I set my alarm for 4:30am. The transition area opens at 5:00am but I wasn't planning on getting there that early. I slept fairly well even though I did wake up a few times through the night either to use the bathroom or check to see that I hadn't overslept. When the alarm went off I slowly got up and re-heated the leftover spaghetti, heated some water for oatmeal and drank some 100% juice. I really tried to eat as much as I could knowing that at some point on the swim I was going to get hungry and I didn't want that to unravel the day. I quietly mixed 
up my beverages for the event and mentally walked through the race one more time to make sure I had everything. Loaded up the car in the dark. It was a little after 5:00am on race day morning and I started to get nervous.
We arrived at the parking lot around 5:30am. Everyone was arriving as well so the transition area was all abuzz with activity. All I had to do is put the water bottles and my Fuel Belt in the transition and special needs bags along with some extra clothes. We were done doing all of that faster than I thought so we walked back to the car to try to relax before needing to put on the wetsuit. I was definitely nervous at that point. In the car I did a last minute walk through of the race, imagining that I made all the cut offs, a big analog clock going quickly through the day. I was wondering what the pros were doing, if they were in a VIP tent somewhere drinking coffee or pumping up the tires on their sweet time trial bikes. At about 6:25am we left the car and walked closer to the transition in a grassy area where other participants were gathering. I saw Scott Forrestall again with his entourage. His family looked excited for him and he looked like a guy who had done these before- because he had. He was going to finish in about 10 hours I thought, probably going back and forth with his boss Vinu Malik of Fuel Belt. What an experience that would be to actually be racing. Hopefully I would have started the run around the time they finish.
Around 6:40am the announcers were instructing the pros to get into the water and people started to ge
t jumpy. My wetsuit went on snugly as usual. The tightness around my neck made me gag a little but that subsided. I gave the rest of my stuff to Jessica and she gave me a kiss for good luck. No "lololol-ing" like Paulanda does in the back of their car. I walked through the transition to check on the bike one last time then followed the pack as we all slowly made our way towards the water. I was caught off guard when the pro start goes off with a bang at 6:50am which means our race is 10 minutes away. Now I am really nervous! The announcers instruct participants to get into the water and some people jumped in right away. Per the norm I let the masses go ahead of me which allowed the stairs to the water get bottlenecked. No one is moving but no one seems to be worried. Five minutes to go and there are still a lot of people on the river's edge including myself. There is comfort in numbers and a bunch of us climb over the wall, carefully negotiate the slope to the water and find a ledge to walk closer to the start. Then the gun goes off!
2.4 Mile swim. I waited a few seconds then went in feet first. The water was freezing! I scooped up a bunch of water into the wetsuit and with my jiggly dance moves let it smooth out and adjust the suit around my body. As I am catching my breath there are still people jumping into the
water. I slowly get into a swim rhythm and start on my way. I am doing an Ironman! I had to remind myself. The cut off for the swim is at 9:20am. In my head I was thinking that when I do a half it usually take me a little over an hour to do the 1.2 miles. If I can keep that pace, which I struggle to do sometimes, double it and then have about 10 minutes or so to spare. Let's see if that works. The water was chilly but not any colder than Lake San Antonio at Wildflower. I tried to keep it slow and steady and promised myself that I wouldn't check my time until the turn around after the Rural Road bridge. I got kicked a few times but then I kicked a few people as well. I warmed up pretty well and my sighting was going fine. I stayed to the right close to the shore and let the fast people hug the buoy line to my left which helps me sight. As long as I can see people swimming to my left I am doing fine. The swimmers thinned out pretty quickly and I was left with my slow and go comrades. I was praying for them as much as myself that we would all have a great day. Slowly 
