some.

I had high blood pressure. My knees and ankles always ached. I was pretty active for a big buy, but I couldn’t even leg out a double in my charity baseball league without getting out of breath and needing to ice after the game.

On September 22, that all changed. That’s the date I had gastric bypass surgery. During the next year, pounds came off. I had to eat a very restricted diet for the first few months – and still have trouble with some things to this day. But, as the weight came off, my body began to allow me to be as active as I had given up wanting to be quite some time before. The following spring, I started running again (having not since junior high), and while watching Dani train for a triathlon, I caught the bug and the rest is history…

During the past nearly three years since the surgery, I’ve heard the occasional “easy way out” comment. It’s usually said in jest, and never spoken by a person that knows what actually goes into having bariatric surgery – because it is by no means easy. But with those comments are the spoken or implied question: “You couldn’t do it on your own?”  …well, no. I obviously couldn’t do it on my own, or I wouldn’t have had major surgery with lifelong implications. But, just because I know the answer, doesn’t me I don’t sometimes ask myself the very same question. Was I not strong enough to do it “on my own?”

The Ironman was my personal response to the naysayers, and to myself. Accomplishing this unthinkable physical feat was my mental test. If I could do this, I deserved my new weight/health/fitness. Surgery did not give me the determination or willingness-to-sacrifice that I needed for this endeavor. The surgery helped take off the weight, but did not help build muscle, increase endurance nor develop better stamina. I did that.

As a matter of fact, the surgery actually complicated the race, because it added a significant challenge. Most of the nutrition people take in during endurance events is sugar-based, in various forms. Too much sugar, either at once or accumulated during the day, does not work well for people who don’t use their stomach to digest. I didn’t take in nearly enough calories for the final 4 hours of the race (which may have otherwise been 2-3 hours). Sort of fitting that something that was needed to jumpstart my triathlon journey was also the final obstacle in achieving the biggest milestone of that journey. My lack of stomach also made training difficult, because it was challenging to each the volume of food I needed to take in enough healthy calories each day to avoid losing too much weight or not recovering properly.

Sometimes, in my head, I still feel like I weight more than 250. Sometimes, where I’m not in front of a mirror, I still picture myself with a 40” waist. I still often find myself thinking about things in those terms (especially when I’m ordering at a restaurant… talk about your eyes being bigger than your stomach!). To be able to put myself in check by reminding myself that I did an Ironman… that’s pretty cool. To know that not only am I physically fit and healthy, but that I was able to finish something that most people cannot wrap their head around starting… that’s pretty cool. Knowing that I am in control, that even though I needed help to lose weight, I own my body now… I maintain it, I keep it healthy, I push it to the limit – and beyond – all on my own (with the support of my wife, family and friends, of course – but I think you know what I mean). There is no easy way to swim, bike and run 140.6 miles. Any route you take to the end of an Ironman is the hard way, and nobody can deny that – not even me.

High fiving my father-in-law while running down the chute to the finish line. Shooting my Iron Man (comic character) guns while crossing the finish line. Hearing my wife call to me from the sideline and seeing her tears of joy. Being handed that finisher’s tee and hat. My mysterious sun rash. My lingering shin pain (x-ray tomorrow afternoon). The photo of me posing with my finisher’s medal.

“2.4 miles swimming! 112 miles biking! 26.2 miles running! A lifetime of bragging!”

Pride.

The Aftermath: Part 1

As I mentioned in my race report, I had some difficulty with math during the marathon – and now I’m having some difficulty with math of a different kind: aftermath. However, the last week has brought plenty more good than bad (relating to Ironman, triathlon and my efforts for LIFEcycle).

First I’ll get the bad bits of the aftermath out of the way, and my next blog will focus on the positives

Bad: My left shin, a mysterious sun rash and PIDS

Good: Pride, membership, cancer treatment (all in my next/final Ironing The Man blog post – probably in a few days… things got pretty backed up at work while I was in Lake Placid)

Shin: Starting late in the day on the Tuesday following the Ironman, my lower left shin began to hurt. It may have hurt before then, but so did everything else, so I didn’t notice. Wednesday morning, when all my other muscles seemed to be doing okay, my left shin was the only pain still reminding me of my triumph (luckily, there were plenty of positive things still reminding me, too: my wife telling me repeatedly how proud she was, all the “likes” and comments I was getting on Facebook, my finisher tee, which I wore for the second time that day). By the end of the day, after I took my compression socks off, I really felt it.

