As with all race reports I write, if you just want race report details scroll down to RACE DAY:

Joy and I left San Jose International just after 8pm. The goal was to sleep a little arrive in London and withstand the long layover that would put us in Nice at around 9pm. Luckily we had lounge access while at Heathrow, which made the layover comfortable. We had upgraded to Premium Economy, which I highly recommend when flying over 10 hours. However the flight to Nice was a bit crowded and did not offer the amenities we had just been accustomed to. However, it was a short flight and we were soon waiting in baggage claim.

In 2008, which was the last time we had flown to Nice, so I could compete in Ironman France, my bike did not arrive with our luggage and after at least 30 minutes of waiting and observing no less than three disbursements of various hard and soft shell cases holding very expensive configurations of carbon fiber, it appeared as if lightning had struck twice. I was a bit concerned about the time it was taking as I secured a transfer from welcomepickups.com (which I will always use if available from here on… trust me!). I knew our driver would wait up to an hour. After filing the missing bike report through my broken French and her broken English, I had a claim ticket in hand and an assurance the bike would be waiting for me at our hotel in the morning. As we walked out of baggage claim our driver was waiting with my name on a small electronic tablet and a smile on his face. I apologized for the inconvenience. He looked surprised, “Inconvenience? No. We’re happy you’re here!… Let me take that for you.” as he grabbed our bags. His car was just outside the door of the airport exit and within 30 seconds we were leaving the airport. Our driver’s English was impeccable and his knowledge of Nice – vast! In just the 3 miles it took him to drive us to our hotel, we had plenty of suggestions of things to do for the next several days while staying along the Promenade.

I booked our hotel through the official Ironman travel company and loved that the location was directly within eyesight of the race start and finish. But when we checked into our room, well… it didn’t quite look like the photos I had seen on the website. The room was, shall we say, a bit tired! It had two twin beds, which were different lengths pushed together to make a king but the linens were still twin sheets! It had only two pillows and two towels and no view out the window. But the air conditioning worked! So we had that going for us! Quickly shedding our bags and putting ourselves together we set out for a classic late night dinner. We didn’t have to walk far before we were seated at a street-side bistro along the Promenade enjoying garlicky steamed mussels, French fries, a four cheese pizza and a bottle of Rosé.

One of Joy’s clients had mentioned a product she uses all the time as she travels frequently to Europe and China called “No Jet Lag.” No joke. Tiny little pills you chew on every one or two hours while in flight. So, now near midnight, it was time to get to sleep… did I sleep through the night? YES!!!

After breakfast the next morning, which was included as part of the travel package, we walked into the lobby and viola! There was my bike as promised. We took the bike up to the room unpacked it and got ready to do a little swim/bike before registering before lunch. With goggles in hand, and hearing the water temps were in the low 80’s we grabbed our two towels and headed across the street and onto the rocky beach… And when I say rocky, I mean rocks the size of baseballs! They’re called gallets and have found their way down the steep slopes of the Maritime Alps for centuries making this stretch of the Mediterranean quite unique.

We plunked down in an open space where I notice to my left, just hanging out, is Ironman legend, Mark Allen! After soaking in a bit of the warm sun I tell Joy, I’m going in. Gingerly walking across those slippery/slidey rocks I walk into the surf and immediately a wave tosses an underwater rock into my left shin! DANG!! That hurt. I plunge, I swim, that water is nice, I swim out to the yellow buoys set up to mark the safe swim zone. I quickly head back and all is good except my bleeding left shin!

Donning socks and bike jersey I now just want to get about 10-12 miles in to be sure everything is working well and my legs are sharp. I remember the road out of Nice up the Var River from IMFrance in 2008. It’s flat and windy but I don’t really push through all the gears on my bike which will come back to haunt me later.

Registering at the Expo was easy and well organized. I didn’t really need anything other than a CO2 cartridge so I purchase two and place them in my pocket. On our way out… I notice the race apparel is quite nice and purchase a visor. It’s blue and will match my ZERO Cancer race kit.

That evening is the Welcome banquet. We take the train from the expo location up the 2 kilometer stretch of road to the massive sports center. The food is not bad, they have an energetic and well choreographed opening number with several hundred dancers that came out of nowhere! A cool interview of Mark Allen, Dave Scott and Paula Newby Fraser connecting this race to the prestigious Long Course World Championships back in the 80’s when it was the one of two “have to do races” in the sport… Kona being the other. There’s a good preview video and well wishes to all the athletes promising the race to be Unique, Historique, Légendaire! Next up is the English athlete briefing… The US has the largest contingency of athletes racing by nearly double any other country. So, you can imagine a LOT of folks stayed meaning when it was over those trains were going to be packed. Joy and I opted to walk back… it was a nice walk and we determined that it would have taken us the same time either way.

The next day was rest and exploring the old city of Nice, filled with bistros and small retail shops where we enjoyed classic French baguette sandwiches and gelato. That evening we met our good friends Barry and Susie for an exquisite dinner at Le Bistro Gourmand. Barry had just qualified two months prior on a whim and very little run training as he had been sidelined for almost three years of severe leg pain. But discovering he could string together a short but painful run at Escape from Alcatraz he turned around and signed up for a race only weeks later… He took 1^st in his age group at 70.3 Lubbock!  

Saturday was the women’s race. It was awesome to just walk out the front doors of our hotel to see all the action. When the race started we had grabbed a quick coffee and croissant and watched the women pros push through T1… the age group women were allowed to wear wetsuits as apparently the water temps dipped below 76 degrees. By the afternoon I had checked in my bike and gear and now it was time to grab our rental car and head to the second location for our French vacation; Theoule-sur-Mer! You see for some reason, I thought the men were racing on Saturday so I only booked our hotel through Saturday… This meant having to navigate around road closures to the airport to grab our car and drive the 40 minutes west to this tiny marina village on the west side of the Bay of Cannes. Also meant getting up a lot earlier the next morning to drive back to Nice and find parking!  The hotel staff at Hotel Le Royal were pretty awesome and arranged a taxi driver who could weave his way through the tiny side streets to eventually get us to the airport! Wow that was an adventure but successfully we had our car and were on our way.

We LOVE Theoule! This is where we stayed in 2008 and is made available to us from our friends Ellie and G! To say having the ability to stay here is a gift would be an understatement! I could go on and on about this place but… this is not a travel report it’s a race report…

RACE DAY:

When the alarm went off at 4am I was pretty much wide-awake. Not that I was particularly, sleepless. It was just good timing. Now dressed for the day and going through my gear, I made sure I had just what I needed and Joy had a change of cloths for me afterward. It had been cooler the day and evening before and since the gals got to race in their wetsuits, I grabbed mine. Coffee, croissant, eggs, sausage and OJ, we’re out the door into the cool, dark air.

Driving into Nice we were relying on GPS and the instructions from our Sixt Rental Car agent to get into the underground parking lot, which was pretty much underneath the finish line of the race. Let’s just say… GPS wasn’t very accurate and I was starting to get nervous trying to navigate the “no rhyme or reason” configuration of city streets in Nice. However, after a few noticeable landmarks we were able to make our way and safely park right were we wanted.

With over 3000 guys racing, the transition area between the shore and the promenade was quite long. I had a low number (based on age) so as I entered I was not far from my bike… “What did I just hear?” The race announcer said it again… “That’s right gentlemen the water temperature is 26 (Celsius) that means it’s a NON wetsuit swim… No wetsuits!” What the heck!?! The ladies got to wear them and it’s been a lot cooler since yesterday. How’d that happen? I realized I over thought and under prepared by leaving my swim skin back at the apartment. Now I’m ticked, frustrated and wondering what to do…  I take off my jersey and heart rate strap and place it on my bike… no, that won’t work what if it falls? I could get a penalty. I put it back on. UGH! I need to go potty!! The announcer is letting everyone know it’s time to clear T1 and that there are plenty of bathrooms at the swim corral. I head that way, drop off my morning cloths bag and get in line for the bathroom??? This is the longest line I’ve ever seen and how many porta-pottys? Maybe a dozen… oh, this is not good. I think to myself, it’s probably less then a 10 minute walk to our hotel and they have a nice big bathroom in the lobby which is probably empty right now… So I head that way… I see Joy and let her know what I’m doing and will be right back.

As I start my brisk walk back to our hotel I see a building with the name Hotel Beau Rivage on it… That’s Barry and Susie’s hotel… just then a couple exits from the doors! I quickly size up there’s likely a bathroom in their lobby too and I slide in before the door closes… it’s super nice. All marble. Where’s the lobby? Ah… elevator I need to go up one floor. Elevator door opens, elevator ascends one floor, elevator door opens… to three doors. Huh? I go back down to the white marble foyer. OH! another elevator. Must have been the wrong elevator. I try that one. This time only two doors! Next floor up? Again, two doors. WHERE is the lobby?! I head back to the marble room with those big glass doors to the promenade… Obviously there’s no access to the front of the hotel from these elevators. Then I see a plaque on the wall… and I read the words “Embassy.” What? Who’s embassy? No wonder there’s no access or signs. I head to the exit I recently had sneaked in… I push the bar on the door. It doesn’t move. I push again. Nothing. It’s locked! I see a grey push button on the wall. I push it. Try again… nothing. The door will not open. I’m alone in a marble room with no phone, no exit, no one noticing I’m in there… two thoughts come to mind… First, I’m gonna miss my race because I was trying to be clever… Second, I really have to go to the bathroom!! Upon a desperate prayer and one more, what I believe will be a futile effort, I try pressing the button again and viola!! I’m free. I’m not sure what happened but I’ll let you speculate; answered prayer or some security guard watching a panicked American flailing around like a toddler on his screen finally having a moment of compassion?

As I beeline it to the hotel I notice right across from the finish line there is a line of toilets behind a chain-link gate. It’s slightly open and I notice another athlete exit one of them… He slides through the opening. I ask, “It’s okay to use these?” He responds, “Nobody said I couldn’t.” I run to an empty, orange plastic box, do my bidness and head back to the swim start.

Swim:

The pro men are already in the water and a few of the first age group waves have been sent off. I find my age group is now open to entering the swim coral. There is a thin layer of carpet covering the rocks but the surface is still hard and uneven. I take a seat. 20 minutes later we’re being moved into the chute. It’ moves quickly. I’m wishing I had my swim skin on. I check my watch, pull on my goggles and cap and wind my way to a line of men six or seven deep that go 10 wide. Every 5 second, 10 men run into the warm light blue water. Water conditions are not rough but nor is it smooth. It appears there’s a bit of a current out there and beep, beep, beep, beep, boooop! I’m off. During the first two hundred meters it’s pretty congested as we all swim about the same pace. I try to compete for a few kicking feet in front of me but another swimmer pushes forward. I keep swimming at my pace. It feels a bit slow going out but I seem to be sighting straight to the turn. It’s out there a bit but soon I’m making the turn and with the sun now up and behind us I can make out the buoys pretty well. As I swim across to the next turn I’m thinking the current was coming in so I try to adjust for it and push to my left, little did I realized the current was actually going out and quick I found myself way to the left. I course correct and get to the second turn. Now going against current I realize it’ll take a little longer to get back to shore and now the sun is in my eyes when I breath (to the right). Eventually I’m at the last orange buoy and can clearly see the swim exit. I remind myself about the calmness of this moment and to take it in. As you get close to the shore you can hear the sound of the rocks clicking together in each wave hitting the shore. My fingers hit the rocks, I stand, grab a hand and push up to the carpeted exit. Pulling off my cap and goggles I see my time, 39 minutes. Oh crap! That was slow!

T1: I get to the top of the ramp and make a left turn into transition. Heading to rack with our bags holding bike gear I’m running in my bare feet when my right big toe slams into a steel plate that’s covering a bunch of electrical cords. I whimper something about “stupid, ouch, what the? Can’t breath!” I sit down. My toe is bleeding. I put on my socks… Crap that hurts!” now my shoes… “That too!!” I start running to my bike. Friend and teammate Kyle taps me on the shoulder as we run together to our bikes. Kyle caught me in the swim, He was a couple waves behind me in the start. I wish him a good race! We’re out of T1.

Bike:

The ride out is cool. You have the ocean to the left, the iconic Promenade hotels like the Negressco to the right. Quickly you pass the airport and roll your way to the river. In the morning the winds rush down the river toward the sea. Later as the temperatures climb the air literally rises and sucks sea air inland giving this section of the course headwinds in both directions! Once you turn left off the main road along the Var, you immediately start a steep and technical climb. Dang it! I don’t have my climbing gear. Apparently the derailleur got tweaked in transit and now won’t shift up to the final cog… I should have tested every gear on the flat ride just days prior. As you head up, the climb lets up a little here and there but really once you start pedaling uphill you don’t stop until the top of Col de Vence, which after leaving the city of Vence you wind your way up 10 kilometers, each letting you know what is the elevation and gradient. What really makes this course epic is the ancient villages and historic locations where some of the world’s most famous impressionists did their work; not to mention the shear elevation you ascend to and the view of the Mediterranean below. The descent is smooth and fast. I chose to ride my road bike for comfort and ease but was wishing I had my TT bike for the descent and the headwinds along the river.  As we enter back into Nice, I can see runners already at the airport turn around. I had to remind myself my wave as over an hour later than the first Age Group start. It’s warmed up quite a bit and in just a few minutes coming out of T2 I’ll know just how hot!

