It’s that time of the year again, to take a look back on this past year and reflect on my race performances and training. During this year’s training, I traversed a total of:

• 33,6217 yards or 191 miles of swimming
• 2,039 miles of cycling
• 1,023 miles of running

I started the year with three goals. But just to let you know up front, I only achieved one of them. They were:

1. Complete an Ironman triathlon.
2. Finish in the top 5 of the Malibu Triathlon.
3. Qualify for the Boston Marathon.

You might recall I started 2011 with a hip injury I incurred last December during the Tuscon Marathon. So I remember focusing on rehabilitation, strength, and conditioning for the first quarter of the year. With some great physical therapy, I recovered in time to make my running debut at the San Dieguito half marathon. That course was a lot of fun with quite a few rolling hills. Although I quasi-promised my physical therapist that I would run it in two hours, I was very pleased with my time of 1:47.

Easing my way back into running, my buddy and I were shooting for a sub-5 hr time at the Oceanside race. I ended up having a decent race. But for the second year in a row, I suffered with cramps during the run portion of the race after a good bike split. I can’t be too disappointed with my time of 5:27. There’s still a lot of work to be done in the coming year if I expect to have any chance of finishing this tough course in under five hours. This year I plan to do more strength training. I’m hoping that going back to the gym will help mitigate against cramps by building up my muscular strength. I find it difficult not to go too hard while cycling so I can have enough juice for the run. I’m reluctant to ease up on the bike portion since it’s my strongest part of triathlon.

The middle portion of 2011 focused on training for Ironman Coeur d’Alene. When I look back on the training and the race itself, it’s unimaginable that I even did that race. Seriously, I am amazed at how driven I was. Training seemed like having a second job, with 15-18 hrs of training per week in addition to working full time. At this point, I do not plan on doing another Ironman in 2012. I can’t see myself doing that insane training again during the next twelve months.

There aren’t very many people in the world who can claim the moniker of Ironman, so I’ll always be proud of that. After having completed the biggest race of my life, I honestly believe I can do almost anything I put my mind to, with or without diarrhea! You’ll have to read my Ironman race report to understand that one.

Other than the race experience itself, the peak of physical fitness and endurance that I felt the week before the race was an unbelievable feeling. My training certainly prepared for that race because the feeling of power, speed, and strength that I felt is indescribable.

For the rest of the year, my remaining races can literally be described as having been influenced by post-Ironman after effects. There were some more shining moments as I worked towards the next two goals for the year, the Malibu triathlon and an attempt to qualify for Boston as the California International Marathon.

A week after the Ironman, I attempted to do a tempo run. I was able to run one mile at a fast pace, but then my body just would not cooperate. Against my better judgment I had decided to race the Solana Beach triathlon, exactly one month after the Ironman. My motivation was low. Physically, I felt about 80%, but mentally, I just did not want to be at the race. Despite these obvious negative factors, I chose to show up to the race. About an hour before the race, I saw another friend, Erik, who was also racing. He also happens to be in the same age group as me, and then I felt my competitive juices spark, Suddenly, I found my motivation! And I had a really good race, finishing with my fastest sprint time. And I beat Erik by over five minutes, so that was good too!

By mid-August I also started a 16-week training program that my training partner (another Eric) and I were using to get ready for a Boston qualification attempt. The program consisted of three key runs each week: a speed workout, a tempo run, and a long run. At its peak, Eric and I were schedule to run about 30 miles per week for about four or five weeks out of the sixteen, very grueling.

Sandwiched in between all these runs, I raced the Malibu triathlon in September. It was my second year doing the race, and one of the main attractions of the race are the beautiful podium medals awarded to the top five finishers in each age group. Similar to the prior year, I raced most of the course “alone”, not seeing many other athletes in my age group. But this year, I felt slightly fatigued for the entire race. I attribute it to all the running. Despite my 7th place finish, there was only a few seconds separating me from 5th place (and a podium medal). Although it was a good race for me, I still felt slightly disappointed. Because of the slight fatigue, I started to wonder if my body was starting to let me down.

