The last few years have been a challenge for me as an endurance athlete. Injuries and nutritional issues have limited my performance at all of my long course events. To say that it had been tough to stay motivated would be a gross understatement and I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever be able to regain my form from many years ago.

This is hardly an optimum frame of mind to be in prior to a major competition but it was the reality that I was faced with for Ironman Arizona. Ironman is not a sport of half measures. To do it requires structure, dedication, discipline and sacrifice and this becomes more and more difficult to find as you throw yourself against one wall after another.

The professional men’s race at Arizona took off in a hurry. Long before the sun rose on race morning athletes were lining up to compete. The start list looked more like Hawaii than a domestic race in early April with 49 pro men including the likes of Tim Deboom, Michael Lovato, Spencer Smith, Francois Chabaud and Petre Vabrousek .

I did my best to ignore this but the hype gets to everyone eventually and in mid February I was beginning to feel anxious and worried. Soon after, I was beginning to dread the event and second guess my decision to race. It took me several weeks to come to terms with this, to recognize the feelings for the destructive force they were and to acknowledge them as natural and move on. Once I did, I managed to finish my build with consistency and enjoyment.

My wife Andrea and I had long decided that we would drive out to the race and stay in our RV. The idea of being surrounded by our own stuff and cooking our own meals has become more and more attractive as the years go by and traveling looses its appeal. We pulled into Tempe a week in advance and took up residence in a snowbird community not far from the race site. The people were friendly and tried not to look at us too strangely when we told them why we were in town and how long the race was. A few of them even offered up some tips.

Race week was relaxed and I enjoyed being away from the triathlon community. The separation allowed me to spend a finite amount of time focusing on the things that were important for race day without dwelling on all the possible things that could go wrong. Race morning rolled around and I was calm, relaxed and excited to be underway.

It had been a while since I did a one loop swim course and the first leg of the swim seemed to take forever. I knew a group of swimmers had gotten away from me at the start and I was unhappily towing along the first major chase group. As we rounded the second turn I took advantage of the chaos to slide back in the pack and let someone else lead us home.

 Photo courtesey of Tim Moxey (Digital Triathlon)

The second half of the swim passed blissfully quickly and we were soon back on dry land. I had resigned myself to a slow swim time thinking all the key players had gotten away from me at the start but I was pleasantly surprised to find myself exiting the water with Tim Deboom.

The first transition passed in a flash with only a couple of images sticking out in my mind. I remember sitting in a chair as a volunteer tried to pull my wetsuit off me and managed to stretch the leg clear across the change tent. I also remember some other pro having to jump the stretched legs like some hurdle in the steeplechase. The best memory though was fellow Austinite, JD (Katherine Dean’s Husband) hand me my bike and give me a high five.

The bike in Tempe is cosmetically challenged. We joked all week that it looked more like Junk Yard Wars meets Ironman than anything else. To be kind would be to call it flat and industrial. With nothing to look at, all I could do was stare at my computer and remind myself to ride my own race as the other pros came screaming by me. I exited the water in the top 10 but by mile ten I was sitting in approximately 20th. It was humbling and frustrating at the same time. My goal had always been to ride the first loop conservatively and that’s what I had committed to do. By the halfway point, the bleeding had stopped and the time gaps stabilized. As we headed back out for loop two, I began to see familiar faces coming back to me and midway through lap three I had regained all my lost headway.

The last thing I wanted to do when I got into T2 was run a marathon. My legs were heavy, my back hurt and I was hot, Hot, HOT! Sitting down to put on my shoes, all I could think about was how hot I was so I asked for some ice. The volunteers had about a dozen ice packs stuffed down my shirt before the words even left my mouth. What the bike course lacked was more than made up for by the enthusiasm and helpfulness of the guys in the change tent.

  Photo courtesey of Tim Moxey (Digital Triathlon)

Exiting T2 I just tried to put one foot in front of the other. Going into the race I had wanted to run sub 3:00, exiting T2, I just wanted to keep moving. With this in mind I headed out on the first lap taking it one step at a time.  I spent the first four miles plodding along and stuffing as much ice as I could get my hands on down my shorts, under my hat and in my jersey. As I came through mile 5, I began to come around and feel better. I got a pleasant surprise as I passed my wife heading out and she blew me a kiss.  Anyone who knows her knows that in a race she’s usually stoic (to say the least). This was a rare moment. I blew her one back and took off with a much lighter step.  

My running came and went in waves. I’d feel good for a while then not so good. I focused hard on staying relaxed when I felt good and staying patient when I didn’t and the marathon soon disappeared. I managed to catch a few of the quicker cyclists on my second lap and but the third lap turned into a death march. With three miles to go I got passed for the last time by Petr Vabrousek from the Czech Republic. I fought hard and tried every trick in my book to go with him but to no avail. After about a mile, I lost him to the crowds and was soon alone again fighting my way to the finish.

I can only try to describe the emotions running through me when I crossed the finish line. They were not the blind euphoria and happiness that I felt when I completed my first Ironman but rather an overwhelming sense of accomplishment and relief. It was my fastest Ironman time in five years and I was ecstatic but also disappointed at same time. The beauty of Ironman is that you never reach that perfect day. Even at the best of times you’re left with the feeling that you could have done something better. For me this is part of the challenge and appeal of the sport. It is the pursuit that is the challenge and for me Ironman Arizona represents my rediscovery of the thrill of the chase.

Ironman Arizona

Sunday April 9, 2006

2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, 26.2 mile run

Men

1. Michael Lovato (USA)                       8:20:56
2. Spencer Smith (GBR)                         8:22:56
3. Tim DeBoom (USA)                           8:27:39
4. Swen Sundberg (GER)                       8:30:07
5. Sergio Marques (POR)                        8:31:26
6. Stijn Demeulemeester (BEL)            8:39:26
7. Jens Koefoed (DEN)                          8:42:41
8. Petr Vabrousek (CZE)                        8:44:54
9. Jamie Cleveland (USA)                      8:46:42
10. Dave Harju (CAN)                           8:51:14

Women
1. Michellie Jones (AUS)                        9:11:11
2. Heather Gollnick (USA)                     9:33:25
3. Hillary Biscay                                       9:43:36
4. Desiree Ficker                                       9:44:56
5. Jess Draskau Petersson                       9:48:34
6. Tereza Macel                                         9:50:37
7. Miranda Stacey                                     10:08:09
8. Ute Mueckel                                         10:12:50
9. Marie Danais                                         10:29:53
10. Lisa Desidera                                      10:33:15