T2: I’ve slipped out of my shoes and riding the tops to the dismount line. I get to the line and cross it and jump off… A lady is yelling at me. “You crossed the line! You crossed the line!!” I look at her not understanding, “Of course!” I said, “You’re supposed to get off before the line!” She starts to show me a yellow card for a penalty. I protest. “I thought I was supposed to cross the line.” She mutters something and says, “I give you a break.” I don’t argue and run my bike to my assigned spot on the rack… In most races I do there is a line you have to cross and then a line you don’t cross, a zone if you will. This just had one line. Okay, I get it now! Next time say something.

Run:

It is really warm but not as bad as I thought it was gonna be and certainly not as bad as it was in 2008. The run heads down to the Promenade turns right and goes for another quarter mile before you make a quick turn right, u-turn down a tunnel under the street to exit back up on the other side of the Promenade. Now it’s two loops to the airport and back. What I was most anxious about for this race was going to be this run. In July when I did IMSantaRosa70.3 I had to walk the last 5 miles of the run due to a slight calf tear I developed after moving into our new house back in June. All in all I had about 2 months where I chose not to run to let the calf completely heal up. That rest period ended only two weeks prior to arriving in Nice. I had been able to string along a ten mile run without pain but I babied my calf along the way and anytime I felt the slightest tug I’d stop, stretch, roll and slowly walk/run my way back to stride. Today, I’m running without pain but at a significant deficit in speed. Two reasons: The lack of run training and that darn big toe!!! It’s killing me with each step. I do what I can to ignore the pain. I keep running. For the second loop I allow myself to walk every other aid station. I make sure to fuel properly using the Enervite provided on course and hydrate at each one. Before long I make the final turn back to Nice and with only 3+ miles to go, I’m pretty confident I will be able to run it all the way. In the final mile it’s quite exciting. There are a ton of people lined along the street. There is a drum line banging out a cadence… The cheers are deafening! This is a World Championship and it feels like it! I enter the finishing chute. There are hands extended outward for high fives. I try to hit each one! I put a huge smile on my face and trot up the ramp under the finish banner and point to the sky! I’m done… and it was worth every bit of the pain and effort to earn all the swag that was being handed to me.

Post Race: I look for Joy. I don’t see her. I wait still no Joy… hmph? I need to go to the bathroom. Hey look! There’s my same toilet from this morning and it’s available right before grabbing my morning cloths bag. Inside the amphitheater there’s athlete food. I grab a piece of pizza… it’s pretty good but the beer was refreshing! I grabbed another one and start to find the exit… There’s Joy! But she chose not to carry around my change of cloths so she tells me to wait and she’ll run to the car and get the bag. Okay by me… by now I am limping badly as my right toe is in so much pain. I lie down in the grass under the shade of a tree and rest my eyes… soon I hear my name. Joy is back. She lets me know Susie said Barry is done with his shower and to come to their hotel room to shower. No arguments from me!!

After the shower, the four of us head over to the BrewHouse for cheeseburgers and beers! The place is buzzing with athletes and their families. We’re told it’ll probably be a while before a place for 4 opens up… just then next to us a group gets up and says, “We’re done!” We join a table with 4 Australians whose 20 something athlete is eager to compare race notes! I tell Joy I’m gonna run and grab my gear real quick and I’ll be right back since the restaurant said I could bring my bike inside. Now back, beers arrive, laughter commences, and tummies are soon full. We say our goodbyes and grab our gear as we head our separate ways but make plans for Barry and Susie to swing by Theoule the next day and join us for lunch as they take off for Provence.

Now back at the apartment… I start to unpack my gear bags. But wait!! “Joy!! Did you grab the Australian guy’s bike gear bag?” She said she just reached under the table and grabbed what was there. “oh no” I thought… How am I gonna be able to find this guy and get his helmet and shoes back to him? I look at the bag and notice the race number… “AH! I’ll look at the race roster and get a name and contact Ironman and drive it into lost and found… They’ll have his contact information.  I look at the name associated with the number 480… it’s Barry Edwards. 

Back at Hotel Beau Rivage, Barry is telling Susie, “That Australian dude took my bike gear!”

PRE RACE:
Leaving our house I did double inventory of all the things I would need for a successful race in just a couple days. The trip is only 2 hours up the 101 Freeway into Santa Rosa. Assured I had everything I needed, I soon pulled into downtown, walked to the race expo and quickly registered. I was able to spend time with one of my athletes I coach, also was racing on Saturday. Though a couple weeks prior he wasn’t sure he would be healthy enough or ready due to some personal setbacks leading into the race, I assured him all the data revealed he’d have a good day.

Since my wife, Joy was taking this Mother’s Day weekend as an opportunity to be with her mom and our oldest daughter in Kansas City, I was alone and chose to stay in a room through Airbnb. My host greeted me at the door and proved to be host extraordinaire, making sure I had everything I needed to be ready race day!

Friday morning, I prepped all my bike and run gear, went for a quick 30 min ride to be sure everything was working and feeling good and then threw on my running shoes to air the legs out one last time before resting up the remainder of the day. Then I dropped off my bike at Lake Sonoma, which had a ridiculous hike and bike having closed off the two lower parking lots! What was that all about Ironman organizers? Then I sped off into Healdsburg for lunch at the Wurst, and on to T2 to drop off my run gear. Like clockwork, all was done with no incident and I was back at Joe’s place by 4pm.

Ever since 2009, the evening prior to my race, I have a salmon dinner. I know Santa Rosa and the surrounding towns and their restaurants pretty well but was nudged by my host to consider the Santa Rosa Fish Market. YES!! Of course! They often are at local farmer’s markets in the wine country and I’ve always found their fish the best. I didn’t know they had a little grill attached and with that recommendation I made the 10 min drive over to Santa Rosa Avenue. While sitting at the bar, I pulled out my phone and proceeded to watch the Warriors Game… Made it through the first half and finished off the last half of my salmon… Dang, that was good!

Back at the house Joe and I watched the last quarter of the game. Warriors defeat Houston! I feel good! Now time to see what kind of night it will be… toss and turn or mostly sleep? The alarm is set for 4:10. Joe’s made some hard boiled eggs for me and cooks up a link of chorizo that I got from Whole Foods so it’ll be ready in the morning, telling me he makes his own chorizo and had he known because his IS the best… No bravado, stated as simple fact. But more on that later! I thanked him for all he was doing for me and his calm response was, “You’re gonna win this thing, right?” I assured him, I’d do my best!

RACE DAY:
I’m up… maybe 4 times total all night before actually having to get up at the alarm. Quietly I head downstairs with all my gear in hand, eat my breakfast of hardboiled egg/avocado toast and most of the sausage. Joe made some banana, chocolate chip bread and I have a generous slice w/ cream cheese! Stomach full, fully hydrated, keys in hand I walk out into the mild night air. There’s a quiet in the neighborhood reminding me what we do is incredibly rare and not to be taken for granted. As I drive to downtown to catch the 50 minute ride to Lake Sonoma, I begin to visualize the entire race… how the swim will feel, my pace and timing coming out of the water, running up the boat ramp, the several markers I chose on the bike course and what my wattage should be, the positive mindset I’ll need coming through T2… No walking, just running… crossing the finish line… arms up, smile on!

I drop off my run special needs bag and get on a bus. Here, while many choose to chat and let conversation distract them from nerves or awkward silence, I’m the opposite. I want quiet. I want to talk to myself. It’s the most important conversation of the day, one that needs to be positive and a conversation you look back on during the rest of the day when it’s easy to think otherwise. Here I begin the dialogue… “Daniel, how bad do you want it?” I don’t answer right away. I just let the question sit there for a bit. Then again, “Hey! How bad do you want it?”

“Really bad.” I tell myself. “Then don’t settle, do your best, you know you’ve done all you needed to do. Now… go do it!”

For the remainder of the day this question would repeat itself over and over again… “Dan, how bad do you want it?”

Transition – My number is 149. I’m staged right in front of the bike exit. I check my tires, gearing, brakes are clear and not rubbing (had a little issue with that at Oceanside 70.3 a few weeks prior). My T1 bag is accessible, I get body marked, visit the porta-potty, throw on my wetsuit, grab goggles, drop off my morning cloths bag… let’s get in line!

Swim: I stage myself in the 1:10 corral and do the foot-shuffle as we waddle our way to the front. Next thing I know, the 1:20 corral marker steps in front of me and I wonder what just happened? Regardless, I just think it’s you and the water. Time is time. Checking my watch, it’s just about 6:45am and I’m three people back at five second intervals, sending 5 people at a time. Goggles on… beep, beep, beep, beep, boooooop! Running, I’m in. Horizontal, arms begin the windmill motion. Water feels great and is fairly calm. It’s a two-loop swim, I sight every sixth stroke, keep it steady don’t go too hard, relax, reach, roll. Every 500 yards my watch buzzes to let me know progress. I won’t really know how things are going until I exit the water after the first loop before jumping back in on the second. There’s a thick marine layer blocking the sun. I’ve chosen my Roka R1 amber lenses that are perfect. No leaks, no fogging, great choice. As I exit my time is just at 33 min. Good!! Right where I want to be. I hear Eric, the race announcer mention my name as I run by him to dive back in. For the next 1000 yards it’s smooth and calm… then we start to run into all the slow swimmers who started last in the rolling start: Lot’s of back stroking, breast stroking just treading water. Ugh! This is frustrating to navigate around objects (people!).

As always just in the final 200 yards I’ll tell myself to enjoy this last little bit of the swim because it’s the calmest part of the day. Once you’re out of the water, it’s on! Total Swim time: 1:10:28

T1: As I start up the boat ramp I’ve already removed my goggles and cap but I cannot seem to get my wetsuit off of my left arm. It is stuck on my watch. This is a first! I’m tugging and tugging. I have to stop and put down my goggles and cap to free my hand to surgically get under the watch… what the heck!? Finally free, I run up to the wetsuit strippers and gladly let them do the rest. Running up I grab my bag (myself… with a volunteer just standing there. I guess the guy on the bullhorn calling out my # had no impact on this high school girl). I run into the change tent and get a chair right in front of the exit. It’s the driest surface allowing me to put on socks and run out without them getting wet. I put my shoes on at my bike and head out. Total time in transition: 5:45

Bike: I had arm warmers ready incase the temperature was still in the low 50’s but it felt warm enough, however the decent out of the lake IS cold enough but over quickly. It’s the slow climb over Dutcher Creek that warms you up… first marker! Check watts… nothing over 265! That’s threshold plus 10… I’m good. Quickly forming a group of people trading positions… no cheating! Keep your distance everyone! Drop back if passed. Of course there are always folks who violate this. Into Alexander Valley there’s a slight tail wind, the clouds start to reveal some blue sky. On to Chalk Hill Rd. I know this like the back of my hand… marker 2… Watts will spike on the steep kicker up… 300 no more! Here’s where it got interesting… There were two ladies on the Zoot team riding up the hill together as I passed them. Then on the decent they came by me, wheel to wheel. From here on out I refer to them as 39 and 42 (the ages written on their calves). It appeared that 39 was doing most of the work! There was no attempt to even mask this blatant tandem. Watching my watts and riding my race plan (sustained avg. power on flats 210-215) we stayed together; occasionally I’d pass them, occasionally, they’d pass me. Once on Shilo Rd. 42 took a pull, it’s also where the penalty tent was where I noticed a marshal listing violations. I thought. “I wonder if they saw that too?” Here the road gets really rough! So rough you have to get out of aero bars and hold on for life! It wasn’t until Westside Rd, heading back up valley I saw the sisters again. First 39 and then 42 flew by! Hmmmm? I thought, did she just get caught for drafting? Well, now with this burst of power off they went. Still riding my power plan, I’m taking in nutrition and water, 200 calories and 32 ounces per hour respectively. My legs feel good. Nothing seems fatigued. “How bad do you want this?”