By October, I believe I peaked in terms of my running endurance and speed for this training program. By mid-October, the fatigue was very noticeable. More often than not, I missed my pace targets during my workouts. I started to feel tired after running only three or four miles. I struggled to barely run 7-minute miles.

In spite of all the fatigued running, I raced in my final triathlon of the year at the Big Rock Triathlon in Lake Perris. In spite of my physical fatigue, I geared up for the race mentally, and set out to do really really well. I put out my best performance in a sprint race, winning 1st place in my age group and finishing 12th overall. It was such an amazing feeling to see the final results for each split. I even had the second fastest bike split for the entire race. Simply amazing.

A few weeks after that race, I was struggling through the first eight miles of a 20-mile training run with Eric. After the first four miles, I said: “If I knew I could get a full refund for the marathon, I would drop out right now.” What a chore it was to finish that 20 miles, very tired and very slow. My body had finally had enough. After the run, Eric messaged me, and said that he would drop out of the race if I did. And so we both decided to drop out of the December marathon.

I felt so relieved.

But the fatigued running did not go away. I displayed some classic symptoms of overtraining: decreased motivation, mental fatigue, physical fatigue, and especially decreased performance despite hard training. So I ended my year with a much needed two-week break from running. And as if to punctuate my body’s need for rest, I caught a bad flu on Christmas Day, which basically put me out of commission for the remainder of 2011.

I look forward to renewed training and racing in 2012. It sure beats sitting around the house feeling miserable with fever and congested sinuses!

Big Rock Sprint Triathlon Medal

It was a last minute decision to enter this race, the last tri of the season. Make no mistake. My main motivation was to podium and get a shiny medal. Is that lame? Oh well, who cares, right?

I raced the Sprint event last year and missed 3rd place in my age group by 2.3 seconds. That stung, especially since I tanked out, aka didn’t go all out, for the last quarter mile. I vowed to make it a different race this time around. If I didn’t get a medal this time, it would not be because I wimped out during my sprint to the line.

Pre-race preparations starting the day before did not go well. I spent most of my Friday afternoon setting up, configuring, and all around geeking out with my new iPhone 4s that arrived in the mail. Although a good thing, needless to say, staying up late oohing and aahing over my super cool phone did not make for a good night’s sleep/rest for the race since I hurried to start packing my race bag at 9:30 PM with a wake up alarm looming at 3:00 AM, and heading out the door by 4:00 AM.

The drive was relatively uneventful save for the occasional slowing to navigate through some fog that obscured my view through the windshield. I reached the Lake Perris State Recreation Area (SRA) a little after 5:00 AM with darkness still enveloping everything. Volunteers were arriving at about the same time. I could tell that the race organizers were still setting up for the race.

That’s one of the things I like about this race. It’s so casual and laid back. Take the Transition Area. You just kinda show up and pick any spot you want, no assigned spots. And so I picked the end spot of the second rack near Bike In/Out. I set up my transition area relatively slowly under the light emanating from the narrow beam of the headlamp I wore. Setting up the area seemed automatic to me, and so I found it amusing to hear the banter going on between a n00b first-timer asking 101 questions to another more experienced female racer. The n00b had brought her one-ton mountain bike to the race. I chuckled when I heard them talking about the swimsuit with laces she was wearing and where she would change into her bike clothes after the swim.

I went for my 10-minute/1 mile warm up a little after 6:00 AM so I could be back in time for the pre-race talk and do a swim warm-up before my start time of 7:36 AM. Oh yea, if anyone has any idea why my bowels go hogwild before races, please let me know. I think I must have gone to the porta-potty seven times (and only three trips were for #1). BTW another thing I like about this race is the prayer the race director does before the race. I think it’s refreshing.

This year, there were four waves. The race keeps growing in size. Last year, I think there were only two waves. This year, there were 129 athletes in the Sprint event and seven in my age group. I started in Wave 3. I did a little pre-swim swim. The water was comfortably warm, not to mention FRESHwater. Oh how I love freshwater swims more than ocean. It’s more like a pool and I don’t have the same panicky feeling that I get whenever I swim in saltwater.