but surely I could see the Rural Road bridge come into view and I thought that it doesn't help me to worry about the time so early. Since the swim finish is a little past the Mill Avenue Bridge where we started, the halfway point of the swim is actually on the way back after the Rural Road Bridge. I was anxious to see where I was time wise hoping that my watch would say some thing close to 8:00am and not 8:30am. That would be horrible and I would have to kick it into a higher gear that I really didn't have. I checked the Suunto at the far buoy and it read 8:03am. Right on time. I started to get excited. About two thirds through the swim I started to gain confidence. I could easily make the swim cut off, I thought, and get more time for the bike. Then the hunger hit me. I knew it would happen and I knew it would be on the swim. Not much you can do unless you want to keep a gel up your sleeve or near an ankle but I hadn't done that before and you don't do anything new on race day. Hold it together I said to myself, Grande Pride! Man, I had to go there early. It wasn't so bad when it first hit. The hunger kind of goes away and then you stop thinking about it. Unfortunately I stopped thinking about it because my mind started to wander and I start feeling light headed. Tim Deboom once said that during a race if you start to lose your concentration you
probably need to eat something. The Mill Avenue Bridge close to the finish couldn't come any sooner and I was starting to worry that I had slowed too much. You have to swim past the bridge you started at and then make a left to the exit stairs. Blacking out climbing up the stairs was going to be a sincere possibility. Maybe I was at the bridge by 9:00am which would give me 20 minutes to get to the stairs. I didn't want to waste time checking the watch and concentrated on the stairs. When I got there I was pleased to see helpers with their feet in the river assisting participants out of the water. I was so happy to be out. The volunteers pointed me up the sidewalk and to the wetsuit assistance area. I didn't have time to start taking off the wetsuit as someone grabbed the zipper and was helped by another person to peel off the top. I was instructed to lay on the ground, some large man quickly ripped off the rest of the suit off, handed it to me and I was off to the T1 tent. along the way I was handed my bike needs bag and I quickly ate the banana I had waiting for me.
T1. I was really taking my time in the transition to catch my breath, eat a little, drink a little and try to absorb as much of the experience as possible. I had until 5:30pm to make it through the
bike so since it was a little after 9:00am I had about 8 hours to do it. Plenty of time I thought. I wanted to take a gel before I left the tent which I did, then off to go grab my bike. What was waiting for me right outside the tent were three lovely ASU co-eds asking if I wanted sunscreen. Perfect. How could I say no? They should have these ladies at every triathlon including sprint distance races on cloudy days. After double checking that they covered all exposed skin I was handed my bike by a very helpful volunteer and I was off.
112 Mile bike. The road out of town was mostly flat and filled with plenty of noisy spectators. I love that. Even though I was one of the last people on the bike they were as supportive of me as much if I were a pro. Actually, they were cheering for the pros. As I was making my way out to the first of three laps I was overtaken by some of the pro men and women who had just lapped me. Lieto, McDonald, Zieger, Cave. They all went whizzing by as I was just trying to get my legs and lungs going. I hadn't finished my Harvest bar yet, per the Peter Reid School of Triathlon Nutrition- No
hammering on the bike until you get down a bar. I got a "Hey, Joel!" from someone with a PowerBar jersey but I didn't recognize him only to figure out it was Ironman legend Dirk Ashmoneit on his way to a Kona qualifying time. Vinu Malik from Fuel Belt passed me. Then Scott Scott Forrestall. The cool part was that I got a chance to see everyone and watch the race unfold from the perspective of the race course. It was almost like watching the Kona telecast as they go through the leaders all the way through the field. The first half of the 37 mile lap is slightly uphill which sets me back a little. I had calculated earlier that I needed to average better than 14 mph for 8 hours to finish in time. Going up that slight incline I was going 9mph, into the wind and struggling. At that point, about 10:30am I thought I wasn't going to make it. What a sad day it was going to turn out to be. You are a sad, sad man. Then the wind went away and I made it up to the turn around point. With the slight downhill I started to pick up speed and confidence. I think about my mom a lot on my longer event. I know she and my grandmother are watching over me whenever I race. Sometimes I would talk to them out loud when I need something extra. They were with me all day today. Two hours into the bike and I was feeling better though my butt was starting to hurt. Volunteers at the bike special needs stop were fantastic while I took a pit stop at a port-