Now finishing the loop on the bike it’s time to take Slusser Rd. over to Sebastopol. But wait… the penalty tent! Yup, as suspected… 42 is there waiting out her 5 minute penalty (I will pass 39 in just a few more miles)! Out here there is a really strong cross headwind. I watch my power and check my legs for lactic acid buildup. They feel loose and I’m already starting to think about the run. Just a few more miles through the neighborhoods, we roll into town, I exit my bike shoes I as I coast to a stop at the dismount line and hand off my bike to a stranger! Total bike time 5:34:12

T2: It’s at least a 10th of a mile to the change tent. This time my bag IS handed to me and I make my way into the tent… I grab nutrition, electrolytes, my visor, race belt and glasses and start my run… “Alright!” I literally say out loud as I make the right hand turn out of transition, “Let’s go get em.” Transition time: 2:57

Run: One of the good things about racing for as many years as I have, is you get to know who your competition is. Coming off the bike I pretty much had determined there were two guys ahead of me because they are faster swimmers and would have seeded themselves well ahead of me at the start. But I knew I was the better runner of the three of us. It wasn’t a matter of if, in my mind, it was a matter of where I would pick them off! Then no more than a quarter of a mile into the run, just approaching “Hot Corner” I look down and see “61” on a calf. He’s definitely not going fast. Without a word, I breeze by. One down, one to go!

The one to go, is a multiple Kona Qualifier, I had just bested him in Oceanside a few weeks prior and I figured if I could catch him between mile 7 – 12 even if we ran together, I’d still win on overall time since I started later. At the first mile marker my watch buzzed, I looked down to see I was running at 7:35 pace! Whoa there Nelly! Slow down! My heart rate was at 140 and I needed to drop it to 137 but I was happy at that pace it wasn’t much higher… this was a good sign.

The run along the river trail is awesome. Mostly gravel, tree-lined and shaded. The sound of the creek, soothing… the sound of the aid stations, not so much! Passing through the second aid station just after mile two, I look up and there’s my “one to go!” I’m still running sub 8 min pace now at target heart rate. I can see he will not be able to match my pace and I pass him with the kinda pace that says, “notta chance buddy.”

Between mile 4 and 5 there is a little out and back section that’s a little over 4/10s of a mile. Here, I tell myself will be an opportunity to see how much distance I made on him. I make the 180-degree turn and start looking for him. I run all the way back and see him just having entered. I’ve made some serious ground. Again, back in town at the turn around and start of the 2nd loop of the marathon, as soon as I pass the entrance to the river trail I check my watch, make the turn as Eric the race announcer let’s everyone know the “Running Reverend, Dan Perkins from San Jose, just killing out there today!” I start watching again and as I see him just before entering the river trail, quickly calculate I’ve now a 4+ minute lead on him.

My pace has dropped my heart rate steady at the out and back of loop 2 no sight of my nearest competitor. Same at the turnaround where I grab my traditional Gummy Bears from my special needs bag. (for those of you who don’t know… Gummy Bears do not have any nutritional value but they are an attitude adjuster. Why? Because you can’t eat gummy bears with a bad attitude!) Now, I don’t see him at all. So, as my hips are starting to ache and I’ve dropped to a 9 minute mile pace I realize that the shorts I’m wearing are really loose and I can feel discomfort in places you don’t want to be uncomfortable. So, I decide to walk the aid stations, stretch, adjust a few things and make sure I get plenty of fluids. At the final out and back I decide to start drinking Coke and Red Bull for a pick-me-up. Kinda does the trick and when it starts to feel good in the 50 yards I’m walking I start asking, again and again… “How bad do you want this?” Very bad! I tell myself and begin the run again.

As I come back off the trail and now onto the street with a half a mile to go, I am thinking of so many people; my wife, my girls… my athletes I coach, all my coworkers at WestGate, people I’ve trained and raced with these past 17 years. All the folks at ZERO Cancer cheering me on… and I think of all the conversations with folks I’ll have after this race. The pain slips away, the pace picks up. I remember to zip up my race singlet and enjoy every step into the finish shoot. I can hear Eric’s voice… “And here he comes!” I throw my arms in the air, not having to put a smile on my face; it’s already there. I cross the line. Hit my watch and tell myself, “That’s how bad I wanted it!”

It wasn’t my fasted time (still 10 years after my PR I’ve only lost about 30 minutes) but it was my favorite time!

My friends Pete and Cindi rush up to me. They’re so happy for me and… they let me know, “You’re in first place!” What I thought I knew was just confirmed and I knew this time… no one would change that in the minutes to come. I had raced my best race, knowing that everything I put into the physical and mental preparation had paid of. Total Run time: 3:55:13

Total Race Time: 10:48:35

POST RACE:
Pete and Cindi helped me get warm, collect my gear, waited for me to get a massage and walked my crap to the car… They were awesome. Later they suggested and met me at the Russian River Brewery facility in Windsor and bought me dinner (tradtion is, a Cheeseburger and a beer!)… Thank you!

I got back to the house and Joe was there… “Well?” he asked. Casually I state, “I got 1st.” He fist bumped me. I tell him to not laugh at me as I attempt to walk up and down the stairs! He obliges.

The next morning I pack (w/ Joe’s help) all my gear into the car. I head to the awards ceremony wearing a TEAM ZERO jacket only to exit the car and be confronted by two blondes wearing Team Zoot jackets… Oh my, it’s 39 and 42! I want to say something so bad but I bite my tongue!

The awards ceremony was awesome. When it came time to receive my trophy, I waited to be the last person announced onto the stage to take the top spot. This has happened for me in Olympic and 70.3 races before but THIS is my first Ironman win! While standing there… Mr. One to Go asked me, “Are you taking the slot?” Later getting the first right to refuse the one and only Kona slot in our age group, I gladly raised my hand when Eric said, “Dan… Going to Kona?” With a nod and thumbs up, his response was, “Good. I know how much you wanted it.”

A couple last thoughts… My athlete who wasn’t sure about whether he could actually do the race, but did… finished! And PR’d (personal record) by an hour! Then today, I left for a trip to Dallas. Last week, post race, I had to go to Denver. This morning I had a mid morning flight and enough time to make a big breakfast. I pull out Joe’s chorizo! I’m not gonna lie. He said his is the best. So, next time I see him… He’s gonna get a fist bump from me!

Next up Hawaii 70.3

First thing Joy and I did after we parked our car was walk over to the King Kamehameha Beach Hotel to register. As usual, it is a very well organized process that respects the athletes for achieving the honor of racing the Ironman World Championship. Next up, lunch! So, we walked to the first beachside restaurant where we were promptly seated and ordered fish tacos and a Mai Tai (it’s tradition!). From there we walked over to the race expo and took a look around. I was hoping to see a large Specialized booth as in years past to ask about my bike’s sticky brakes but not only was there no large booth there was NO booth and Specialized was nowhere to be found! Crud… I’m gonna have to deal with these brakes on my own.

Now that our pre-race curiosity had been resolved it was time to go to Costco and grab our food and then check into our little cottage studio up Palani Rd., which we had booked through Airbnb. The place was perfect for our prerace headquarters being up 1500 feet and averaging 10 degrees cooler than Kailua just four miles down the road. As we arrived our host was waiting for us and greeted us with lei’s. The studio itself was charming with its own outdoor patio and barbeque and on the counter was a bottle of sparkling wine and two champagne flutes. “For your anniversary!” stated Naomi, who also provided fresh avocados off of her tree informing us we could have as many as we wanted. As it came time to dress for dinner both of us just decided to grill a couple of the steaks we purchased earlier and get to bed as it had been a long day.

The next couple of days were the typical preparations for race day. Coupled with a little bit of swimming out from DigMe Beach to the tune up ride along the Queen K and an easy run along Ali’i. I was able to talk with a mechanic who fixed my brakes (correctly) and with a general inspection told me I was good to go… Thursday afternoon we had an IronPrayer Service and afterwards we endured the Welcome Banquet food and the mandatory athlete meeting. The day before the race it was bike and gear check in. This is quite the ordeal as you are paraded by a couple dozen folks with clipboards and cameras who document all of your gear for sponsors and vendors. As I walked by the ENVE tent someone yelled out, “Thanks for riding our wheels!” and handed me a huge custom printed beach towel! Now with bike and gear bags in one hand and beach towel consuming my other (did I mention this thing is massive?), I make it onto the pier where I’m greeted by a volunteer who escorts me to my bike location #460. It is on the end of the row at the final turn out of transition… as my friend Kyle said, it was “Pole Position!” Now with bike and gear checked Joy and I head back to the cottage for the remainder of the day for “Feet Up,” a command from coach Amanda! Dinner would be grilled Ono with a couscous salad and avocado with plenty of water to assure at least one trip to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

Alarms set for 4am – we are in bed, lights out at 8pm. I sleep, sort of, and have wild dreams of missing a flight for Ironman St. Louis! Btw – there is no such thing as Ironman St. Louis.

RACE DAY:

The alarm goes off on Joy’s side of the bed first. Then mine… she’s made the coffee and is in the bathroom getting ready for the long day. I methodically, put on my race kit, heart-rate strap and timing chip. I eat my two hardboiled eggs and sausage with a little avocado. I’m nervous but I force myself to eat. I grab my special needs and early morning cloths bags and head outside… it’s warm and muggy and I don’t need the extra t-shirt I put on to keep me warm. As we drive down Palani I remind Joy how to get out to the airport later in the morning to pick up our friends Sean and Kristin. We walk to the parking lot of the King K Beach Hotel where I am body marked by fellow SVTC teammate Kathy!

In transition I am positioned right by a row of porta-johns and easily get my business done before the lines begin to form. Bike is checked, water bottles are placed and I’m now left with about an hour to just sit and wait. So, I walk over to the grassy section of the hotel beach and find a place to just sit and pray. I look up as the sun starts to come up over the Hualalai, which provides an epic sunrise! Soon we hear the NBC Sports helicopter in the distance… telling us age grouper it’s time to get in the water.

Swim:

It takes about 15 minutes to get in the water as the narrow entry onto DigMe, jams up with athletes. Finally on the beach I put my ROKA R1 goggles on and make my way out to the midway point of the start line where I place myself about 3 guys back off the front. We tread water for about 10 minutes. In the final minute the row of marching surfboards, which holds the line starts to push back the front two rows and now we’re in a congested mess as we’re all shoulder-to-shoulder smacking each other. We hear Mike Reilly say, “Have a great day out there boys!” and the surfboards stop and turn forward as to open the door and “Boom!” I hit my watch and off we go.

As always for this mass start, it stays very congested and you have to find a rhythm with other swimmers to keep pace and to not panic. As we’re about 300 meters into the swim I notice my right armpit is getting a nasty rub from my Team ZERO sleeved jersey. I hadn’t thought it might cause a rub and thereby coat my armpit with Body Glide. Dumb, dumb, dumb… I tug on the sleeve. No relief. “Oh well,” I tell myself, “I’m gonna have to gut out the discomfort and ignore the pain.” As I approach the Body Glove boat at the turn around it’s still a solid group of guys swimming together and making the right hand turn wasn’t as easy as in years past. Now over to the other boat, about 100 meters away we turn into the straight 1.2 miles return trip to shore. I check my watch. It says 32 something… wow! That made me happy and helped the pain go away only for a brief moment. But wait… now I sense a good amount of chop to my right letting me know there was a nice current kicking us out and will now have to be fought through heading back. There are a few familiar guys who had been swimming with me pretty much the entire swim and we continue to hold pace. At about 400 meters from the pier a guys starts to swim across the front of me… “Where’s he going?” I’m thinking or, “Where am I going?” Now not sure… I pull up. Yes he’s wrong, I’m right, I’ve a perfect line to the edge of the pier… I begin to tell myself, enjoy this last bit of calm… I’m approaching the steps. Folks on the pier are cheering… I find my fingers drag the sand and I stand and run up the steps hitting my watch for T1… yup… current for sure. Total Swim Time: 1:11:49 (my fastest Kona swim to date)

Bike:

Getting through T1 is a little congested and it takes some time to get my gear out and on as well as placing all swim gear in my bag… this is normally assisted by a volunteer but for some reason… I was left to myself. Coming out of the change tent I look for sunscreen and Vaseline and put the Vaseline inside my armpit!! That felt better but I could tell my armpit was raw meat at this point. Running round the pier to my bike is not a short run and it’s slick. Grabbing my bike, I place my helmet and glasses on my head and run out to the mount line. I’m quickly up to “hot corner” and moving through several folks. The out and back on Kuakini Hwy is tempered and I tell myself to stay calm. Coming to the bottom of the descent I look ahead and notice a small pickup truck is let on the road to be directed over to Hualalai Rd but as I start to pass on the right thinking he’s going to turn left, he heads straight into the closed and narrow bike lane almost hitting me and now driving down the closed bike course. People are screaming at this guy to get off the road but he seems more pissed that we’re all out there like we’re the crazy ones! A police officer flags him down… yes!