It was a little swollen, not too bad, but it felt like somebody had hit me in the shin with baseball bat. Now a full week later, the pain is still there. The silver lining is that at least this is making sure I take plenty of time away from running! I’m just hoping it isn’t a stress fracture, but I plan on getting an x-ray soon, if the pain persists.

Burn: I don’t remember if I mentioned this before, but I got some sort of sunburn, sun rash, sun allergy or some similar type of thing on my outer left calf. It was pretty nasty looking. It didn’t look like an actual sunburn, and it hasn’t blistered, but it gives me concern about being in the sun all day – at least this concern came after the race! I’m going to the doctor on Wednesday to get it checked out (I snapped a few photos, since it’ll be gone by then, but don’t worry – I won’t share them here).

PIDS: Post Ironman Depression Syndrome. This is the term used for a general feeling of let-down following an Ironman race. For nine months I had one date circled on my calendar. I was both counting down to it, in terms of when it would arrive, and up to it in terms of miles logged and hours trained. I planned my life’s schedule around training sessions and fitting in an extra race here or there. For months I thought about what I was eating, how I was sitting – I even changed the position I sleep in because of shoulder trouble (though later found out that wasn’t training-related). And in the blink of an eye (relatively speaking – because it was probably more 10,000 blinks) it’s all over.

Completing the Ironman is, and probably will remain, my single greatest physical achievement. It will certainly be one of the most memorable days of my life. Crossing the finish line will most likely be among my life’s top 10 greatest moments. But, it’s over.

Thinking about some other things that were a long time in the making, they all were counting to a new beginning… The longest of which was 9 years for undergrad – but graduation was the beginning of my career. I was engaged to the most amazing woman in the world and for 15 months we planned our wedding. When that momentous day came and went, I was left with a bride. It takes a fetus about the same amount of time to become a baby as it takes to train for a first Ironman (no political commentary, please – I’m just talking about time from conception to birth), but at the end of that countdown is a lifetime of parenthood.

Finishing an Ironman is an awesome feeling, but being finished with an Ironman is an entirely different story.

It is unlikely that I will participate in a full Ironman again – and certainly not any time soon. It just takes too much away from a person. This I’m not sure I want to give up again. But still, I am left with a feeling of loss. Most mornings, I have still woken up at 4:30 am, but with nothing to do. I have no interest in riding yet, not more than around camp. I can’t run. I swam yesterday, but casually and only for 20 minutes… Did those hundreds of hours over the past nine months really only add up to 15:55:08? Now what?

I am able to answer the questions and dispel the negative feelings each time they come up. But it is still too bad they have to flutter about… If there was a way to better capture the moment – the day of the race, or even the days leading up to it – that would be pretty cool. Pictures help. This blog helps – I wish I had been more active with it earlier in the process. Your comments help. My wife’s smile helps – and knowing that I’ll be around her more this coming winter, spring and next summer… that’s pretty nice too!

The man has been Ironed!

In a phrase: I am an Ironman!

In a word: Ouch!

It took me nearly 16 hours to finish the 140.6 miles, but that’s okay, because they give you 17! Here is my review, of the race and my performance.

When I got the transition area in the morning, I heard the water temperature was 77 degrees. This meant it would be a wetsuit optional swim – meaning if you opt to where one, you cannot win an award or qualify for the Ironman World Championship, in Kona. With no risk of that becoming an issue, the decision was easy! I set up my stuff, put on my wetsuit, kissed Dani goodbye for the day and walked down to the water.

This was my first triathlon with a mass start – and if I have any say in the matter, it will also be my last. That’s a bit drastic, actually. I would still probably do another mass start race, but with all else being equal, I would choose a different race over one with a mass start. For those who don’t know what I’m talking about, triathlons have two types of starts: wave, or mass. In a wave start, athletes are divided into various sub-groups (most typically by age groups), and each group begins separately, usually with a 3-minute gap. In a mass start, everybody begins at the same time – and in this case, that meant 2,500 people, all in the water together, starting to swim at the same time.

For nearly the entire first lap (1.2 miles) I was getting kicked, elbowed, stuck behind slower people – and, to be honest, kicking, elbowing and slowing down others. This wasn’t as bad for the second lap, because getting out of the water to run across the timing mat (so they can be sure everybody does both laps), spread out the crowd a bit, but at the first turn of the second lap, more bunches formed.