o-pottie. I finished lap one at about the crack of noon to cheers from the crowd which again is so uplifting. There were some people on the side of the road dressed as chickens that I thought was weird and even more weird when I heard them cheering my name. Later I found out that was the crazy Forrestall family. My way out on lap two was similar-riding into the wind. Towards the end of my second lap a course marshall on a motorcycle passed me and stayed steady just ahead of me on my left. Maybe they were checking on my passes to make sure they were legal? Was I giving enough room and not drafting? Were they actually paying attention to me? Then quicker than you can say "lapped again" the pros went whizzing by. It was cool but what a downer. Wouldn't that be nice to be finishing the bike right now? It was the hottest part of the day, I was tired of eating gels, out of my pre-mix beverage and my butt was hurtin' something fierce. It's a tradition for the race winners to come back to the finish line late in the evening to welcome in the last of the participants. Would I see them again when I hopefully finish close to midnight? I would have to make the third lap with just a handful of stragglers, cutting the on-course beverage and milking the bag of gel blasts. The cut off to start the last bike lap was 3:00pm and I made that by about 45 minutes. It started to feel lonely seeing the aid stations thin out and pack up. I had to make it to the turnaround on Beeline Hwy by 4:15pm. The sun started to go down and I was one of the last ones left on the bike. The thighs were doing okay but occasionally
I would feel a twitch. Please no cramping! Luckily it didn't happen until the end. My ass was really hurting now and I had to keep getting off the saddle to keep it at bay which didn't help the quads but you do what you have to. Grande Pride kicked in again and I cruised into town at about 4:20pm and I was so relieved.
T2. So happy to be off my bike, taken away again by a helpful volunteer. Ecstatic to be back in the transition tent with my run bag, another banana and a fresh bottle of PowerBar Endurance. If I took my time in the tent after the swim, I REALLY took my time after the bike. If there was a couch in there I would have laid down on it though several people were suffering in there worse than I was. One Japanese fellow looked delirious and was having trouble conversing with one of the volunteers. Again, I was trying to take it all in. I didn't know for how long I was in the tent but my butt was feeling better, I was glad that the sun was still out and that the run was all that was left to do. Of course someone in the tent had to ask, "Anyone want to go do a marathon?" Yeah, very funny. With that I slapped on my visor and headed out for a little jog but I was stopped as I exited again. This time it was a different set of ASU ladies but again offering an enticing sunscreen lotion rub down. I was pretty crusty and stinky but it felt really good. They were troopers.
26.2 Mile run. Did I tell you I was happy to be out on the run? All I had to do was finish before midnight and it was only about 4:30 or so. Piece of cake. I saw Jon Robichaud as I made the first left along the water. It was so great to see a familiar face after hours of talking to myself. Then a little bit later I saw Jessica which was awesome. She asked how I was doing and I said I was fine and happy to be on the run. I was going slow and steady and being passed by people on their second or third laps. Each run lap was a little less than 9 miles each so there would be plenty of time to get to know the course. Within the first few miles I met a lady from Canada named Mary who was a multiple Ironman finisher. She was super nice and she described how she had a tough swim because the water was so cold. Apparently when they pulled her out of the water she was visibly suffering from hypothermia and two large medical gentlemen had to hug her to bring up her temperature. They were threatening to pull her from the race but eventually let her go. We talked for a few miles then I let her go ahead because I was starting to not feel so good in the stomach. Looking back on it now it might have been that I was eating and drinking too much (from going so slowly) but at the time I was sincerely