The same fog that slowed me down on the road in the morning prevented the police from giving the all clear on the bike course, and so all the waves were delayed by over 15 minutes. Despite the delayed start I wasn’t anxious about the swim. During my warm-up I got a good feel for what I wanted my level of effort to be for the swim portion. My main concern was to complete the swim at a race pace (hopefully under 2:00 min/100 meters) that wouldn’t jack up my heart rate too high so I could avoid respiratory failure.

To minimize my typical swim fears of getting kicked, punched, or ran over in the water, I decided to start mid-pack, letting the more enthusiastic athletes go ahead of me. When the horn went off, I plowed into the water behind the front group amid lots of splashing, frantic strokes, and bodies everywhere. I even managed to receive a nice punch to the head … so much for my strategy to avoid physical contact. I’m pretty proud of how I handled the initial foray into the water. With the initial jockeying for space over and done with, I focused more on staying relaxed and consistent, pulling with medium-long strokes.

Surprisingly, I began to pass a lot of athletes wearing the same blue-colored swim cap as me. Quickly, I put the surprise out of my head and told myself to just keep doing what I was doing. By the time I reached the quarter-mile turnaround buoy I had reached the stragglers from Wave 2 in white caps, and as far as I could tell, I didn’t see any blue caps around. Turnaround buoys always motivate me because they signal that my least favorite part of the race is almost over. I picked up the pace as I neared the end of the swim, wary that my heart rate and breathing were not relaxed anymore. I didn’t really care at that point because the run back to the transition area is really really really long, so I knew I would have time to catch my breath. Coming out of the water, I couldn’t tell who was in my wave anymore as no one was wearing their swim caps as they ran back to T1. Later I learned that I was first out of the water in my age group with a time of 0:14:24.

T1 was uneventful. Nobody else at my rack was there. I had caught my breath from the long run to transition, and it was because of this I believe that I was able to remove my wetsuit with the least amount of difficulty than in the 15 preceding triathlons I have raced. Oh, and it was also probably due to my new practice of sitting down and sliding the wetsuit leg down towards my ankles as low as possible before using two hands to remove the pesky wetsuit. Although better, I still have much time to remove from T1 to become even more competitive.

With the swim behind I focused on my favorite part of triathlon: cycling. The main thing I worried about was not having done a lot of cycling training since training for Ironman Coeur d’Alene last June. My training regimen since then has focused primarily on running (i.e. training for a Boston Marathon-qualifying race in December). With about 30 miles of running on my legs each week, I was a little worried about fatigue, especially in my quads.

For a sprint triathlon, Big Rock’s 12-mile bike course is longer than most. But the course is mostly flat with a short, steep hill riding back into the Lake Perris SRA at about mile 10 or so. I used the first three-quarters mile to get settled, catch my breath from the swim, and find my legs so that I could cruise for approximately 10 miles until the hill. Similar to the swim, I found a rhythm at the cadence I thought I could sustain for 10 miles. Let the passing begin. It seemed that I was zooming by other athletes continuously. So far so good. My legs held up, surprisingly, to sustain my pace over the 10 miles at 24+ mph. I had one of those a-ha moments while riding: “Wow, is this really happening?” I knew it would be a good bike split. After the race I learned I was first in my age group and second overall for the bike course with a time of 0:33:38. The fastest bike split on the course was 0:32:03 owned by the dude who won the overall race.

After a little skirmish into the bike in finish chute… okay that’s probably a little dramatic… there was this one joker who thought two bikes could fit through a narrow road leading into the bike chute, even while I was taking my feet out of my shoes. JERK! Well, maybe I called him a more expressive name. Anyways, after a quick 46-second transition in T2, I began the 5K, determined to hunt down the wonderful person who almost made me fall while I was in the bike finish lane. By this time, I definitely felt slightly fatigued in my legs and lungs, but it was obvious to me I was having a really, really good race. I thought I was 3rd into T2, but after the race I learned was 14th.

It’s very strange to be so close to the finish as one of the leaders in the race. So quiet. So empty. Oh, and I passed that joker within the first half mile. Good thing he had to pass me while finishing the bike course. The few seconds he gained there were so valuable. I rocked him on the run, and never saw him again. An added bonus for me was that when I passed him, I saw from the body markings on his leg that he was in my age group.