I got out of the water after completing the 2.4 mile course, a wetsuit peeler helped me yank it off and I headed into transition. I grabbed my bike gear back and went into the changing tent. I’ve also never done a tri with a change tent before – maybe it’s just limited to full distance events – but this was quite the scene (to avoid). I grabbed my bike and ran to the bike start arch.

The bike course was amazing! I had heard a lot about the hills, but they weren’t too bad. I had done a lot of hill training, and actually competed in early June in an event that was half as long, with a few hundred feet more in total ascent than this route. With the biggest hills at the end, though, it was a challenge the second time around – after more than 100 miles, any hill is.

After completing the 112-mile, two-loop course, I pulled back into transition where a helpful volunteer grabbed my bike from me to re-rack it, saving a minute or two. I just liked the convenience of it, but I’m sure for the elite age-groupers, or people trying to hit a specific time goal, this is valuable time savings. I grabbed my run gear bag and headed back into the changing tent. I took some time to stretch and get some nutrients in. I also lathered up with a bit more sunscreen (I had stopped at a few aid stations and gotten spray-on tanning lotion, but I don’t trust that stuff).

And back to the mention of hills… I hadn’t heard much about the hills on the run course, and they were brutal! Up until just before I finished the first loop of the run course, I was close to my planned pace for everything… The swim was expected to take me 1:20, it took 1:19. The bike was expected at 7:11, it took about 7:40, I was only a few minutes off on transitions, and the first 12 miles of the run were at 10:40, with an expected 10:45… Then, the hills started to take their toll.

I made a critical mental mistake going down the steepest, longest hill, the second time around, at about mile 14. I was running down it, which was a mistake to begin with, and when I realized halfway down that this was a mistake, I decided to switch to walking – adding to the criticality (made that word up, I think). Slowing down like that, and transitioning to a walk was deadly on my quads. From that point on I was alternating running and walking… very heavily favoring walking. Even running from there on I couldn’t break 12:30/mile (and wasn’t trying to).

Adding to this issue was stomach (or lack there of) trouble. My main source of fuel during the run was supposed to be gel (90 cal/serving of a simple carb mix, in syrup form). About halfway through, I could no longer tolerate eating it, because of the way it was making me feel. I had to stick to water, sports drinks, and after the sun started to set, chicken broth.

Speaking of the sun starting to set – it got cold! I had one of the reflective heat blankets wrapped around me while I walked, and I’d crumble it up and stick it in my pocket when I jogged.

With all my blood concentrating on keeping my legs going, it was getting difficult to do math – however there was only a brief point when I questioned whether or not I’d be able to finish in time if I needed to walk at the current pace for the rest of the race. I got very concerned when my math had me finished around 2:30 am, with a midnight cutoff… however, that’s because I was using the 26.2 total miles, rather than the 8 or so miles I actually had left at that point. I realized my error pretty quickly, and other than that, never let doubt of finishing creep into my head.

I knew I would finish, and 15:55 after the gun went off, I crossed the finish line and became an Ironman!

Ironplan Lake Placid

Ironman Lake Placid is here... one day away... 24 hours from now, I'll most likely be somewhere around the out-and-back of the bike course, my second time around the loop. My nerves haven't really started... I expect them to pretty soon. I'm taking it easy today, sitting around the hotel room in the AC, feet up, sipping sports drink, spending time with my bride. Probably head to the pool in a bit, then an early dinner with Dani and my in-laws. I got a good night sleep last night, because I don't really expect to sleep too much tonight - although I certainly hope I can. I am planning to lay down by 8:30.

Here is my race plan for tomorrow. Primarily it focuses on what I'll be eating/drinking and when. Nutrition, for all triathletes is a huge component of the race, but because of my gastric bypass surgery (I don't use my stomach to digest food), this makes nutrition planning even more vital for me - and it also makes it more of a challenge to get right. Not in the plan are the Sour Patch Kids that I bought Thursday morning, and have been waiting for... Monday.

As for the pacing and times... If anything comes up that would slow me down, that's fine. If the swim is slower than planned, I won't make up for it later in the race. Regardless of what happens before any given part of the plan, I will not try to go faster. If I need to adjust the pace slower to keep going forward, for any number of reasons, I will. If I finish in the planned time, awesome... If I finish 10 minutes or 3 hours later... still awesome - so long as I finish!

I look forward to telling you all about the race, but not before Monday!