hungry. As Romeo and I like to say, "We could always eat" and I guess that means during a race as well. The sun was going down and the night would be upon us soon. About midway through that first lap it was mostly running mixed in with a little walking and then mostly walking. When the nausea decided to stick around I had to switch into survival mode. I was planning each aid station and what I would do nutrition wise well before I got there. The volunteers were great, always asking what you needed and more than willing to go get it. At the start of the second lap I saw Jessica again and she asked how I was doing. "I feel like I need to throw up." I responded. She gave some words of encouragement along with instructions to not throw up near her. The second lap was really lonely. With the sun already set, it was starting to get cold so I grabbed a shirt from my run special needs bag. I was super lucky I threw that shirt in there because I almost didn't. Next time I'll put in a long sleeve as well. Then the volunteers start handing out the glow sticks which, although is for your safety, it makes you feel like you're the last one left on course. The reality was that I would be one of the last ones. I tried to take in a little coke here, some chicken broth there, some pretzels here a few gel blasts there. I jogged when I could, walked when I couldn't and just told myself I needed to keep moving. Throughout the last several hours I was calculating where I had to be to make the last cutoff. I k
new I could go harder if I needed to and if I gutted it out I could have finished around 11:00pm. I made the decision that I would not try to kill myself just to finish a half hour earlier. With about 5 miles to go I befriended Alan from Wisconsin. He too was a multiple Ironman finisher who was frustrated about how he blew up on the bike. Triathlon was a hobby he had taken up in his 50's and now in his early 60's he had incorporated it into his lifestyle. I can only hope that I am still doing triathlons when I get there. With several hundred yards to go I separated from Alan so I could try to enjoy the last bit of the race by myself.
16:29:41. It was closing in on midnight but you couldn't tell it from the spectators in the stands. They seemed to be cheering as loud as they could and it was music to my ears. I didn't notice a thing around me as I was drawn to the clock under the overhang. It's true that the finish line makes all your hurt go a way. It makes it all the training, as much or little as it might be
, worthwhile. I will be the first to admit that I didn't train as much as much as I should have or as I would have liked but it didn't matter anymore. At the finish line volunteers grabbed me, wrapped a mylar blanket around me and asked how I felt. I felt great. They asked if I had a friend of family member with me and then magically Jess showed up with a hug and a kiss. I was hungry for something solid. At the San Jose International Triathlon one year they had stir fried noodles, nice and salty. I thought thought sounded good. There was cold pizza- it was okay. The over-salted fries were gross. I was in a daze from being out there so long but I was so happy I finished.
I made all the cut offs. As a bonus I met a few new cool people. And my not so secret goal- I didn't come in last.
up my beverages for the event and mentally walked through the race one more time to make sure I had everything. Loaded up the car in the dark. It was a little after 5:00am on race day morning and I started to get nervous.We arrived at the parking lot around 5:30am. Everyone was arriving as well so the transition area was all abuzz with activity. All I had to do is put the water bottles and my Fuel Belt in the transition and special needs bags along with some extra clothes. We were done doing all of that faster than I thought so we walked back to the car to try to relax before needing to put on the wetsuit. I was definitely nervous at that point. In the car I did a last minute walk through of the race, imagining that I made all the cut offs, a big analog clock going quickly through the day. I was wondering what the pros were doing, if they were in a VIP tent somewhere drinking coffee or pumping up the tires on their sweet time trial bikes. At about 6:25am we left the car and walked closer to the transition in a grassy area where other participants were gathering. I saw Scott Forrestall again with his entourage. His family looked excited for him and he looked like a guy who had done these before- because he had. He was going to finish in about 10 hours I thought, probably going back and forth with his boss Vinu Malik of Fuel Belt. What an experience that would be to actually be racing. Hopefully I would have started the run around the time they finish.