Now on the Queen K heading north the pace starts to get pretty fast. Remember Dan, don’t be a hero to Hawi! Steady, be patient, you don’t know what’s out there. And in typical form as soon as we pass the Veteran’s Cemetery Rd. the winds start to gust in our faces… the closer we get to the resorts in Waikoloa the windier it gets. So much so, many of us are getting pushed around the road holding a 12 mph pace. After making the turn off the Queen K it’s a 20-mile, rolling up hill journey. Here, in Kawaihae, I notice the helicopter ahead and know the lead guys are soon going to fly by. And boy did they! As soon as I got to the turn there was a group of about 10 pursuing the leader. It would be a couple miles before I saw the next group. Thgen about half way up I saw the first female leader and then a steady stream of the fasted age groupers appeared. Feeling good the winds were steady and predictable coming from the northeast. The closer to Hawi the winds became much stronger and direct. Getting round the end in Hawi Town is always exciting as the crowds are fun and abundant…

It only takes a mile or so out of town to start the nice descent with the tailwind. Here, you can recover a bit while still gaining some ground on the bike. As we travel back, I’m hoping the winds that were pushing us back on the QK will actually help us along in the opposite fashion. And to a certain extent they did but not entirely. By the time we’re past the resorts at Waikoloa the winds were coming from the makai (ocean side) only occasionally providing a little assistance. During the bike I had been consistent to drink a full 36 ounces of water per hour as well as eat between 90-180 calories per hour (Hammer Gel and bananas) as planned. I have no stomach issues and I’ve had the need to pee at least twice on the bike. In other words things were feeling fine. However, as I approached the airport, I really wanted to get off the bike. I calculated my remaining time till I couldd feel the pitter-patter of my feet and realized it’s not a great bike split; perhaps reflective of my lack of long training rides this year. Coming into T2 it’s crazy at “hot corner” and I get a little jolt of energy. Handing off my bike… “Ahhhh! Relief.” Total Bike Time: 5:55:48

Run:

As I exit transition I take on some water and will wait until the first aid station to take a Clif Shot (which is the nutrition on course and I had been using the last two weeks leading into the race so my body could adjust to it). As I stretch my legs out I feel great and am excited to get in a good marathon. At first I realize I’m running fast… too fast. So I slow it down past “hot corner” and realize I’m a bit light headed but think nothing of it, as it is pretty hot and humid. I get to Ali’I and calm my pace even more…. First mile split buzzes on my watch. 8:15! Yep too fast for this day. I get to the aid station; take a Clif Shot and plenty of water. I start to feel even more light headed, woozy, in fact. This is new! I slow down even further. Next mile split, 8:45. Approaching mile three my heart rate is 138 and my breathing is good. It’s just my head… I’m so dizzy! I’m only three miles into my run and I’m thinking I’m about to pass out! WTHey! I don’t want to be THAT GUY who they pull off the course first and throw into the med tent so I tell myself “Walk!” What? It’s only mile 3 I think… “Walk dang it!” I’m telling myself use wisdom and if you have to you can walk the entire marathon to finish. The key here is finishing! I walk a bit, run a bit being sure to get enough water in at each aid station. As I look up the road I notice I’m not the only one walking early. There are plenty of folks, even a couple Every Man Jack guys which shocks me. Even found an EMJ guy behind me walking. This tells me it’s a tougher day than I realize and the winds may have taken their toll on much of the field.

At this point one other thought is continuously running through my mind. Not since hearing my name going past the airport on the bike out toward Hawi have I seen Joy. I’m all the way down Ali’I and still no sight of her and our friends. Running down toward Hugo’s I hear my name but it’s our friends Johnny and Jennie and their kids, I stop for a brief hello! Johnny says he’s gonna try and catch me later up the road! As I come off Ali’I for some reason I’m feeling really bonky and am considering what it might mean if I can’t complete the race… this really bothers me and I just tell myself all you have to do is just keep moving forward; walk, run or crawl… keep moving!

As I start my way up Palani Rd, I see Joy, Sean and Kristin. Yay! This gives me a boost. I stop for a moment, say hello and let them know how I’m feeling. “Really struggling here!” They’re encouraging, except Sean who whispers in my ear… “I didn’t fly 3500 miles to watch you walk.” He laughs, “You’ll watch me walk this hill!” I whisper back without a laugh and keep going. At the top of the hill I start running again and take it all the way down to the next aid station. 9:45 split. Good. But this section of the road is long and I’m not even half way through the marathon. John finds me again walking at the Harbor… He walks with me a bit and prays for me. I gain composure and run to the next aid station. As I approach the Energy Lab I realize I’m off pace from the 11:35 I did in 2012 and will be well over 12 hours if I continue at this pace…. “Don’t worry about it… just finish.” I tell myself!

In the Energy Lab I get my Special Needs bag filled with my typical Gummy Bears and a couple extra gel packets, which happen to be GU Roctane. Immediately I take one because I don’t like the taste of the Clif Shots and a few minutes later I’m not as light headed as I had been. At the top and back on the Queen K I take the next one at the next aid station… again, I’m feeling a little better… I start running. I run to the next aid station. I walk it taking on more water and notice the sun is going into the ocean. “Not gonna be a daylight finish today.” I whisper to myself. I’ve got 5 more miles to go and it’ll be dark in just three miles. But I start running again and find with my newfound strength I’ll be able to run the entire way back with exceptions of walking the aid stations (skipping Palani). As I start down Palani, I hear friend, Dale say, “Welcome back Dan!” For the past two miles I’d been running with a guy who stayed just two or three yards ahead of me the entire way… we run all the way to Ali’I and then, I slow for a bit to pay homage to Tom in front of Uncle Billy’s, then pray and reflect on my friend Mel who journeyed with us on our first trip to Kona and joined us for IMFrance and IMCoeurd‘Alene and who went home to be with Jesus two weeks ago… 400 meters to go and much goes through your mind in this final stretch of road. As I come around the banyan tree the finish is clearly in sight! The lights are bright and all I see is a long row of silhouetted hands reaching out for high-fives. Little did I know that one of those hands I hit would be my wife’s!

As has been my practice all year, encouraged by my coach, I finish with a huge smile on my face. It doesn’t reflect the disappointment I feel for such a hard day on the run but I kept moving forward, one foot in front of the other, I didn’t have to crawl and I smile because, regardless of the time… I did it. Total Run Time: 5:05:04

Total Race Time: 12:22:46

In review and reflection, I think several factors contributed to my tough day. First, I’m still getting back to form from having broken my hip the year before. My coach, who has a medical degree as well as being one of the top American female professional Ironman Triathletes, told me that this year would be less volume and intensity as to keep me healthy through the year and to avoid significant set backs. Second, I should never have used the Clif products. I know what works for me and the GU “pick-me-up!” proved it. Finally, I have noticed those who do late season Ironman races (like Coeur d ‘Alene six weeks prior to Kona) do not typically do well. They simply have not fully recovered and for me, with IMCdA and then IMSantaCruz70.3 just weeks apart, I wasn’t as sharp as I needed to be for this race… on this day!

Lastly, let me add to the end of this report for the end of this season… We had a really nice time in Hawaii – post race!! Good friends, good food and good rest are a recipe for a great vacation… we had that!
There are many people to thank. First, All of those at ZERO Cancer who helped make this all possible. Their work on behalf of so many men and their families to provide hope and assistance during their fight against this disease is making a huge difference. I want to say “Thanks!” to all those who contributed to ZERO on my behalf. Thank you to my WestGate Church family who allow me the joy and freedom to do this. Thank you to my fellow triathletes at SVTC and FCA-E who partner and encourage me along the way. Finally, thanks to my family who have sacrificed the most, which is held together by the one who is the queen of sacrifice, who always puts others before herself especially me… to Joy, mahalo… I can’t do this without you.

The race was held on July 10^th. The day of our first daughter’s birth and it just happened to be her 30^th birthday! Both of our girls were in town for her birthday as well as their grandmother (Joy’s mom, Kathy). During the lead up to the race we checked into our typical accommodations at the World Mark, just two miles away from Windsor High School, where the race concludes. The day before were the typical prerace workouts… swim at Johnston’s Beach at morning start time, a little tune up on the bike and a short run to activate the legs. Then it was off to the expo to check in, drop off T2 gear and get a few last minute supplies needed the next day for the race.

One important factor that cannot be overlooked at this point of the story is this race, Vineman 70.3 was the race I was preparing for last year when I crashed on a 90+mile training ride, just weeks prior, and broke my hip. That devastating event, causing me to enjoy 3 ½ months on crutches with the notion that I may never run again, had me so focused to return here that it was constantly on my mind through the year. Now… it’s about to happen.

RACE DAY

I get up at the usual time, 4:45am, have my bullet proof coffee, two hard boiled eggs and three strips of bacon… Good to go! Sara and her friend Erin, join me and actually drive me out to the race start at Johnston’s Beach. Soon afterward and getting settled into Transition; Joy, Aubrey and Kathy arrive. This year, now that WTC owns the Vineman brand and races, there are a few changes. Most notably is the new configuration to T1. Instead of the bike racks lining perpendicular to the river they are actually parallel to it. We all seemed to agree this was much nicer, allowing for multiple ways of exit rather than the crowded one row.

Swim:

I’m heading out with my Age Group (55-59) about half way through the wave starts. As done many times before, just before I head off, I jump in the river just behind the dam and swim for about 4 min. The water is just around 72 degrees and wearing my ROKA sleeveless wetsuit, I feel really comfortable.

Now through the start corral and in the water it’s time to line up and mark the direction for the first 400 meters to the bridge. There is no overcast and the sun will play a factor. So I line up just inside the shade line from the south facing trees along the riverbank. 3, 2, 1 “horn!” We’re off… quite calm and relaxed, I stay on the edge of the shadow so I can easily see ahead. It’s not till the river veers to the right that we lose the shade and now the river ahead is just one big glare! I did have on polarized goggles that actually cut the glare down enough to spot the buoys ahead as silhouetted triangles jutting up from the water. Getting further up river we’re now passing through a lot of slower swimmers from earlier waves and I’m constantly bumping into feet and hands. As we approach the turn the river get extremely shallow, so much so I do what I don’t like doing and that is to stand up and walk around the turn but the depth was about 2 feet and there wasn’t much choice. Now around and back in a horizontal position I start swimming to T1, with the current. Again more slower peeps! The exit from the water is really well marked from previous years now that the wine barrels no longer mark the spot replaced by a large ROKA arch. Running up and quickly lying down, I strip my wetsuit and then head to my bike. Total Swim time: 31:24

Bike:

After a pretty smooth T1, I’m at the bottom of the little hill out of T1 that many people opt to run/walk their bikes up. This time there were a lot doing just that but I stayed to the left and clipped in and rode up as I’ve done this race so many times I know the rhythm. Now up on River Rd. It’s a matter of getting used to the cool morning air in a wet tri-kit. I listen to the whirl of my race wheels and remind myself not to go hard and to race my race, not someone else’s race. Since my accident a year ago, getting fitness and speed back has been a slow journey and I’m not expecting to be as fast as two years ago when I won my age group but I do hope to race smart and at least capture a top 5 finish

Through most of the rolling terrain on Westside Rd. I am continuing to pass people, including my friend Cherie Gruenfeld, where we exchange hello’s and good wishes. It wasn’t until almost exchanging over to Dry Creek Rd did some of the faster guys in later wave starts begin to pass me. Then I noticed a 57 on the calf of a person slowly passing me. He gets a head a bit and I find myself pushing back past him. Then another guy who goes by the both of us… We let him go but the two 57 year old dudes continued to exchange places for several miles till Canyon Rd. Here I decide the pace is too much to keep for me to run well so I let him go, hoping it’s too much for him and his run will fall apart (it wont… but it does for the other guy!). Now in Alexander Valley, I just enjoy the beauty of the vineyards and familiar roads I know from this race and wine tasting here for years. Next comes Chalk Hill Rd. where the short but steep climb gives me a usual advantage since I know how to pace up this hill and enjoy the fast decent all the way over to Shiloh Rd. Then it’s academic getting through the industrial area, past the World Mark and into the high school. Total bike time: 2:39:23

Run:

Coming into transition where I rack my bike I’m all alone, typically a good sign but I don’t know how many of the All World Athletes are in who have lower numbers, so I’m just going to have to pay attention out on the road and make my best guess. As I leave T2 I immediately see my girls!! That puts wind in my sails! The crowds were great and I pass the place where I stood with my crutches most of last year cheering on my friends… now they’re cheering me. There’s the SVTC group. High fives, Isa sees me go by and chases me down for a picture. Smiles this is awesome. I feel good and the temps are perfect for a sunny day!!