Ironman FAQ

I've been getting a lot of questions about my participation in the Ironman, so I figured - "Hey, why not use this as an opportunity to actually write another blog post." I thought this would be a good idea, since it will increase my number of posts by 33%!

So, without further ado...

What is an Ironman?: The Ironman is the most popular "brand" of long course triathlon. All triathlons consist of swimming, biking and running - in that order - and the "full distance" is 140.6 miles. It breaks out to 2.4 miles swimming, 112 miles biking, and 26.2 miles running.

Why Lake Placid?: The timing of the event and the proximity to my house made this the ideal choice. It's the only one in reasonable driving distance. While it would be cool to fly to Australia or somewhere, to do one, participating in one that I can drive to is expensive enough without airline tickets and the extra $100+ to fly with a bicycle.

What's the training like?: I started training at the end of November - one week after deciding to participate. In the beginning, I was training for about 8-10 hours per week, and after a couple months that increased to 12 hours per week. The last couple months have been closer to 15 hours. I typically swam twice, biked three-four times and ran three-four times. Throughout the winter I primarily trained for the bike by going to Spin classes (double sessions once per week), and I ran outside at least once each week.

Why are you doing this?: I am doing this to prove to myself that I have the will power and ability to accomplish something that only a few years ago was less than unimaginable. Also, I am doing this to raise money for local cancer treatment and raise awareness for LIFEcycle's mission to promote healthy active living and support local healthcare. By racing an Ironman, I hope to generate interest from my friends, family and others, and hopefully they will learn more about LIFEcycle and decide to make a contribution in support of my significant efforts. Contributions can be made here (http://www.firstgiving.com/trijacob) or here (http://www.active.com/donate/RRR11/JACOBandDANI)

What's your goal?: My goal is to finish. Therefore, my only time goal is 16:59:59 (you are required to complete the course in less than 17 hours). However, my race plan has me expecting to finish somewhere around 13.5 hours, or 8:30 pm -- but that's just a guideline. It is unlikely to be any faster, and pretty likely to be a little (or possibly a lot - which is okay by me) slower.

How can I keep track of your progress?: There are a few ways to follow the race. The most accurate way to see my progress is via the Ironman website, where they will post split times throughout each leg of the race. For this athlete tracker, you can enter my name, or bib #995.

You can also watch the race at www.ironmanlive.com. I am guessing that I will finish sometime around 8:30 pm. If you are lucky enough to be friends with my wife on Facebook, she is usually awesome and posts updates on my progress... She's always awesome - but only usually posts those updates :) You can use that to follow, and/or use it to gauge when to tune in to ironmanlive.com.

Are you insane?: "We all go a little crazy sometimes." ...and Sunday night, my quote of choice from the same movie will most likely be, "I'm feelin' a little woozy, here." First person to name that movie wins a prize!

Do those compression socks/tights really work?: Will the Red Sox go to the World Series?... I believe so, but the answer is still uncertain.

I’m Here to Finish

 I have been in training for Ironman Lake Placid (2.4 miles swimming, 112 miles biking, 26.2 miles running - in less than 17 hours) for the past nine months. During that time, I swam approximately 210,000 meters (130.5 miles); I spent 11,996 minutes on my bike (3,199 miles); and I ran roughly 712 miles. I trained for an average of 12.2 hours each week. That meant about seven hours less sleep than I was used to and five fewer hours of “free time” with my wife than if I wasn’t training to accomplish something that less than 0.002% of the world’s population will try to do – and for good reason!

I encountered a few problems during my training. There was my IT Band Syndrome, but with regular stretching and some PT treatment, it was quickly brought under control. Then there was the issue of beginning a new job mid-training, which has a significant commute – cutting into training time. Weaving through all that was some upper back/neck pain. Initially I assumed this was related to training, as it actually began last summer while I was near the end of training for my first 70.3 – but I finally had an MRI and found out that I have some sort of arthritis in my spine – awesome!

My guess is that the struggles I went through are pretty common for people training for an Ironman. I can’t imagine many age groupers make it through what rounds to a year’s worth of heavy training without needing some minor repairs or tune-ups.

I used to think it was all just hot air when people said things like “I learned a lot about myself during the process,” and “it’s an honor just to be competing,” but then again, I also used to be 100 pounds overweight and my idea of a triathlon was snack, couch, TV.