It wasn’t the best 5K in a triathlon I’ve run, but it was good. My run time was 0:22:21 (7:11/mile). I did get passed once by someone not in my age group. He was flying. My most memorable feeling or thought during the run was realizing that I was one of the top athletes in the race, and because the run was a loop I was able to count the people returning towards the finish line. This count let me know my exact overall finish in the race. So if you count male and female athletes, I was 13th overall. With regards to the official race results (males only), I was 12th overall in a field of 129. My final time of 1:15:51 was also good for a first place finish in my age group.

So stoked. I had not won a triathlon medal in three years, not since my very first ever super sprint triathlon. This one, however, was more enjoyable because it was my first podium in a real triathlon.

Big Rock Sprint Triathlon First Place Medal

Surprisingly, I’m pretty happy about my 7th place age group finish at the Nautica Malibu Classic this past Sunday. No, it wasn’t a podium finish. Yea, for sure, I’m a little disappointed that 36 seconds separated me from a medal, but nevertheless, I am pleased. And so I celebrate my accomplishment and improvement over last year’s Malibu race.

By the numbers… Official time was 1:37:09. From last year, Swim was 1:09 faster, T1 was 0:27 faster, Bike was 0:25 faster, T2 was 0:02 faster, but Run was 0:12 slower. Oh, and I beat all the individual celebrities, except the top male celeb, who was a former professional NFL player.

Certainly, there were a couple of things I could have done better like maybe swim faster (I “stopped” to sight about three times – I could kick myself for that). Sure I could have fought harder in the end to keep my lead over 6th place, who re-passed me in the last 20 seconds of the race. Despite these two little hiccups in my race, I recognize my swimming has improved, but I definitely need to continue working hard at it to improve even more. Another plus is that I’ve consistently placed in the top 10 of my age group in these non-Ironman races. So in this field of 105 for my group, I’m right there so close that I can taste the metal of that medal.

What I really wanted to write about after Malibu is not so much about the race itself, but rather about this blog. A close friend from my UCLA days suggested I write on a more personal level:

Thought for you. You have been consistently posting your times for training. How about turning the corner and story telling? Pull the curtains back on your own experience going from an inactive to agressive triathlete? Just a thought. You write well and you have lots of life changing experience now.

A very interesting proposition, one that would definitely take up more of my limited time. I figure I would give it a try for a little bit now and then instead of my regular, mundane race reports. Here are a few topics I’ve thought about exploring:

• Why I don’t like exercise
• Why improvement is not good enough
• What drives me
• What motivates me to wake up at 4:00 am most days a week to jump in a pool or run (aka WTF is wrong with you?)
• How do I endure long hours of training or maybe a better question is why?
• Why suffer when you could be sleeping in

Would any of my readers find these topics even remotely interesting? That is, of course, assuming I have at least one reader other than myself.

Of course, there is the tried and true: “What? You lost how many pounds and now you are a triathlete?” Or “Huh? You used to look like a blob and now you have a hot middle-aged body?”

Okay, stop laughing.

Seriously though, I’m reluctant to write more about my former struggles with weight. For almost all my life, I was the fat guy. I don’t want to be known as the guy who used to be fat. Quite frankly, I don’t have patience for obese people. They are wasting their life away. And losing weight is not what drives me now in my triathlon pursuits. Losing weight is what exercise is for. And then once you lose the weight, you’re done with exercise. Not me, man. I still have dreams to go after, even at age 45. And exercise is not a part of those dreams. My dreams are realized through ambition, discipline, hard work, perseverance, endurance, and training.

So this has been a very strange race report. If there is anyone out there reading my blog, please take a moment to comment and let me know if I should write a little differently from time to time. I appreciate your feedback.

That’s how I felt mentally coming into the Solana Beach Triathlon four weeks out on the flip side of Ironman Coeur d’Alene. Physically, this past week was the first week that I felt I was back at full strength, able to do regular workouts without feeling fatigued after 15 minutes. But if I had to do it over again, I definitely would not be signing up for any races for at least one month or more after completing an Ironman.