Around 6:40am the announcers were instructing the pros to get into the water and people started to ge
t jumpy. My wetsuit went on snugly as usual. The tightness around my neck made me gag a little but that subsided. I gave the rest of my stuff to Jessica and she gave me a kiss for good luck. No "lololol-ing" like Paulanda does in the back of their car. I walked through the transition to check on the bike one last time then followed the pack as we all slowly made our way towards the water. I was caught off guard when the pro start goes off with a bang at 6:50am which means our race is 10 minutes away. Now I am really nervous! The announcers instruct participants to get into the water and some people jumped in right away. Per the norm I let the masses go ahead of me which allowed the stairs to the water get bottlenecked. No one is moving but no one seems to be worried. Five minutes to go and there are still a lot of people on the river's edge including myself. There is comfort in numbers and a bunch of us climb over the wall, carefully negotiate the slope to the water and find a ledge to walk closer to the start. Then the gun goes off!2.4 Mile swim. I waited a few seconds then went in feet first. The water was freezing! I scooped up a bunch of water into the wetsuit and with my jiggly dance moves let it smooth out and adjust the suit around my body. As I am catching my breath there are still people jumping into the
water. I slowly get into a swim rhythm and start on my way. I am doing an Ironman! I had to remind myself. The cut off for the swim is at 9:20am. In my head I was thinking that when I do a half it usually take me a little over an hour to do the 1.2 miles. If I can keep that pace, which I struggle to do sometimes, double it and then have about 10 minutes or so to spare. Let's see if that works. The water was chilly but not any colder than Lake San Antonio at Wildflower. I tried to keep it slow and steady and promised myself that I wouldn't check my time until the turn around after the Rural Road bridge. I got kicked a few times but then I kicked a few people as well. I warmed up pretty well and my sighting was going fine. I stayed to the right close to the shore and let the fast people hug the buoy line to my left which helps me sight. As long as I can see people swimming to my left I am doing fine. The swimmers thinned out pretty quickly and I was left with my slow and go comrades. I was praying for them as much as myself that we would all have a great day. Slowly 
but surely I could see the Rural Road bridge come into view and I thought that it doesn't help me to worry about the time so early. Since the swim finish is a little past the Mill Avenue Bridge where we started, the halfway point of the swim is actually on the way back after the Rural Road Bridge. I was anxious to see where I was time wise hoping that my watch would say some thing close to 8:00am and not 8:30am. That would be horrible and I would have to kick it into a higher gear that I really didn't have. I checked the Suunto at the far buoy and it read 8:03am. Right on time. I started to get excited. About two thirds through the swim I started to gain confidence. I could easily make the swim cut off, I thought, and get more time for the bike. Then the hunger hit me. I knew it would happen and I knew it would be on the swim. Not much you can do unless you want to keep a gel up your sleeve or near an ankle but I hadn't done that before and you don't do anything new on race day. Hold it together I said to myself, Grande Pride! Man, I had to go there early. It wasn't so bad when it first hit. The hunger kind of goes away and then you stop thinking about it. Unfortunately I stopped thinking about it because my mind started to wander and I start feeling light headed. Tim Deboom once said that during a race if you start to lose your concentration you
probably need to eat something. The Mill Avenue Bridge close to the finish couldn't come any sooner and I was starting to worry that I had slowed too much. You have to swim past the bridge you started at and then make a left to the exit stairs. Blacking out climbing up the stairs was going to be a sincere possibility. Maybe I was at the bridge by 9:00am which would give me 20 minutes to get to the stairs. I didn't want to waste time checking the watch and concentrated on the stairs. When I got there I was pleased to see helpers with their feet in the river assisting participants out of the water. I was so happy to be out. The volunteers pointed me up the sidewalk and to the wetsuit assistance area. I didn't have time to start taking off the wetsuit as someone grabbed the zipper and was helped by another person to peel off the top. I was instructed to lay on the ground, some large man quickly ripped off the rest of the suit off, handed it to me and I was off to the T1 tent. along the way I was handed my bike needs bag and I quickly ate the banana I had waiting for me.T1. I was really taking my time in the transition to catch my breath, eat a little, drink a little and try to absorb as much of the experience as possible. I had until 5:30pm to make it through the