Now according to race plan, Coach Amanda has me eating only about 90 calories an hour up to this point. I increase it to 180 and will start to enjoy coke and Red Bull at mile 6 or 7 depending on how I feel. Through the rollers I can tell my pace is slowing from the earlier 7:30 to about 8:15. After exiting the La Crema Vineyards, I am heading toward the airport turnaround and notice Mr.57… I know who that is… I’m not going to catch him as he’s got a good ½ mile lead on me, then I see Mr. Big Guy who passed the both of us. He’s running slow, I think I can catch him… Then I look up and see another 58 on a calf ahead who’s struggling… Definitely catching him, and do so easily. Another half mile up and I pass 58. Four miles to go, I’m holding on and start to feel the fatigue but I keep pushing… past the last aid station it’s about a mile and a half to the high school. I keep pushing… Then as we get back to the neighborhood with about a half-mile left, I notice a presence coming to my left; it’s Mr. 58!!! He’s either got his legs back or I’m not doing as well as I thought… turns out it’s the latter. I was on pace to break 5 hours but now it’s gonna be close and in an instant I think, “Heck no!” He’s not gonna beat me, it may mean being on or off the podium so I just hit it! Hard!! I want to go by him with so much power he can’t answer my surge. And for the next 3 minutes I run full out not looking back until I get in the final shoot toward the finish. I hear all kinds of cheers for the herculean effort. Is he there? Behind me? NO! I cross the finish line and almost collapse! That was the hardest finish to any race I’ve done. Run time 1:45:30

Total Race Time: 5:00:53 5^th AG

As it turns out that last effort was the difference of being on the podium… So, goal reached, comeback race in the memory books as one of the greatest for me personally. So much to be thankful for! We grab gear, go back and shower, head to the awards ceremony and then off to La Crema Winery for post race celebration! One year in the making… Don’t know what I’m writing about? Read THIS.

Occasionally, I go to these races solo. Unfortunately, Joy has a life too! Just kidding; that would be fortunately!! So, having been to CdA 10 years ago when I first did this race she opted out knowing we had other travel ahead (where I am currently writing this from 30K’ in the air on the way to the Big Island of Hawaii… yup IM World Championships on Saturday!).

Trying my best to do this race on the cheap and not take up too much time away from Joy. I fly up Wednesday into Spokane, grab my rental car and head to CdA and my Airbnb stay with Grant and Ashley, who were fabulous hosts and accommodated my schedule, tolerated the weird way of eating for this triathlete and graciously pointed me in every direction off the beaten path to restaurants, stores, etc.

On Thursday, I go over to the City Park and register… get my run shoes on and head out for a six mile run along the lake. Ah, yes… I remember this place. This is exactly where I melted down 10 years ago on a very hot day, dehydrated and lost a 5 minute lead in my age group at mile 14 of the run when I almost quit! Walking 9 of the remaining 12 miles I ended up with an 13^th place finish at just 11 hours and a few seconds. I’m hoping to redeem that day!

RACE DAY

4am… alarm! Kit on, breakfast ready, I quietly exit not wanting to disturb my hosts. I had scoped out my parking spot the day before when I checked in my bike to Transition. It only took 8 minutes to find my parking space perfectly preserved and ready and right across the street from City Park. Grabbing my morning cloths bag and run special needs bag I walk in the dark with about 20 people all converging to the entrance to transition. My location was in a perfect spot along the fence line allowing me a straight shot to the bike out avoiding a lot of the congestion in the center of transition. Checked on both bike and run gear bags making sure everything was there, I made a trip to the porta-potty… do my duty, don wetsuit, grab cap and goggles and check bike one more time. Everything is good.

Swim:

It’s a rolling start (time trial) so I need to decide where to place myself. I opt for the front of the 1hour 10-minute group. The sky is clear and temps and predicted to get into the mid 90’s later in the day. After the singing of the national anthem, the gun goes off and the long line of wetsuit clad people start to enter the water for this two loop swim, which includes a dry land exit before entering the water again for loop two.

I go across the timing mat. I hit my watch to start my personal time and in the water I go!! The rolling starts are a lot more calm then the mass starts I’ve been accustomed to over the years. This one seemed nice and easy until the first turn, then a massive bunch up. “Patience,” I tell myself, “it’s a long day!” I get around and heading back to shore notice it’s not as choppy as going out. I breath to my right and see the sun is yet to come up over the ridge but it’ll be there next time through but at this point my new ROKA R1’s are killing it with clear sighting and color delineation! Exiting the first loop I notice a :32: something and am really happy with that. Now back into the water for a do over and there are fewer people to contend with. I swim out make the turn and oh!!! I can’t see. That sun is right there in our eyes. I just follow hands splashing in front of me and eventually I see the big red blob. Make the turn and keep my head down. Soon, I hear the announcer and follow the feet in front of me. Seems like a good pace. I exit the water in 1:08… argh!! What happened? Oh well… I run up onto the grass, where people are yelling to run to them so they can strip your wetsuit. “Get down!” a volunteer yells. I put on the brakes; heals down to stop running. But the ground is wet and my feet sweep out from under me and like a cartoon character I slip with feet flailing and land right on my tailbone! OUCH!!! That hurt. I get up, wetsuit in hand and run to my gear bag and into the change tent… I sit, “Dang!! That hurts.” Getting shoes and helmet the volunteer heads off with some of my nutrition, thinking that’s all I have, it doesn’t dawn on me until he’s gone! Oh well. Total swim time: 1:09:26

Bike:

This is a different course from when I first did this race. The first ten miles are familiar but then it heads south on Hwy 95 with some good steady climbing. I pre-rode some of it to get a feel for the grade; nothing severe, just long and steady. I’m doing okay but my butt! Every pedal stroke sends a shiver up my spine. I’m hoping it settles down, eventually I get numb to it. I make the turn around and realize, I’m 23 miles from town. Well, let’s go. For the most part the ride is uneventful back until the decent of the road back to the lake where it is fast non-technical. Here if you’re not paying attention you could easily crash… and dang… someone did. We’re slowed diverted around. Oh, that doesn’t look good. I just keep going.

Now starting the second loop there is a noticeable wind coming from the south. Which doesn’t seem too bad until we’re back on 95! “What the H!” Wind and climbing, not a great combo and this will be the case for the next 23 miles!!! We’re like snails getting to the turn around but once there oh, this is gonna be a fast ride back home! And it was. Although I will admit I was truly happy to get back on my feet… my butt was saying “NO more!”

Total bike time: 5:57:19

Run:

Again, the run is different than when I did it in ’06. Instead of running through town on your way out for a two-loop course you head out through the City Park for a three loop run, most of which is familiar. At first I’m feeling okay, but I’d been doubting my run readiness having done a lot less volume than I had been used to. But the one thing that seemed to be more troublesome was the sore tailbone, now getting the jarring of each step. But I keep going.

The temps don’t seem to be all that bad. The winds were a factor blowing cooler air off the lake. I complete the first 8 ½ mile loop using it as a gage for how to pace the rest of the run, but by the time I get to the turn around of loop two I find myself beginning to breath with increasing labor. This reminded me of Wisconsin in 2010 where I wound up in the med tent for 3 hours after loosing 16 lbs on race day. Not wanting to repeat that I start to walk the aid stations to lower my heart rate and get some extra fluids in me. I start with the Red Bull and get a little pick up.

At this point Grant and Ashley have been my only on course support and they are encouraging each time I see them (always in a different place). I see them now heading back on the second loop and let them know things are starting to really hurt. Soon I find myself walking longer sections and run/walking for quite some time. Knowing where the up hills are worth walking and slight down hills worth running.

Starting the third loop, I notice the sky starts to turn color and the clear blue turns orange. Off in the distance a fire has started and the winds are bringing the smoke overhead, and soon a pale light covers the course. Here, I grab my special needs bag and grab my gummy bears. As I start to eat them I chat it up with the spectators hoping to adjust my attitude as self talk starts to creep in. Quickly I remember this is Ironman… a year ago, I was on the couch wondering if I’d ever be able to run again… and here I am. So, I run. When I could, the pace wasn’t bad but then I’d find myself back to a walk… “Come on Dan, just keep going!”

Remembering back in 2006, I had been walking most of that second loop. I remembered seeing my then coach Mitch, riding up ahead on a cruiser and used that as my motivation to run the final three miles. So, I committed to do the same this year. It wasn’t easy but by the time I got to the City Park exit where Grant and Ashley were I knew I only had a half-mile to the finish line! As I made the final left hand turn onto Sherman it’s a downhill finish, the crowds are loud, I’m alone… I hear the announcer say, here comes our Iron Reverend, from San Jose, California… that’s a first! The finish chute narrows and I high five and fist pump… I’m back, I am once again an Ironman!! Total run time: 4:24:40

Total Race time: 11:39:39 10^th AG

When I reflect on this race, one thing often comes to mind… “I left everything out on the course.” It was one of, if not, the hardest Ironman I have done and I’m not sure why… could be many factors; still working on fitness, my tailbone, conditions… I honestly don’t know. One thing I am sure of, I still love doing this race. I love the lifestyle it allows me, one of recreation and beauty, one of grit and determination, one of health and youthfulness… one of experiencing the essence of life in such a short time; a single day!

As we approach the black lava of the Big Island. This time spent in reflection will help motivate and guide me… I hope the posts along the way here on Ironman Faith will do the same for you.

Mahalo!

For all the branded Ironman races I’ve done, I’ve never been able to sleep in my own bed, wake up and drive to the race start. Not until this race! Formerly the Big Kahuna race, which Ironman (WTC) purchased last year and rebranded to Santa Cruz 70.3, was in conflict with Pacific Grove down on the southern end of the Monterey Bay. However, this year Pac Grove moved to June and being so close I had to do it.

I had never even spent much time training along this section of Hwy 1 so, after registering on Saturday, I checked in my bike and went for a short run. Then I drove the bike course as I had heard about a pretty good little climb that deviated off the highway. Yup… It’s a nice little climb. But the descent is even trickier as the tight technical turns will not allow for a fast drop back to the highway. I head home, make dinner and get to bed early… Joy is in LA with our daughter Aubrey.

RACE DAY

4am… I’m up and putting on my gear. Grab a bulletproof coffee and make two scrambled eggs with cheese and avocado tacos with a sausage link. Making sure I have everything before heading out the door, I grab an extra bottle of water and pull out of the driveway at 4:25. It’ll take me 35 minutes to get to Santa Cruz. The day before I scoped out my parking spot which will give me about a 5 min walk to transition but I always enjoy the quiet, dark journey in the cool air to focus my thinking. Once in transition I find myself comfortably setting up on a very nice artificial turf soccer field with plenty of room and a good location. Over the PA system I hear the announcer ask if anyone has a spare tubular… well, since my tires are in good shape and I now only take “Pit Stop” along with me during the race, I pull mine out of my bag and walk it to the announcer… It was needed by one of the races pro male athletes, Pedro Gomes. He very enthusiastically offers to pay me for the tire but I tell him it’s no problem. He was running out of time only having about 15 min to get out of transition and down to the race start for a 6:30 am gun! (I later see Pedro coming in on the run as I was about 2 miles out on the run. He was out of the top 5 from what I could tell.)

The race starts in front of the Santa Cruz Boardwalk, so I make the .4mile walk to the pier, drop off a pair of slip-ons for the run back and make my way over to the beach. Needing to go the bathroom, I look… everything is really backed up with long lines. Hmm? I make the walk back to transition where there are several porta-johns with no lines, no occupants. EZ PZ I’m back at the beach and the lines are still long. “That was a smart move!” I get my wetsuit zipped up and put on my goggles and cap and jump in the water to warm up… more like freeze up! Dang this water is cold! “Dumb move for not wearing an extra swim cap, oh well.”… not going back again now. There’s not enough time. I’m just going to have to gut it out.

In the swim corral, I look around. I know a few of the guys here and there’s some good competition. I’d love to make top 5, but it may be tough and not having done this race before puts me at a little disadvantage.