Is this the new normal when I actually sleep well before a race? Or is it a sign of waning motivation? In any case, I felt very rested waking up at 3:30 AM even if it was only five hours of sleep. Out the door at 4:45 AM with Gooberfish (racing in the Duathlon), and we still were not even close to being the first ones in line to enter Transition even at 5:15 AM. I finished setting up my transition area (in between going to the bathroom four times), then waited around for about 2.5 hours before the old fogies wave started at 8:25 AM. I chatted it up with an “old friend” (emphasis on old), Erik, from LA Fitness. We’re back in the same AG again since I turned 45; and with him being a venerable 47, we have couple of years to fan the flames of this “old rivalry”. Erik, why do you keep describing me as old?

Even as I put my wetsuit on to mozy on down to the beach for a warm-up swim, I just could not find any motivation to do this race. It wasn’t until I lined up at the front of the start line—why did I do that? Must be a glutton for punishment—that I started to feel the spark of competition again. I reviewed my three goals for this race:

1. Swim as hard as possible without hyperventilating. (Cue Star Wars: Let go of your feelings, Luke… Fear is of the Dark Side).
2. Kill yourself on the run (i.e. sub-7:00 minutes/mile).
3. And yes, I’m putting it out in writing: Cross the finish line before any “old rivals”!

Swim

When the horn went off for the swim, I ran onto the beach, no difficulties there. I dolphin dove to get over the water as it got a little deeper. When the water was almost waist high I started swimming. Here I questioned my strategy to start in the front when multiple people started to pass me, and I found myself in the middle of a crowded pack of swimmers. Mentally, I stayed focus on getting to the first buoy. Knowing it was not that far away helped keep my breathing relatively calm. As I made the turn right I found some comfort knowing the most unenjoyable part of this race was almost over. Not sure I was that successful in trying to keep my heart rate down because I could feel a slight sense of tiredness in my stroke, but I kept plugging forward as I headed back to the shore. I looked at my watch as I finished the swim. It looked like 10:xx. But I shrugged it off in disbelief.

T1

I have a love-hate relationship with the run back to the transition area. I love the fact there is a steep hill to run up after the swim. I hate the fact there is a steep hill to run up after the swim. On my way up the beach Gooberfish yelled out my time of 10:4x. It was true! I started to believe I could have a pretty good lead to build on instead of trying to catch up so much.

As I ran back to my bike I saw another Breakaway guy in my wave already headed out onto the bike course. Key point: he looked like someone who I thought finished 3^rd in the AG at Ironman Kansas 70.3. I didn’t worry so much about my transition coming up because I thought I might be able to catch and pass him on the bike course.

In any case my main goal was to get my wetsuit off as fast as possible. I think I was faster this time around. I decided to go with removing the left leg first since the left has given me difficulty in the past, but the right leg decided not to cooperate. Despite this minor glitch, I decided to celebrate in my mind that at least my T1 was faster than before.

Bike

This is such an easy, two-loop bike course, so flat and fast. The only change from when I last raced here was a right turn across a primary crosswalk/intersection.

<rant>Hey Koz, that’s just plain stupid and unsafe. Why not just extend the course on the straightaway parts instead of having us make a right turn, followed by an immediate U-turn?</rant>

Oh well, no sweat off my back. Fortunately, I didn’t hit any pedestrians foolish enough to walk through this intersection. I heard another athlete was not so fortunate.

I averaged 22.7 mph and 266 watts. Pretty good. I’ll chalk it up to a little tiredness from the swim for not reaching 24 mph average. I noticed that the bike course was not too crowded even though I was in the penultimate wave to start the race; I only had to yell “on your left” once. Before the end of the first loop, I passed “Mr. 3^rd AG”, which kicked my motivation up to another level. According to my watch, I finished the 9-mile course in about 23 minutes.

T2

Out of my shoes before the dismount, I felt good heading into T2. I was the first one back from my bike rack; all the other bikes were still there.