bike so since it was a little after 9:00am I had about 8 hours to do it. Plenty of time I thought. I wanted to take a gel before I left the tent which I did, then off to go grab my bike. What was waiting for me right outside the tent were three lovely ASU co-eds asking if I wanted sunscreen. Perfect. How could I say no? They should have these ladies at every triathlon including sprint distance races on cloudy days. After double checking that they covered all exposed skin I was handed my bike by a very helpful volunteer and I was off.112 Mile bike. The road out of town was mostly flat and filled with plenty of noisy spectators. I love that. Even though I was one of the last people on the bike they were as supportive of me as much if I were a pro. Actually, they were cheering for the pros. As I was making my way out to the first of three laps I was overtaken by some of the pro men and women who had just lapped me. Lieto, McDonald, Zieger, Cave. They all went whizzing by as I was just trying to get my legs and lungs going. I hadn't finished my Harvest bar yet, per the Peter Reid School of Triathlon Nutrition- No
hammering on the bike until you get down a bar. I got a "Hey, Joel!" from someone with a PowerBar jersey but I didn't recognize him only to figure out it was Ironman legend Dirk Ashmoneit on his way to a Kona qualifying time. Vinu Malik from Fuel Belt passed me. Then Scott Scott Forrestall. The cool part was that I got a chance to see everyone and watch the race unfold from the perspective of the race course. It was almost like watching the Kona telecast as they go through the leaders all the way through the field. The first half of the 37 mile lap is slightly uphill which sets me back a little. I had calculated earlier that I needed to average better than 14 mph for 8 hours to finish in time. Going up that slight incline I was going 9mph, into the wind and struggling. At that point, about 10:30am I thought I wasn't going to make it. What a sad day it was going to turn out to be. You are a sad, sad man. Then the wind went away and I made it up to the turn around point. With the slight downhill I started to pick up speed and confidence. I think about my mom a lot on my longer event. I know she and my grandmother are watching over me whenever I race. Sometimes I would talk to them out loud when I need something extra. They were with me all day today. Two hours into the bike and I was feeling better though my butt was starting to hurt. Volunteers at the bike special needs stop were fantastic while I took a pit stop at a port-
o-pottie. I finished lap one at about the crack of noon to cheers from the crowd which again is so uplifting. There were some people on the side of the road dressed as chickens that I thought was weird and even more weird when I heard them cheering my name. Later I found out that was the crazy Forrestall family. My way out on lap two was similar-riding into the wind. Towards the end of my second lap a course marshall on a motorcycle passed me and stayed steady just ahead of me on my left. Maybe they were checking on my passes to make sure they were legal? Was I giving enough room and not drafting? Were they actually paying attention to me? Then quicker than you can say "lapped again" the pros went whizzing by. It was cool but what a downer. Wouldn't that be nice to be finishing the bike right now? It was the hottest part of the day, I was tired of eating gels, out of my pre-mix beverage and my butt was hurtin' something fierce. It's a tradition for the race winners to come back to the finish line late in the evening to welcome in the last of the participants. Would I see them again when I hopefully finish close to midnight? I would have to make the third lap with just a handful of stragglers, cutting the on-course beverage and milking the bag of gel blasts. The cut off to start the last bike lap was 3:00pm and I made that by about 45 minutes. It started to feel lonely seeing the aid stations thin out and pack up. I had to make it to the turnaround on Beeline Hwy by 4:15pm. The sun started to go down and I was one of the last ones left on the bike. The thighs were doing okay but occasionally
I would feel a twitch. Please no cramping! Luckily it didn't happen until the end. My ass was really hurting now and I had to keep getting off the saddle to keep it at bay which didn't help the quads but you do what you have to. Grande Pride kicked in again and I cruised into town at about 4:20pm and I was so relieved.T2. So happy to be off my bike, taken away again by a helpful volunteer. Ecstatic to be back in the transition tent with my run bag, another banana and a fresh bottle of PowerBar Endurance. If I took my time in the tent after the swim, I REALLY took my time after the bike. If there was a couch in there I would have laid down on it though several people were suffering in there worse than I was. One Japanese fellow looked delirious and was having trouble conversing with one of the volunteers. Again, I was trying to take it all in. I didn't know for how long I was in the tent but my butt was feeling better, I was glad that the sun was still out and that the run was all that was left to do. Of course someone in the tent had to ask, "Anyone want to go do a marathon?" Yeah, very funny. With that I slapped on my visor and headed out for a little jog but I was stopped as I exited again. This time it was a different set of ASU ladies but again offering an enticing sunscreen lotion rub down. I was pretty crusty and stinky but it felt really good. They were troopers.