I have, in fact, learned a lot about myself physically, but more so, mentally. I found that I do in fact have will power. I never thought I had any; or at least not much of it. But, during the past nine months I’ve accomplished things I never would have thought possible. I finished my second 70.3 race, with a smile. I nearly ran a sub-6 minute mile (and the attempts at that will resume once I recover from the madness that will commence shortly after dawn on Sunday). I came in fifth in my age group at a sprint (less than 2 minutes shy of the podium), running my fastest 5K ever (including road races without that pesky swim-bike). I ran in the snowy mountains of upstate New York while my family slept in a warm condo. I biked through rain while my friends gathered at brunch. I went to bed, some nights, earlier than I used to eat dinner. I woke up earlier than I used to go to bed. I’ve raised more than $1,500 for local cancer treatment, through LIFEcycle (you can donate on my personal fundraising page).  I miraculously cut candy out of my diet (a few days a week, anyway – I had to pick my battles!). And the biggest miracle of all - I managed to remain a good enough husband to still have a wife!

Speaking of miracles, when I finish the race, it’ll be at quite a fitting venue: the Lake Placid Olympic Center, where “Great moments are born from great opportunities. And that’s what [I] have here tonight, boys. That’s what [I’ve] earned here tonight!” Sunday will be my great moment, born from the great opportunity I earned by making it through training.

I look ahead to Sunday, knowing that I am truly lucky to have made it this far. I still have another 140.6 to go to reach the end, but just toeing the line is a miracle for me. I am honored to compete… I am ready to race… I’m here to finish.

Race Report: Rev3 Quassy, HalfRev

I know it's been a VERY long time since my last post... but let's not worry about the past... let's just move forward. I'm going to try to be better. Anyway... on to the actual post...

My goal for the Rev3 HalfRev in Quassy was to finish as close to planned as possible. I wanted to use this race to build confidence going into the final weeks of training for Ironman Lake Placid and my “plan” wasn’t to race a great race, it was to race at my planned Ironman pace and end feeling tired, but like I could have kept going.

I have never been so happy to report that things did not go according to plan – but I’m getting ahead of myself. (Planned pace: 2:00/100m; 16mph; 10:30/mile)

First, I’ll go back to race prep… Like I said, I’m training for a 140.6 event, so a 70.3 race, seven weeks before shouldn’t be a big problem. However, about two months ago I started experiencing some knee pain following long (and then short) runs. This limited my run training, so needless to say, I was starting to worry about being able to run a marathon (11 miles farther than I’ve ever run before)… then, all of a sudden I realized, BOOM, I have a 70.3 in three weeks and I’m not even entirely confident about that… I had forgotten that along my journey to Lake Placid, I still had formidable obstacles to overcome. I decided that my confidence about Lake Placid would depend on how I feel the Tuesday following Rev3 (yesterday).

The morning started off not too different from most… I woke up to my alarm (3:50 a.m. – 40 minutes earlier than usual) and quickly made my way to the bathroom to get dressed while trying to avoid waking my wife. I made myself a cup of tea and some oatmeal. The big difference was that I was at the Hampton Inn in Southbury – a fine place to stay before the race, as they were kind enough to start serving the complimentary breakfast 2 hours earlier for us crazies!

We got to Quassy around 5:45 and I set up finished setting up my transition area – I got a nice spot right near the aisle, close to the bike exit! I took a quick trip to the WC, put on my wetsuit and made my way down to the beach. I took a quick scan of the course and counted the buoys so I’d be able to track my progress. Little did I know I wouldn’t be seeing too much of some of those bouys…

The pros started, then the M35-39… then my turn: M30-34.  I started near the back… My name isn’t Chris McCormack and I’m not here to win, I’m here to finish (and getting kicked and punched, and kicking and punching others, isn’t going to help advance my cause). I quickly found my stroke and glided to the first turn… my mistake was making that turn… After the first third-ish of the swim course, a right turn takes swimmers east in Lake Quassapaug – directly in line with the rising sun. The result was buoys that were impossible for me to see. At one point, I couldn’t tell if I was on or off course because I hadn’t been able to find a buoy in a while and I couldn’t see more than a handful of swimmer near me – the next think I knew, I was practically colliding with a buoy… so at least I was on course! After the second turn, the arch for the end of the swim was visible on the beach and the buoys along the way became easier to see, again… I got out of the water feeling great and ran through the amusement park, and up to my bike.

Wetsuit: off. Jersey: on.  Bike computer: turned on. Sunscreen: lathered. Sunglasses, helmet, shoes: check, check, check. Go!