[Mental note: that’s never happened to me before, so I started to feel even better about my race, motivation meter through the roof.]

Bike racked, helmet off, shoes on, and most importantly, BLUE visor on and ready to go. I think my total transition time was less than 30 seconds (not sure since I forgot to press the lap button right when I crossed over the transition mat).

Run

With “Mr. 3^rd AG” behind me by a long ways and no “old rivals” in sight, I made up my mind not to give up this lead over them. So I headed out for what I hoped would be a sub-7:00 min/mile, two-loop 5k. It was fun knocking over two water cups out of two volunteers’ hands as I ran by trying to grab some water. Third cup worked: the volunteer actually held the cup properly, palm up on the bottom making it easy for me to grab the cup from the top. Took a small swig of water, poured the rest on my head, and then tried to slow down my breathing. But my lungs were burning so bad.

Gawd, I felt like a snail. My legs were so heavy. Gooberfish saw me out on the first part of the run. Told me I was moving well, but clearly suffering. What an understatement. I was pretty much grunting and yelling in my breaths for almost the entire run, lungs burning.

As I neared the end of the first loop I saw my “rival” who was just starting the run. I was more than one mile ahead of him at that point so I knew that he would have to run at a ridiculous pace to catch me. But I didn’t relax my pace at all. I feared that “Mr. 3^rd AG”, who is a faster runner than me, would overtake me so I pressed on for the remaining 1.5 miles.

As I headed around the final turn with about ¾ miles to go, someone advised me to keep pouring it on, but not waste so much energy with the grunting and yelling. Good point. So I mentally focused more on staying quiet, trying to be efficient, and controlling my breaths.

I was pretty stoked about my run (ended up with right at 7:00/7:01 min/mile) and this race in general. By my count, only three people passed me on the run, none of who were in my AG. I crossed the line with an official time of 1:00:26. Good enough for 8^th place (in a division field of 66) and 96^th overall (in a total field of 1108).

It turns out that “Mr. 3^rd AG” was not in this race after all. Good thing though because believing he was chasing me helped me work through the pain of burning lungs for the run. Very, very pleased with my race.

It’s time to keep training, working to shave off two more minutes from my swim and two or three minutes from my run. I’ve got a ways to go before I can earn some bling at these sprints.

This is the sixth and final article in the Ironman Chronicles series.

Well, I did it! I am officially an Ironman, one of the elite few people who have competed in a triathlon swimming 2.4 miles, biking 112 miles, and then running a marathon (26.2 miles). 1406. is my new favorite number.

I think this whole race was highly unusual for me. First off, my business trip earlier in the week totally distracted me from the race so I didn’t even think too much about it. I thought that was a good thing, not having a lot of pent up nervous energy. Then for the first time in three years, I actually got a full night’s sleep before a race, 7 hours.

My main concern about this race was the swim. The weather here in Coeur d’Alene can change from day to day. But the stars must have been aligned today because the weather was picture perfect with minimal wind to kick up the waves and cause a swell in the lake. So basically the water was very calm.

After dropping off our Bike Special Needs and Run Special Needs bags, Eric and I got ready for the swim in the changing tent. We basically just sat in the tent since it was warm and waited until about 6:00 AM to put on our wetsuits. The race starts promptly at 7:00 AM with a mass start, basically 3000 male and female athletes jockeying for position in the water.

Swim (1:28:22)

Eric and I chose to start in the mid-rear and to the right, letting all the would-be “I think I’m going to qualify for Kona” people fight for space. Despite this starting position, I managed to get punched, poked, prodded, kicked, bumped for most of the first loop of the two-loop 2.4-mile swim. This was something I really was not prepared for, and it negatively affected my swimming form. As a result, I got extremely flustered, sighted poorly so that I swam zig zag instead of straight, and drank a lot of water. I’m disappointed with my swim time because I know that I can swim this distance 12 minutes faster in the pool.

T1 (11:04)

Transition was interesting. Frantic, naked bodies everywhere struggling to take off swim gear and put on bike gear. My first frustration was listening to Eric and not putting on my arm coolers underneath my wetsuit before the swim. As a result, my arms were wet, and it was extremely difficult to put them on, so I wasted a lot of time. Oh well, it is what it is. Next time, I trust my instincts.