26.2 Mile run. Did I tell you I was happy to be out on the run? All I had to do was finish before midnight and it was only about 4:30 or so. Piece of cake. I saw Jon Robichaud as I made the first left along the water. It was so great to see a familiar face after hours of talking to myself. Then a little bit later I saw Jessica which was awesome. She asked how I was doing and I said I was fine and happy to be on the run. I was going slow and steady and being passed by people on their second or third laps. Each run lap was a little less than 9 miles each so there would be plenty of time to get to know the course. Within the first few miles I met a lady from Canada named Mary who was a multiple Ironman finisher. She was super nice and she described how she had a tough swim because the water was so cold. Apparently when they pulled her out of the water she was visibly suffering from hypothermia and two large medical gentlemen had to hug her to bring up her temperature. They were threatening to pull her from the race but eventually let her go. We talked for a few miles then I let her go ahead because I was starting to not feel so good in the stomach. Looking back on it now it might have been that I was eating and drinking too much (from going so slowly) but at the time I was sincerely
hungry. As Romeo and I like to say, "We could always eat" and I guess that means during a race as well. The sun was going down and the night would be upon us soon. About midway through that first lap it was mostly running mixed in with a little walking and then mostly walking. When the nausea decided to stick around I had to switch into survival mode. I was planning each aid station and what I would do nutrition wise well before I got there. The volunteers were great, always asking what you needed and more than willing to go get it. At the start of the second lap I saw Jessica again and she asked how I was doing. "I feel like I need to throw up." I responded. She gave some words of encouragement along with instructions to not throw up near her. The second lap was really lonely. With the sun already set, it was starting to get cold so I grabbed a shirt from my run special needs bag. I was super lucky I threw that shirt in there because I almost didn't. Next time I'll put in a long sleeve as well. Then the volunteers start handing out the glow sticks which, although is for your safety, it makes you feel like you're the last one left on course. The reality was that I would be one of the last ones. I tried to take in a little coke here, some chicken broth there, some pretzels here a few gel blasts there. I jogged when I could, walked when I couldn't and just told myself I needed to keep moving. Throughout the last several hours I was calculating where I had to be to make the last cutoff. I k
new I could go harder if I needed to and if I gutted it out I could have finished around 11:00pm. I made the decision that I would not try to kill myself just to finish a half hour earlier. With about 5 miles to go I befriended Alan from Wisconsin. He too was a multiple Ironman finisher who was frustrated about how he blew up on the bike. Triathlon was a hobby he had taken up in his 50's and now in his early 60's he had incorporated it into his lifestyle. I can only hope that I am still doing triathlons when I get there. With several hundred yards to go I separated from Alan so I could try to enjoy the last bit of the race by myself.16:29:41. It was closing in on midnight but you couldn't tell it from the spectators in the stands. They seemed to be cheering as loud as they could and it was music to my ears. I didn't notice a thing around me as I was drawn to the clock under the overhang. It's true that the finish line makes all your hurt go a way. It makes it all the training, as much or little as it might be
, worthwhile. I will be the first to admit that I didn't train as much as much as I should have or as I would have liked but it didn't matter anymore. At the finish line volunteers grabbed me, wrapped a mylar blanket around me and asked how I felt. I felt great. They asked if I had a friend of family member with me and then magically Jess showed up with a hug and a kiss. I was hungry for something solid. At the San Jose International Triathlon one year they had stir fried noodles, nice and salty. I thought thought sounded good. There was cold pizza- it was okay. The over-salted fries were gross. I was in a daze from being out there so long but I was so happy I finished.I made all the cut offs. As a bonus I met a few new cool people. And my not so secret goal- I didn't come in last.