I click-clocked my way to the bike mount line and started the 56-mile ride. I chomped on a couple gummies and looked down at my computer… I felt like I might be going too fast, but I had decided not to look at my average speed until mile 10, because I didn’t want to worry about it too early – so I just made sure to not push it. If I had to guess, maybe only 15% of the bike course is flat – the rest is up or down… Now, I understand that this isn’t the case, but despite ending up in the same spot, I am fairly certain that you climb at least 5 times as much as you descend – but I know that it’s equal.

The bike course is a really great course with almost all the roads being well paved (I only ejected one water bottle!) and shade for a good portion of it. The only downside is the manure smell from all the farms in the area… I guess it’s no worse than the exhaust I usually breathe in. In the end, I only felt like I was working hard for a few of the last 5 miles. Perfect!

I almost had a little trouble with my dismount coming back in to transition. I took my shoes off first, leaving them in the pedals, but my left leg did not want to make it all the way over the top tube… Luckily, it did at the last minute.

Helmet: off. Socks and shoes: on. Sunscreen: spackled. FuelBelt and bib: velcroed.

I always tend to run too fast off the bike… My legs feel like tight bags of jelly and they just flop forwards and backwards to easily… This was my problem in last year’s 70.3 race in Providence, and I didn’t want to make the same mistake again. I repeatedly checked my pace… I allowed myself to go a little fast because 1) I felt really good, 2) the run course starts with a good amount of minor-moderate downhill’s and 3) I felt really good. I knew I had biked at least a little faster than expected which meant two things… I could take it a little easier on the run and still finish with the expected overall time, or I could try and stay according to plan and see where I ended up… There is a third option, which was assuming that since I was able to bike a little faster and feel good, maybe I could run a little faster and feel good. I needed to ignore that option. I was in this race to prep for a full Ironman and I needed to stay strong in the weeks following this race to continue my training.

Each time I passed a mile marker and hit the lap button on my watch I assessed myself… How did I feel? Good. How was my pace? Good. Could I keep it up? I think so (again, I didn’t want to get ahead of myself). But I just kept “thinking so.”

Well, the entire run, up until about mile 11, I felt fantastic… Even the last 2+ miles felt okay… They were challenging and a little slower, because somebody had the awesome idea to finish the half marathon course off with a long steep climb… But as I made my way up Middlebury Rd and turned into the park, I still felt great as I made my way under the finishing arch.

I collected my finishers medal, finishers tee, a Gatorade and a Muscle Milk… I was greeted and congratulated by the most beautiful cheerleader ever, and I probably gabbed somewhat incoherently about the great race I just had, while waiting for the adrenaline to settle and the blood to return to my brain.

Back to that plan I mentioned earlier…

Swim Plan: 2:00/100meters

Swim Actual: 2:02/100 meters

Bike plan: 16mph

Bike Actual: 16.67mph

Run plan: 10:30/mile

Run actual: 10:11/mile

Overall plan: finish on pace, feeling tired but like I could have kept going

Overall actual: I finished more than 10 minutes ahead of schedule, definitely tired, but also strong and I could have kept going… Not for another 70.3… but I still have time.

Rev3 puts on a great event, and this race gave me such a boost heading into the final seven weeks before my Ironman… I had reservations a few weeks ago, but I was ready for 70.3 last Sunday and I’ll be ready for 140.6 in a month and a half! 

A Journey of 140.6 Miles Start with One Blog

On July 24, at 7:00 AM, I will “toe the starting line” for the Ford Ironman Lake Placid; a triathlon consisting of a 2.4-mile swim, followed by a 112-mile bike, followed by a 26.2-mile run. I have never completed any one of these feats individually.

Between now and then I will train for an average of approximately 11 hours per week, maxing out at about 19 hours in one week. I’ll travel more than 4,000 miles in total during my training – which includes a half-iron distance triathlon.

I am doing this for three main reasons…

• I enjoy the challenge.
• I like the focus it brings to my struggle with attaining a higher activity and fitness level.
• I hope to use this challenging experience to raise awareness for LIFEcycle, Inc. and its mission to promote healthy, active living and support local healthcare.

This is now the third time I have started a blog… I hope this time it sticks… I hope you will be here with me, sharing in the experience as I discuss the challenges and victories during the next several months – relating to my training, my daily life away from triathlon, my work for LIFEcycle and whatever else I deem worthy of sharing with the world.