Well, I finished my first half ironman yesterday (1.2 mile swim, 56
mile bike, 13.1 mile run).

It was great. I started off the day before doing a charity 5K with my
daughter. Luckily for my sake she couldn’t run the whole course due to
her bilateral ankle reconstruction last year. I did not have a run
scheduled the day before my race. Tapering is a skill I’m trying to
master, but I guess I only have one speed: “On.”

I had packed the car and picked up my buddy, Joe Greaves. He has been
an inspiration to me. We train, we swim, we ride, we bodypump, etc. We
do it because we can, unlike 95% of the population. The drive was
uneventful, and we got there before 1 pm.

Registration caused us to walk 2 miles and wait in line for over an
hour in the sun. We ran back to Lawrence, ate for 2 minutes at Subway,
registered at the motel, and then headed back. We then had to carry
all of our stuff another 2 miles to dump it in the transition area for
the morning. Good thing we got there early. We had planned on a short
bike ride, but that just wasn’t in the cards. We were both tired from
the experience. Joe was having a lot of joint pain and aches and he
looked like he had the flu. Not a good omen the day before the race.
Then his bike computer started flashing, indicating a low battery.
GREAT. We picked up some batteries we hoped were the right size and
went back to the motel. We ate at a place downtown called Tellers,
which was okay Italian with Terry Hart and headed back to the hotel
for some much needed sleep.

At 3 am, I got woken up by a group of about 30 people fighting and
screaming outside the motel. Since I couldn’t go back to sleep after
the cops came, I got up, ate and got to the parking area at 4:30 am,
greeted by lighting and thunderstorms to the southeast. Got all the
crap out of the car and hiked down to T1. Got everything set, changed
the batteries in Joe’s bike computer and pumped up the tires. About a
half hour before the race, got the wetsuit on and we were ready to
roll. Hit the water after the older age groupers to the sounds of
Thunderstruck by AC/DC. Swam just fine until about 600 yards to go
when I had an allergy attack and I couldn’t stop sneezing. Thank
goodness I use a snorkel. That cost me about two minutes. Got to the
swim finish and ran straight to the bike. Mind you, there were 2000
participants in the race and we were pretty cramped for space.
Miraculously, I found my bike without difficulty.

Got on the bike and rolled it up the big hill to 62 degree, cloudy
weather. The bike always feels good to me, so I rocked for the first
five to ten miles and tried to back it off a little. The first turn-
around was at mile 24 and only then you realized you’ve been biking in
a 10-15 mph wind at your back. Wake up call! Hunkered down and it was
just fine. Roads were great with undulating hills. Can I point out
that many triathletes don’t know how to climb a hill? I was passed
with blistering speed down many downhills, but when it went back up, I
just lowered the gears and cranked away. Some very light rain along
the way, but a really enjoyable bike course, nonetheless.

Back to the transition area to the run. Hopped off the bike, ran
directly to my running gear (yes, I actually found my spot without
help OR delay) and realized I couldn’t bend over to put on the shoes
without my quads cramping up. Mmmm. That doesn’t seem right. Trotted
out to the run start and the quads went into complete tetany (think
total cramp). Ran like I came from the special olympics for a third of
a mile, thinking all sorts of bad thoughts, and finally stopped. I
massaged by quads and started running again. First mile was 9 minutes.
Second mile was 8:02. It all went downhill (literally and
figuratively) from there. I stopped and drank and walked at EVERY aid
station, dumping water over my head at every chance, since the weather
was now 85 and sunny, with humidity to match. I ran, I stopped, I
walked, I power-walked up the hill, and I ran some more. After mile
four, my left foot really started hurting, causing me to half to
forcibly pronate it. Ouch. I walked, I ran, I drank, and dumped
buckets of water over my body. I felt okay. After I passed the halfway
point on the run, I knew I was going to make it – no matter what. I
see-sawed with a 27 year old: he would run for a bit and then stop to
walk, while I did the same. After we passed each other about six
times, I told him he could relax, as he was at least 14 minutes ahead
of me! He gave out a great chuckle and stopped to walk. Around mile
ten, the unthinkable happened: Joe Greaves passed me. At that point –
and even now – I didn’t really care. I knew I could finish, even if I
had to walk the rest of the way. Around mile 12 I saw him again, and I
guess I didn’t look my strongest as he yelled at me, “You can’t quit
now!” Quitting was never an option. I used my legs to propel me
forward (running probably is not an apt term for the way I was moving)
to the finish line, where I sprinted the last 100 yards. You’ve got to
look good at the finish. It’s state law or something.

After the race, they hung a finishers medal on me, as well as a gave
me beer glass and I stumbled out of the finish area, to be greeted by
a gift from Tom Brinker – a bottle of Les Bougouis champagne! Joe and
I took our stuff to the car, where I broke out the T3 bag – a cooler
full of beer. I changed into dry clothes (my shoes squeeked the last
three miles of the run since I had dumped so much water on me to stay
cool) and felt much better. We then headed back to eat Famous Dave
sandwiches and chips. All I can say is that even though it was good,
it in NO WAY matched the 5,500 calories I had burned. So we tried to
make up for it in beer. The CMC tent was very close to the campground
showers, so I luxuriated in the water and soap to get the grime off.
Went back under the tent and took a nap. That was the trick.

Thank you to all the folks in CMC over the last year and a half
helping me along. Giving me pointers. Showing me how to swim and run
for the first time in 30 years. Showing me that I can achieve what was
once an insurmountable task.

Thank you to my wife and daughter, who have endured my various rants
and not being there while I’m training. I love them so much. I really
wouldn’t be here without their support.