Swim:

Race officials have our group move to the edge of the water. There are about 100 of us in the 55-59 age group… count down, 4, 3, 2… air horn! I hit my watch timer and run straight ahead into the surf. I haven’t done a beach start into breaking surf since my first year of racing back in 2001! Again the shock of the cold water hits me but now I’m just putting my head down into the mild chop and following the direction of the buoys keeping them to my right. Half way out the swells start to roll us back a bit and I feel a lot more up and down motion than before. Finally out to the turn buoy we head north, with the end of the pier about 100 yards away. Suddenly, I find myself swimming through a big patch of sea kelp! Whoa! Wasn’t expecting that! Just like Pacific Grove, known as the “Kelp Crawl.” It only lasts for about 50 yards then clears… next turn, sight to the edge of the 4 story hotel left of the pier where the swim exit is… and now heading back it feels as though the water is working with us not against us. Coming into shore I keep swimming until my fingers hit sand, then I stand up and run out, through the sand up the steps into the parking area I find my shoes and strip my wetsuit, which gets full of sand and becomes a hassle running back to transition. Lesson learned… will not do that again. I am covered in sand and frankly with all the room and soft, clean surface of the soccer field will wait next time. Total Swim time: 33:13

Bike:

You get a little more running to the mount section then a short climb up to West Cliff Dr, where you zig-zag along the shoreline before exiting through the north section of Santa Cruz, which is nothing more than an industrial park. Once on Hwy 1, athletes are asked to use the wide shoulder of the road as it is open to traffic. Here there seems to be little affect from the wind, which typically comes from the northwest. At certain places, which were a bit more open you could feel it but not like I have in the past but it is early morning we’ll see if it helps coming back. Through Davenport at about mile 11 we head off the highway into the rolling pasturelands of the Santa Cruz mountain range… I’m glad I previewed this. It’s helpful when knowing where to conserve and where to push energy… There’s a good group of riders together and we’re about to approach the bottom of the climb. It comes up suddenly, a right hand turn and whoop! The road goes up! As I come around the turn I adjust my gearing for the near two-mile climb. The key, don’t go too hard. Just keep a nice rhythm on the pedals and soon we’re at the top. Signs warn about staying out of aero bars and I wonder how many will “go down” on this road and not just go down the road (there were a couple). Back on the highway we continue north, almost to the famous Pigeon Point lighthouse before we turn back. Now going south the pace seams a little quicker and at times the noticeable tailwind gives you a good kick… this time back you just stay on the highway and other than the rollers there is no more significant climbing. Looking at my watch, I’m hoping to get a 2:35-38 bike split… Back along the twisty turns of the shoreline, I make it into transition. Total bike time: 2:43:25

Run:

The run out takes you back out of transition the way you came in from the swim exit then up on West Cliff and run back though the industrial park onto a path that takes you out onto the Wilder Ranch Headlands. A scenic and fun little run… Well, not when it’s a half marathon. My pace going out was surprisingly quick and my heart rate was in check. The overcast made for nice running conditions and I found myself running through a lot of folks! Wow, this was feeling like old times. My first two miles were just under 7:20 pace and I never at one point ran slower than 8:07 pace. I knew that this was going to be a good run for me just simply because I kept wanting to push, even when it got tough. Going around the loop out on the headlands I caught up to a guy, who began to match me step for step and for the next 3 miles we ran side by side. He kept thanking me for pacing him. When getting back out to the road there is a little hill where at the top I no longer could hear his footsteps behind me and I looked back and he had fallen back considerably, but wait… another mile later he recovered came by me and now where my pace had fallen he began to make room in front. With a mile to go, I kept thinking, “hold this!” and thought about how good it was going to feel crossing the finish line. A quarter of a mile to go it’s literally all down hill and you finish on the sand. “Yes!” It’s over. Total run time: 1:41:46

Total Race: 5:05:53 – 7^th AG

Last year, on June 10th, while finishing a 94 mile ride through the Santa Cruz mountains during an unusually rainy day, my bike slid out from underneath me on what would be the final steep and sharp turn before heading home. The result was a fractured right hip that left me on crutches for the next three and a half months and subsequently caused me to cancel the remaining 4 races I had coming up. But racing wasn’t the only thing affected by my now sedentary ways. My Ironman race, scheduled for late September in Chattanooga, Tennessee was also a race I had planned to do for ZERO Cancer, an organization dedicated to raising awareness, providing education and research and ultimately seeing a generation of men with zero prostate cancer. It too, now was on hold.

Since my last post back in October on Gratitude, I’ve slowly been making progress toward the promise I made myself that first Saturday as I sat immovable on the couch. The way I saw it… this was not a STOP, only a PAUSE. That meant not only would racing be in my future but fundraising would also return.

My road back started slow but I was committed to getting one race in before the end of the year so as to get a third race on the books and be eligible for a USAT ranking. So, I set my sights on an Olympic distance race in early December, realizing I had less than 8 weeks to get ready.

Race Report – HITS Triathlon Series, Palm Springs (Olympic)

While I was healing up I was also coaching one of my colleagues at work. Together we put our sites on a race in La Quinta, California. For me it held several advantages, first it was flat and fast. Second, I lived in La Quinta for 13 years before moving to San Jose so I knew the course like the back of my hand and third, I would have a huge support base of friends there for logistical ease!

Once in the desert, we drove over to Lake Cahuilla to register and scope out the course. As we were leaving I overheard someone at the registration table telling someone the water will be cold and to consider extra head gear. It was about 75 degrees with perfectly sunny skies… I walked to the water, kicked off my flip flops and walked in ankle deep… seemed pretty warm to me, so I’m not sure what they were talking about.

RACE DAY

Driving in as the sun was coming up over the eastern sky, the rocky mountains surrounding the lake were lit in purple majesty. So many mornings here, seeing this exact vista put my heart at ease… It’s gonna be a great day for a comeback!

After settling into transition and walking through all the steps of place/flow/sighting and putting on my wetsuit, I grabbed my goggles and we walked over to the lakeshore… There was just enough time for a typical 5 min warm up. I jump into the water. O H   M Y   G O S H ! ! ! It’s freezing! I put my face down in the water and I start to swim along the shoreline. My hands hurt, may face hurts, where did my feet go? I get out. I walk up to an official, before I can say anything he looks at me and just says, “52.” 52 degrees!! How? It had to be high 60’s just 16 hours ago. With no time to argue… I had to get back in the water. 3, 2, 1…

Swim: There were only three waves, splitting the men into two groups and the women in one. I was in the second wave. While the water was cold the surface was calm. There was no wind and going out you swum straight into the sun. The course was a large rectangle that looked like it could be a little short but in the end was actually long as my Garmin recorded an extra 200 meters. I felt I had a good swim but the time confirmed the extra distance. Time – 29:23

Bike: Going into transition everything was numb… I had such a hard time getting things off and on because my hands could barely grasp and hold things… finally getting out on the bike course I just decided to go hard, for no other reason than to warm up! Being from here and ridden these roads so often, I knew the lines to pick, the places where false flats are deceiving and where two german shepherds were notorious for jumping out of the bushes and chasing you down… At the turn around there were there were two others who held pace with me and we rode switching positions all the way into transition. Time – 1:04:26

Run: I changed shoes, grabbed my visor and started out with the same two just mentioned. However, they quickly gained distance as the much younger, and prepared legs did their natural thing. However, as I got out of the park, I did not notice any runners coming toward me for quite some time. This let me know the first person I see will be in the first position of this race and I’d be able to count down my place by the turn around… I was doing my best to run as fast as I could but with only about 2 months of running in me and limited running at that, I had no idea what to expect once I headed back toward the finish… at the turn around I had counted my place to be 11th and looking ahead there were only a few people in site coming toward me. First a guy who may have been in college, next a guy who may be in my age group. There was about a half a mile distance between us… He was moving pretty good… would he catch me? No. As I came into the park and ran along the grass path toward the finish, I was pretty confident I had not only completed my first race since my accident… I had won my age group. Who woulda thought? Time – 46:42 Total time – 2:25:45   AG 1 / Gender 11 / Overall 14 = USAT 2015 All American

Now 2016 and looking ahead, it was time to schedule the year and develop an annual training plan (ATP). However, because things had significantly affected due to the crash, I felt perhaps this year, I’d change up my training routine by engaging a new coach with a completely different approach to training/racing. So, I reached out to my buddy Spence who the previous year started working with Amanda Stevens, a top US female pro who also has a medical degree. Plus hearing from Spence she definitely had a different approach. So, after consulting with her we decided to give it a year. How different an approach? Well first… I started all my workouts from then on based on a heart rate formula that had me running at the brisk pace of 10:20 minute miles. Also, gone were such wonderful things as cookies, bread, pasta, potatoes, rice and sugar of any kind!!! Welcome bacon, butter, heavy cream and avocados! The purpose? Eat fat to train your body to use fat. Guess what? It works!

Race Report – Ironman New Orleans 70.3

Having just been in New Orleans for a Fellowship of Christian Athletes Endurance board of directors retreat, I determined that this would be my first attempt at a half iron-distance race. With fellow board member and teammate, Barry living right there on Lake Pontchartrain and with my wife never having been to New Orleans it was a trip we had to do. Thanks to Barry and Susie’s hospitality we had an exceptional time and got to eat some of the best food in our lives, including a foodie bucket list item of dining at the Commander’s Palace. But this is a race report.

One pleasant surprise about this race is Coach Amanda decided to race NOLA 70.3 as well so, I had the privilege of having my coach on hand. This allowed me to discuss more specifically nutrition and racing strategies and get realtime feedback on efforts.

RACE DAY

All week the weather report was showing extremely windy conditions for race day. 24 hours prior the winds started to kick up and Barry began to instruct us on what to expect when on course. We were assured the swim would be not much of a problem because it would be in a protected harbor.

Swim: It was pretty choppy! The winds were blowing a steady 25miles an hour and for many of the athletes jumping off the dock simply getting to the first buoy was a chore. We were later told that nearly 100 people were either pulled out of the water or did not make the swim cut off. For me I felt as though going out to the first turn was the roughest. The course shaped like a capital N wasn’t hard to site once you knew what you were looking for. But this race too was marked too long perhaps in a counter to the previous years short swim. Time – 37:41

Bike: Other than the large overpass you ride at the start and end of the bike leg this course is pancake flat! But the winds were serious. At mile 5 the wind pushed over an A-Frame sign right in front of me, luckily I had just enough reaction to avoid what would have been pavement reunion. The steady work going out against the wind only made you look forward to the return which seemed just as fast as going out was slow. No alligators, no flats, no surprises just a 56 mile bike ride through the bayou! Time – 2:38:08

Run: Getting to the prime transition location I lucked out with provided me a quick change of shoe and straight shot to the run out. Placing visor and race-belt on my legs started to get a rhythm going as I pushed toward the first mile and again the only “hill” of this run; an overpass! Fist mile split as just at 7:45 and I wondered how, with all this low heart rate training, I would be able to hold this pace… also, the wind was at my back and I wondered if it was going to be a factor later on. At three miles I saw Amanda charging toward me. She was in 6th and about to run down the 5th place gal. I yelled, “Get her!” She did!! As I approached the turn around on this one loop course, the winds were pushing the lake up and over the sea wall and splashing onto the street… yes the winds were that strong! But I did not really know how strong until I made that turn. It was like someone slapped me… “Straighten up boy!” and as if to push me in the chest and back into a wall. I leaned forward, I scrunched my shoulders together trying my best to make myself as small an obstacle to catch the wind. “Don’t give in” I kept telling myself seeing the wind as my only foe on course now. With the time trial start I had no idea where I was in my age group but as I was approaching the overpass for the last 2 miles I began to realize… I had completely returned to this sport I love, at the distance I’m most familiar with and with very little loss in ability. When I crossed the finish line and as I started walking toward my wife… it hit me. I had done it. Last year there were those “experts” who were telling me not to get my hopes up and to consider what life would be like no longer having the ability to run or to compete for a podium finish. The emotion overtook me and I sobbed in gratitude. Time – 1:53:29  Total Time – 5:14:14  AG 5 / Gender 152 / Overall 180

Now that the play button had been pushed on my racing it was time to push it on my fundraising as well. This year the focus race for ZERO wasn’t an Ironman it was a 70.3 race in Boulder, Colorado. What made this race appealing to me was the fact it would be held exactly one year and one day after my crash! The thought of not making this my comeback race for ZERO never enter my mind… I was definitely going to do it!

Coach Amanda was still reminding me that the focus was still 2 months away and to not get too eager with my training because of Boulder. But I was pretty excited about doing this race and at one point started doing more than she scheduled… I got politely scolded.

Race Report – Ironman Boulder 70.3

On Wednesday I flew into Denver International Airport and grabbed my rental car and headed to friends Doug and Summer’s house who graciously hosted me and allowed me full run of their kitchen and let me come and go (at weird hours) as I pleased. Boulder was still a good distance along the front range from their house but proved to be a great location for all I needed to do. I had my bike shipped to their place so it was there waiting for me upon arrival.

On Thursday, I went to the race venue to register and scope out the course. There I got to hang out with Julie and Jen from ZERO who were amazing hosts for our team and did everything they could to make us feel comfortable and welcomed! The next day my buddy Spence came up from Colorado Springs to get in a little swim/bike/run and keep me company!

It was beginning to get pretty hot on Friday with Saturday forecasted for even hotter temps. Along with the warm up training, speaking at an IronPrayer event, catching up with a friend in downtown Boulder for an hour then out to a park for a team dinner and driving back to Littleton, I found myself, although pretty hydrated surprisingly, cramping up a little… not a good sign the night before a race. As, I got all my gear prepared and double checked everything for the 4:20 am morning departure, I grabbed another bottle of water, chugged it down and headed up to my room.

RACE DAY

When I arrived at the reservoir, I had timed my departure perfectly in order to get a parking spot right in front of the expo. This would be a blessing later when it came time to leave. Team ZERO were given prime locations for transition allowing us to have a little more room in a pretty cramped space. In Boulder the sun comes up early and so by 6am it was very bright and the temperatures began to climb. By 7am it was noticeably warm. My wave was fairly early and I decided to get my wetsuit on and get my warmup swim in as soon as the male pro’s were sent off at 7:15. Now in the water swimming one lap around a fence off area, the water temp was just above 70 degrees. I get out get in cue and wait…

Swim: I chose to line up at the front, up against the buoy line (inside). Which is a different strategy for me. The wave is all men 55 and older. Surprisingly, not many choose to come to this side. When the horn went off what typically is a slug-fest for a few hundred meters was nothing more than a nice smooth swim. I’m guessing one of the least contact starts in my racing career! This is good because all the pushing and shoving forces heavier breathing which I was trying to avoid being up at 5200 feet. Not wanting to redline on the oxygen while horizontal, nice and easy was the plan for the swim and that’s what it seemed to be all the way in. Easy to sight, easy to finish! Time – 33:16

Bike: As I ran into transition, Julie and Jen were there for cheers and encouragement. David the director of the Ironman Foundation was also there letting me know I was the 4 teammate out of the water and encouraged me to chase em down. Once I ran my bike across the mount line I jumped on and pushed forward to come to a screeching halt! Somehow my chain was now lodged in my bottom bracket. What??? I checked it right before leaving transition for the swim… I always check my gears. It’s the last thing I do, religiously, before heading to the swim. So now a minute and a half later with my hand full of grease and blood from ripping into my thumb, I’m able to get back on and ride out.