Bike (5:51:36)

The bike course at Coeur d’Alene is moderately tough. It has a few rolling hills with two short, but steep climbs. It’s a two-loop course, so you have to suffer through the climbing two times. I’m glad to have hit my target wattage for this bike ride at 219 watts. I averaged 19 mph, which allowed me to finish the course in less than six hours. I know I could have ridden faster, but I purposely saved some energy for the run. However, even at 219 watts of power for the overall bike ride, I think it was still a bit too high, or at least too much for my current ability to run off the bike.

Oh one other item of import. The water I swallowed during the swim upset my stomach. So basically I felt sick from the time I finished the swim until the end of the race. I really wish I could have vomited the water out, but instead it came out the other end. I had to make two pit stops during the bike ride due to diarrhea.

I also was not sure what to do about my nutrition and hydration. My stomach was pretty full from the ingested lake water from the swim. But I decided to proceed with my normal drinking and eating plan. Biking didn’t have much impact on my stomach since it’s not a weight-bearing activity.

T2 (5:58)

Same thing for this transition, mass hysteria. I changed out of my bike gear and put on my tri gear, which is more tight fitting so there is less chance for rubbing against the skin while running. This transition was much better than the first.

Run (5:11:49)

Well, this was not my greatest marathon run by any means. I had some cramping in my quads again so basically i would run somewhat slowly until my legs started cramping. And then I would walk until the cramps went away. Running seemed to aggravate my stomach even more, jostling all the liquid around and I had to make five bathroom stops during the marathon. The entire run was just blah. It was difficult to concentrate because all I could think about was not pooping in my shorts while running. I did a lot of run, then walk. So it was not very pretty.

I’m actually pretty happy with my overall time. My bike ride saved me from disaster. My personal goal was to finish under 13 hours, and I achieved that goal.

As I made the last turn towards the finish line with about 0.4 miles remaining, I really focused on the moment and savored the finish. The volunteers and community support was tremendous. There were numerous spectators lining both sides of the street and the finish chute. I made sure that there was enough leading space in front and behind me so that when Mike Riley announced my name, I would be the only one finishing and thus, the only name read for my finishing time.

I thought I would be more emotional as I neared the finish line. I did tear up a little bit, but then really just took in all the energy and excitement of the Ironman fans all around me. I pumped my fists in the air, which drew loud cheers from the crowd. As I entered the finishing chute, the person ahead of me was getting their name announced, so I zig zagged from right to left and slapped high fives with the spectators.

Then I heard those magical words:

Gerry de Ocampo, from San Marcos, California, YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!

And with that, I leapt in the air under the finish line banner with my right fist raised to the sky. My final time was 12:48:49.

I AM AN IRONMAN!

This is the fifth article in the Ironman Chronicles series.

Eric and I finished our last easy bike ride this morning. It was pretty cold, and we both decided to wear jackets tomorrow on race day. It’s projected to be about 47° by the time we get out of the water. Not only am I wearing a jacket, I’m also wearing toe covers on my shoes, arm coolers, arm warmers over the coolers, and leg warmers. The wind looked less active today, and you could tell the waves on the lake were smaller. But the wind was still strong enough to blow my bike. Need to be sure to stay alert during tomorrow’s ride.

After the ride we looked around the Ironman Village some more. And I bought some souvenirs for Maria & Tony. After lunch, we went for a 15-min jog. Then Eric visited with his bro, and I packed most of my bags for the return trip to San Diego.

Ate dinner at the hotel restaurant. Had some salad, clam chowder soup, and penne pasta with garlic butter and marinara sauce. Eric caught up with me at dinner time.

I have 8 bottles; Eric has 2.

Afterwards, we mixed our nutrition bottles. Eric requested a wake-up call for 3:30 AM. I set my alarm for 3:15. We leave on the hotel shuttle to Transition at 4:30 AM. The grand adventure begins with the canon going off at 7:00 AM.

Good night!

This is the fourth article in the Ironman Chronicles series.