There’s a nice breeze making for a noticeable headwind going out but a welcomed push coming back on the first out and back loop for the first 18 miles. Once we start the second section of the ride there is a long slow gradual climb toward the front range… the scenery is beautiful and I’m just grateful to be out there. I’m steadily watching my heart rate knowing it will push higher that usual at effort because of the altitude difference and I’m staying about 5-6 beats higher than usual for the power output. Again at the far section around mile 30 the steady climbing is deceptive before you start a wicked fast descent. Then for the last 15 miles it’s just aerobar time and ticking out a rhythm on the pedals. Time – 2:26:48

Run: As I run out of transition the grass is soggy from water along the first aid station. Now you can definitely feel the humidity rising off the wet ground. As I get going I focus on keeping a short stride to elevate the leg turnover needed for a quick run… but my legs are as soggy as the ground I just ran on. Coming out of the park you run first along a field then onto a gravel road. The first aid station is just after a mile and my heart rate is already at 148… first mile split 7:35. Well, that’s not bad. I walk the aid station to get my HR down and fill up with as much water as I can. I take a couple Endurolytes. I start running. The next two miles are slightly up, then down and up again. Pace has now dropped with aid station walking to mid 8’s. Then coming back toward transition I’m finding it really hard to breath. Pace drops to mid 9’s. Now onto my second lap, it’s hot and I just can’t seem to get the air I want. I’ve started taking BASE Salts every aid station although, I myself am not that crusty with salty sweat and indication you’re losing too much salt. But by mile 7 my legs are cramping, mile 9 I’m now running flat-footed to keep my calves from cramping. At mile 11 my arms and my legs are knotting up… barley holding 10 min pace because I’m now run/walking I’m a mile out from the finish… a guy in my age group starts to run around me. So, I put my head down and get moving again, I quickly get around him but my legs are in complete rebellion, they are forcing my to hobble. I stop. I pound my fists into my quads and calves, while my hands contort uncontrollably. I start running again but only as a jog and hold on to the finish. Now in the finish shoot I run by the ZERO Tent to cheers… I hear my name, I cross the finish line and not wanting to look like I’m struggling so much, I strike a pose with a big smile (coach’s orders) and my right leg seizes up… serves me right for showing off! Time – 2:07:54  Total Time – 5:13:33  AG 10 / Gender 248 / Overall 296

It’s not what I wanted but it was everything I hoped for.

My personal purpose for coming to Boulder was to see what a difference a year would make. However, my primary purpose was to raise money and bring awareness to ZERO. As in years past, I set out to be the top fundraiser and to set an example that with hard work and dedication you can achieve extraordinary heights.  As of race day I had accomplished both goals by pushing through extreme conditions and proudly finishing one year post surgery and having raised over $26,000 for ZERO.

For all of you who encouraged, prayed, supported, believed, raced alongside, fundraised alongside and contributed to these goals; from the bottom of my heart – Thank you! As a result from this race I’ll be representing ZERO at the Ironman World Championships in October and will continue to represent this important cause.  My supporters have done their part, I’ve done my part, now would you please consider doing your part by clicking HERE and making a contribution today and being part of this amazing effort?

Again… Thank you!

Next race – Vineman 70.3 – July 10, 2016

“Thank you. Come again.”

“Thanks much!”

“Thanks again.”

“Thank you for…”

“Thank you for not…”

Whether it’s acknowledging someone for waiting and holding the door open so you can easily enter or exit or it’s because your grandmother slipped a $20 bill in your birthday card, we tend to respond with these simple words of gratitude: Thank you.

Most of the time we realize the reply is genuine but occasionally we’d have to admit it’s nothing more than a rote response; said without thought. Why do we do that? I have a theory. Here it is…

We really don’t understand the weight of gratitude. Don’t believe me?

How many of us really appreciate the time, sacrifice and love given to us by our parents until we become parents? How many of us understand the pride, the craftsmanship, the quality of a contractor who shows up on time, the repair of a broken antique clock and farmer who uses no pesticides? How many of us think about the server who takes our order for a $30 entrée and blames them for getting it wrong while it was really the kitchen’s fault? I’ve done that… and what was my response? I tip them less… or I withhold my GRATUITY.

You see we really don’t understand the weight of gratitude because we assume nothing less than the best should be ours everyday, 100% of the time, no exceptions. We earned it. We bought it. We made it. We’ve done it. We had it. We deserve it!

This week I began seeing several posts from friends who are in Hawaii racing today in the Ironman World Championships. One post was from a person who got a random lottery Kona slot last year as a result of the fires that cancelled Ironman Lake Tahoe just minutes before the start. I was there too, I was in the best shape I’d been in many years for an Ironman and I was already having a great year… I didn’t get one of the slots. In fact many people who would have never been near the time or place to qualify for one of those slots, actually did. His post… “I’m so thankful to be here! Words cannot express.” Why couldn’t I find it in me to be happy for him? Oh, yeah… I earned it. I’ve done it. I had it. I deserved it. But wait! Let’s remember, I wouldn’t have been able to be there because I’m recovering from a broken hip. Isn’t it better that somebody gets to be there if I cannot?

A couple years ago, before I entered the chilly waters of Lake Tahoe while the temperatures hovered around the freezing mark, I was chatting with teammate, Kyle about my anxieties concerning the day ahead. Freezing temps, altitude, difficulty of the bike course, my injuries affecting my training, etc. His words, “I know it’s a lot. But remember, it’s a privilege to do what we get to do.” Although Kyle didn’t realize at the time how profound his words and the effect they would have on me; all of a sudden my attitude about what lay ahead changed. Instead of fear about what would not be was elation of what could be. I was grateful of the chance to be walking into one of the most pristine lakes in the world, surrounded by a rim of snow-covered peaks and lavender skies.

Gratitude is perspective.

Two weeks ago, I walked into a waiting room waiting for my surgeon, Dr. Le, to inform me regarding the long awaited results of my 3+ months of anguishing recovery on crutches. I was expecting to hear the news that all had finally healed and I could, in fact, return to my normal life as though nothing had happened. As soon as he walked in the words, “I’ve got good news” followed. “Everything looks great. You can return to the things you used to do.” It was matter-of-fact and a tad anti-climatic. “Really?” I said, “Do everything? Running too?” Pulling up the X-Ray taken just minutes before, “Sure. Just be cautious.” And with that it all came full circle. “We’ve been really conservative. But I wanted the best possible outcome for you.” And with a little tongue-n-cheek, added, “It’s a good thing I did such a good job.” Reassuring me that my health, patience and focus on proper rehab for the past 3 months is what made the difference. Sitting there I couldn’t help think, the same man I imagined six weeks prior to be “evil” was to me now a hero. I was thankful for the pride, craftsmanship and quality of the work done on me. As I left the office, I shook Dr. Le’s hand and told him the first thing I was going to do… go for a bike ride. Literally, in the next 20 minutes. As soon as I returned to my office my bike and a cycling kit were there. I suited up, got on the bike (you never forget) and rode to the corner on McClellan at Deep Cliff and glided around the turn that found me prostrate on a warm, wet June 10th and wondering why I couldn’t put weight on my right leg as I pulled myself off the asphalt.

Since that afternoon, many more things have shown their value as worthy of gratitude. Like my first ride with Faan and Andy; I could smell the familiar but forgotten scent of dew on wild thistle, I could experience the moments and views I had been imagining for weeks on end and I was able to ride 60 miles and hold a good pace and even grab the wheel of two Every Man Jack, elite team members, as they passed me going 26mph!

I am back!

I’ve been riding… I’ve been swimming… and starting this week, I’ve ran three times. First run; 3 miles, two days later; 4. Today, just under 5 miles… and while it’s slow, I’m still able to run as fast as many of the runs I do in the early season when I’m starting my training for the coming year. To say I am grateful for this… words cannot express.

But if I may get a little personal, while there are truly many people I am grateful for, there are some people I want to say, “Thank you” for making the past 4 months some of the most inspiring moments of my life…

• To Jamie, if you could overcome, what the hell am I talking about?
• To Ryan, thanks for the comfy crutches… in some ways, you do but you have no idea what a gift those were.
• To Kyle, a passing comment before getting in the water became a “true north” for me.
• To April, what you gave was not wine but hope; a carrot to chase that has become more attainable each day.
• To my WestGate family, you saw me more than anyone, immobile and vulnerable yet you respected and encouraged and even pushed me when I let you… that was when I was in a wheel chair. I mean, really!
• To all those who said, “I’ll be back stronger than ever! And you’ll see me back on the road” (mostly Facebook folks), you have no idea what you’re talking about. However, I am so grateful for your intentions and ignorance it must be mentioned.
• To the guys who I’m sworn to secrecy, I had doubts at first but now really grateful we stick together.
• To Keri and Lynn for opening the door and getting me coffee every morning!
• To my anesthesiologist who “Is a cyclist.” Thanks for “Making it personal.”
• To whomever made sure I had the best nurses, room and hospital food for my first hospital stay.
• To Netflix… there were many days on the couch.
• To those I’ve rode, swum, run, trained, raced and recovered with over these years… you felt most deeply the disappointment of these past months.
• To Cherie and Lee. Lee… your gift of humor cannot be understated. Cherie, your concern and counsel cannot be undervalued. For two weeks following my accident you checked in almost every day… and you had the best advice because it came from experience.
• To Dr. Le, I may have been just one more surgery, just another “hip pinning” just another patient who fell down and went “boom!” But you wouldn’t wait, you cleared an operating room and assembled a team as quickly as you could, you promised the best possible outcome if it were possible, you frustrated me with six more weeks on crutches and yes, you were conservative but… I’m running.
• To Joy, you packed ice chests in the morning to keep me fed through the day, you dragged stools in and out the bathroom so I could shower, you picked up the chores I couldn’t do while continuing to do the ones you’ve always done, you never complained, you watched House of Cards, you were on top of things, you were chauffeur to an unwitting passenger, you never complained… you were there when I was angry, depressed, hopeful and surprised. You are what I am most grateful for.
• To my sport… While triathlon is my past, it is not my past. While swimming/biking/running is in my future, it is not my future. Yet, I am grateful for all the challenges, memories, friendships, health, platforms, accomplishments and life-lessons. Triathlon is the greatest sport any single person can do to discover who they truly are.

So, having said that…

Am I thinking right now, as I write this, about those who are on the Big Island of Hawaii, heading north on the Queen K, spanning the white lines and dark grey before them, with the deep azure on the left and black lava on the right? You know I am. And do I still think I should be there… You know I do! But one thing is for certain; I wouldn’t trade where I am for where they are because I’ve grown from this, I am starting over with this, I can’t wait to get back to this and I am forever grateful for this.

Thank you… I really mean it.

Thank you.

A week ago I met with my surgeon who told me post op I would be on crutches for two months. Exactly nine weeks later I drove myself to Kaiser, fully expecting to crutch in and walk out. After 30 minutes of waiting and the 10 minutes it took to get x-rays done, I was sitting in an examination room with my legs dangling and swinging, imagining what it would feel like to carry the crutches rather than have them carrying me. I was told Dr. Le was running late, “He’s in the emergency room.” Hmm, I thought. I wondered if I, likewise, had interrupted someone else’s day when he visited me in the ER? Then in walked the smiling Doc… (good sign, yes?)

“Well, your x-rays look good!” He pulls them up on the computer, “Things are healing perfectly.” I’m already thinking of ways to donate my crutches to one of two people I saw in the waiting area… “But, I want to take a little more time before you can be active.”

WHAT???

“I don’t want you doing any sport for another six weeks.” Hold on… did I just hear that correctly? I try to clarify. “Do you mean running?” He shakes his head no and the smile fades. “No sport. No strength training or range of motion.” I’m starting to read between the lines. Outwardly I say, “You mean I need to remain on crutches?” Inwardly I think, what kind of an evil man are you?

“Yes, that’s what I’m saying. I’m okay with you placing 50% body weight on that leg but flat-footed and guided by physical therapy. I’ll call in an appointment for you.” I just look at him speechless. He looks back waiting for me to say something. “I fully expected to walk out of here today. You told me I would be on crutches for two months… I’ve done everything you asked me to do. I’ve been a good boy (no kidding, I actually said that!) and it feels like it wasn’t good enough.” Dr. Le pulls the computer screen closer to me. “You can see there is still a small crack and yet it’s healing perfectly. So, let’s not mess this up.” At first I think, whadya mean by saying, “let’s,” as if you’re involved… I don’t see crutches under your arms! But the next thought sobers me up. He did say, “perfectly” and it is his work holding my femoral neck together and the x-ray shows both femurs with the same bone density where the previous x-ray, seven weeks ago, was significantly different. “Just a few more weeks and you’ll be able to start on a stationary bike.”

Do I tell him?

“Uh, Dr. Le… I’ve been on my trainer for the past two weeks. I’ve been in the pool a few times too.” He gives me a look; the kinda look you see when you promise a third-grader a bowl of ice cream and hand over a bowl of mashed potatoes instead.

“Okay, six more weeks. I get it. But I have to tell you I’m discouraged because I feel fine and I want to just get going! I fully expected to leave here walking and then let that turn into trail hiking and then get to jogging, which will turn to running. That’s my focus. That’s my goal.” His smile returned. “You will and if you do this right, walking will only be couple days for you and you’ll breeze through to running again.”

As we parted he again mentioned prescribing Physical Therapy and to expect a call to set up an appointment. That call came an hour later for first available… August 31st. Two and a half weeks out! I’m going to have to wait that long to “learn” how to walk with crutches at 50% weight-bearing? That’s almost half the time left on crutches… I don’t think so!

That evening, after a long offsite meeting with staff and before going to bed, in the quiet of a warm summer evening, Joy already having retired for the night, I ponder… I’m okay. I want to walk and my body is saying… WALK! So… holding my crutches out, I place them against the wall. I look at our open french doors to the back yard. I need to close them and I’m going to walk over to them and do so. But I think about it. Realizing for the first time in my life, I’m actually having to think about walking. Before you become a toddler, walking is an evolutionary process. At this moment, it’s a revelation-ary one. I take a deep breath… “Here I go.” And step… and step.. and st, Hey!!! What’s the big deal? No pain, no wobble, no guilt. I leave my crutches in the living room and walk to bed, quietly; no clanking, creaking, hardwood floor smacking!

In the morning, Joy gets up before me to make coffee. I can hear her in the kitchen. She hasn’t come back to the bedroom with her signature, “Daniel?” This is what I hear when I’ve done something bad… I realize she hasn’t seen the crutches! I get up and walk into the kitchen. She sees me enter and does a double take!

What happens next. I can’t reveal here. My wife is a wonderful, woman of God, who prays faithfully, sacrifices willingly and is completely devoted to Christ. But she had a moment… I have been on my crutches ever since.

I was able to get an appointment with the physical therapist on Wednesday due to a cancellation. His evaluation: Crazy good! No really, that’s what he kept saying as he pulled and stretched and pushed my leg in all directions. I’m thinking (again) this is my ticket to losing the crutches… but nooooooo. With all types of explanations and reasons I found myself agreeing to staying on the crutches where, in two weeks from now, will be able to only use one crutch and apply 75% body weight to my right leg. His cavalier, yet wise way of keeping me from pulling another stunt like last Thursday night? “My hip’s fine… Dr. Le’s hip is fine. Do what you want.” In other words, if I screw up my recovery, it won’t bother him or anyone else for that matter but it will suck to be me.

So… I’m embracing my crutches not only physically but emotionally too. I’ve named them… Darryl and his brother Darryl. Some of you will get that. I’ve also, learned how to balance suspended in air on both Darryl’s for quite a long time. Someone recently made a comment on how nice my triceps were looking! I completed my coaching recertification with USAT. I’ve built up a new triathlon bike with spare parts. I got a Netflix account.

Life is not predictable. Each day provides the same opportunities but no one day is ever alike. Life is, as I’ve often heard, what you make of it. Despite the ups and downs, the good the bad, the successes and failures, whether we want it to or not, life goes on. When things, whatever they are for you, don’t quite go as you wish them to remember this…

… the Lord has anointed me… to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion—to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor. Isaiah 61:1a,3 (NIV)

This Old Testament passage is easy to understand if you realize during a time of bitter morning and despair the common practice was to pour ashes on your head and wear an uncomfortable garment of goat hair signifying on the outside what was really going on on the inside.

Many times I’ve heard, when your hip has healed it will be stronger than ever. As I’m learning over and over, the only thing required is time. No whining… No quick fix… No great oak spouted in a day.

My hip’s fine. Do what you want.

However, now a bit over six weeks since my accident I’m getting quite board with this “new” routine. I feel fine! I just want to get on with things. So… I am. Enough sitting around.

I’m taking charge of my own destiny… dammit!

Does this mean I’m closing my laptop, tossing these darned crutches and walking out the front door like an angry teenager? Will I pull on a cycling kit and helmet and pedal my way up Highway 9? Am I going to lace up my running shoes, put in my earphones and hit the “start” button on my Garmin? uhhh no. I’ve little less than three weeks to keep weight off my right leg before seeing how my hip is healing. I have no intention of allowing my impatience to sabotage the best route to full recovery, of which I been told, read numerous accounts and simply feel, deep down, is what’s best. However, I’m not going to just sit here.

Yesterday, I went to the gym for the first time. Carrying both my swim-bag and my workout backpack, I had to carefully negotiate turns, doors, people, steps and water (yes, on the ground, which is what got me in this mess in the first place). The first thing I did was find a recumbent bike and strapped myself in for a spin. Keeping the resistance at level 1 (it doesn’t get any easier than that) I pedaled a mild 60 rpm for 30 minutes. Did not even get a glimmer of sweat on my body but boy did if feel good! Next, I found a couple of cable machines where I was able to do a little upper body work. Finally, I wanted to go to the pool but was informed it was closed for a private party. Dang! That’s what I wanted to do most. Oh well, that’s for this afternoon!

Back down in the locker room, it’s time to shower. Gingerly, I make my way across the wet floor, checking the grip of each crutch under my arms. This makes what would be accomplished in a few minutes a process that feels as though it could produce fossil fuels. Now dressed and having slung both bags over my shoulders, I start to leave the locker room. The bags are slipping awkwardly down my arms, I’m asked a couple of times if I needed help. I politely decline… This is part of the workout. This is part of what it means to go about my business as usual… I’m feeling fine and life goes on.

As a pastor, I have the privilege of being a part of many significant events in the lives of people I know, as well, others I do not know. Most of them are joyous occasions, some of them challenging and at times, sad. This has allowed me tremendous perspective on life. As the writer of the book of Ecclesiastes reveals and popularized by the 60’s pop group, The Byrds, to every season of life there is a purpose and we must come to understand while it may be a time to dance for some it may be a time to mourn for others. I see this so clearly every time I stand beside a family, broken with grief, in a cemetery, parting with a loved one for the last time. It is here I ask them to listen. Typically, under the crisp, blue sky you hear birds calling, the sound of a lawnmower, perhaps a plane overhead and certainly cars in the distance. I tell the family, not too long ago and not too soon from now, you have and will be those people; going about your affairs unaware that someone like you is standing here today. Life goes on and this is just a season.

What’s the problem?

Inspiration is something most people would agree helps move the sedentary, challenge the status quo, and create the next new thing. However, inspiration is something very few of us truly understand. If we did, we wouldn’t wait for it to happen upon us, rather we’d go looking for it as though it were hidden treasure or more specifically, we’d be asking for it as though it were candy.

Inspiration comes from the Latin inspirare, meaning “to breathe into” and derives from the greek origins of art, literature and science, which were carefully curated by the 9 muses of mythology and who had the ability to inspire greatness upon mere mortals. This act, in the greek was not just how things happened; “inspiration” but what happened; “enthusiasm!” The word in greek literally means being, in – god’s – essence. So, when the bible instructs us to, “Trust in the Lord with all of our heart and not to lean on our own understanding but in every way, acknowledge Him and he will direct our paths.” (Proverbs 3:5) we should then enthusiastically, embrace each moment big or small, significant or otherwise as though it can change everything.

This past week, I did something I have only done one other time in my life… I stood on the sidewalk, in normal street cloths and cheered on the competitors of a triathlon (Vineman 70.3). After all my years of racing, I’d hear from spectators how “inspiring” it is to watch a triathlon… Well, I looked for it. I even asked for it. Needless-to-say, it didn’t come to me. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed being out there among friends, cheering on their accomplishments but it did very little to inspire or enthuse. Therefore, due to this, I knew one thing for sure. I wasn’t going to attend the awards ceremony. Having seen the winning times in my age group, I most likely would have won. So, seeing others get the prize (a wooden winebox with a bottle of La Crema, Russian River Pinot Noir or Chardonnay) would simply be too difficult to watch. So, Joy and I left the venue to do what we always do on Sunday afternoon post race… we headed into Healdsburg to visit the La Crema Winery tasting room and talk about the race and sip on their fantastic wines.

Lately, I’ve been needing to explain a lot of things… first “What happened?” then “How are you doing?”

Typically I’m fine. I have especially come to enjoy sleeping. During these past four weeks it’s the time I get to walk, even run. However, last night was the first night I actually needed crutches for dream walking. It’s these subtle and not so subtle things that tend to affect my mood and has me taking account of who I am, what’s truly important and the changes I need to make.

Before I became a triathlete I was an observer. It began by watching the Ironman race on television and finding myself in awe of men and women who could swim, bike and run ridiculous distances and overcome self-inflicted, physical punishment with sheer mental toughness and emotional will… deep down I wanted to be… that guy.

I knew people who were marathoners, folks who spent their Saturday mornings riding bikes for hours, I watched my daughter’s classmate, who was such a fast and smooth swimmer, you would swear gills were somewhere underneath that flock of red/brown curls falling past her shoulders. Being good at one sport is impressive but being really good at all three? Dreams inspire… and yes, I wanted to become that guy.

When I found myself unexpectedly in the midst of dozens of talented runners and triathletes at the memorial service for Tom, I was welcomed into a community where possibilities are assumed and obstacles a temptation. When one of them had the audacity to mention to me I could be that guy, outwardly I laughed, inwardly I hoped it true but it would be years before I really did something about it.

At my first race, a sprint triathlon at Bonelli Park in San Dimas, California, I remember being about two miles into the bike segment of the race and realizing I had, in fact, become that guy and yet, not before but now, all I wanted to do was get better and go farther.

And farther I went.

Now 14 years past that first race in May 2001, although it may sound arrogant, there have been plenty of people who observed my racing and later became a triathlete because they thought if that guy can do it, so can I. It’s not bravado, it’s a responsibility. Our lives are a gift and if curated for the way we were created should inspire others to a more rewarding path. Whether to be inspired or to inspire, I believe with deepest conviction that we are all meant to be… that guy.

Now, hobbling along on crutches with a broken hip, looking at a minimum of six months recovery and an uncertain future as to my ability to run let alone race I never, for a moment, imagined I would be that guy.  With nothing but time and the slow progression of each unbalanced step I’ve come to realize it’s only a small leap into what I call the “black hole.” With very little effort you can find yourself here and quickly begin a slide into an abyss of self-deprecation and shame. I’ve determined as soon as I recognize the darkness closing in I claw myself back into the light. Sometimes it honestly seems easier to just go there. In an odd way, it feels humane to lose oneself in a mire of pity where people no longer can look on the has-been and shake their head in wonder.  I’ve known a few people who have chosen that end… Me? I don’t want to be that guy.

Today, we arrived in Windsor, California. We’re staying just a mile away from the finish line of the Vineman 70.3 race. This is the race I was training for that ended in a trip to the Emergency Room a long four weeks ago; the race I was thinking about during most of that ride. When we arrived it was clear triathlete were here although, the skies were cloudy, things were turning grey. Oh, the abyss is looking so attractive. We check in… as I look around there’re plenty of Mdots and compression socks on fortysomethings to push me out of that hole. I recognize instantly the emotional rollercoaster ride has just begun and the serious ups and downs are yet to come. However, I have a plan.

When the voice inside my head starts to bark, “This was supposed to be your race!” I’m going to find a person with that “overwhelmed” look and see how I can encourage them in their race. As the ache inside my gut starts to grow the longer the race goes into the fourth, fifth and sixth hour, I’ll show appreciation to those spectators around me whose feet ache for standing hours on end. If I’m tempted to gripe about how hard it is to get around on crutches, I’ll politely accept offers of help and patiently explain what happened. Finally, because I have so many memories of this race, it’ll be easy to imagine where I’d be, how I’d feel and who I’d be competing against at any given moment but instead I’m just going to enjoy where I am, how I feel and who I’m with because being in the Sonoma wine country is a pretty nice place to be, especially when my health and fitness is what’s keeping me strong and because of the amazing community of athletes, many who are friends and especially knowing I’m with a woman who is taking care of me without a single complaint.

Therefore, as I think back, reflect in this moment and imagine what will be, if someone is going to offer encouragement, appreciation, patience and gratitude; then more than anything else… I want to be that guy.