There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens: (Ecclesiastes 3:1)

This is the time for Ironman.

My first time in Idaho. First time in Coeur d’Alene. It’s very scenic around the lake.

Lake Coeur d'Alene

My first Athlete Dinner at an Ironman race. I felt lost in a herd of cattle being led to a trough of food.

Athlete Dinner

My first time not needing my own race bag.

Race Bags

This is my time. And it’s my first Ironman.

This is the third article in the Ironman Chronicles series.

Mind games, really. Mind over matter. Sheer determination of the will. Overcoming, victorious, breakthrough. Is it fantasy or reality? Can I really will my mind to ignore fear? The race is less than two days away. What is the greatest obstacle I will have to overcome to complete this grand trek across 140.6 miles?

My mind tells me it’s my swimming.

Swimming is the dark dragon that still needs to be slain. I’ve trained extra hard since mid-May, swimming close to seven miles per week. I’ve seen my times in the pool drop from a 1:55/100 meters to about 1:45/100 meters.

All that seemed to have been erased today during my short, practice swim in choppy, freezing water in a dark, menacing lake. The only consolation was not having to taste nasty saltwater.

I wish I was the X-Men character, Storm. I’d make the wind disappear to make the lake as smooth as glass so that I wouldn’t have to get pounded in the face swimming into a wave crest every three strokes. But alas, I can’t control the weather on race day.

Don't know why this moose was at the lake, but we got a picture with it after our short practice swim.

I can only control my mind and my body. I can choose to recall that I’ve swum well in training. I can choose to remember that I’ve swum 4,000 meters on numerous occasions. And I can do it again in a lake on Sunday. Despite my dislike of swimming, I can choose to remember that I’ve been swimming since I was eight years old. That’s well over 36 years. So I can damn well swim 2.4 miles in freezing, choppy water if I put my mind to it.

This is the second article in the Ironman Chronicles series.

I love this sport. It fits perfectly with my personality. You know the type. Type A. You have to be regimented, disciplined, and organized. I guess you need to be if you want to remember all this sh*tuff you have to bring with you to race one of these Ironmans. My gawd! This is a lot of stuff.

Lots and lots of sh*tuff

And if you know anything about the typical triathlete doing an Ironman race, you also have to bring backups for the backup gear. Duplicate and triplicate items galore. Sheesh, I thought my “normal” checklist for a “regular” sprint triathlon was huge. But for IMCdA, I have eight checklists to help me remember everything I need to bring: bike, clothing, electronics, food, miscellaneous, nutrition, run, and swim. Then on top of it all, you have to buy more stuff, namely food, when you arrive at the race.

In addition to my bike, I brought three bags of gear: one huge Zoot race/travel bag, one TravelPro carry-on bag, and one gear bag (that I had transported by TriBike Transport, the company that drove my bike from San Diego to Idaho). I packed some pretty odd stuff for this race in June. For example, arm warmers and leg warmers. In June! Here at Coeur d’Alene, the weather could be anything: hot, warm, freezing, or rainy. I even packed a rain jacket. The latest weather forecast for Sunday looks perfect: moderate at 68° with water temperatures in the lake at 58° so hopefully I won’t need any warmers or jackets during the race.

Even with my eight hardcore checklists, apparently I forgot the most important Ironman Essentials below, slippers and Hershey’s Chocolate.

Ironman Essentials

This is the first article in the Ironman Chronicles series, which follows my journey during race week of my first Ironman.

Wow. Race week is here, and to be honest, I have not had much time to think about what I am about to embark on. The last two weeks at work have been sooooper crazy busy. Even though this was the only week in June during which I did not want to do any business travel, travelling to Norfolk for business earlier in the week ended up being a good distraction. It kept my mind off the race, protecting me from the fear (is that the right word?) of racing for 140.6 miles.

I’ve been asked quite a few times already: “Are you excited?” I think I’m getting there.

At least I know there’s is no turning back now. After all, I’m stuck here in the Seattle-Tacoma Airport waiting for my connecting flight to Spokane. Hope to see you on the other side… as an Ironman.