Grand Canyon - South Kaibab descent at sunrise

I took some video of my Grand Canyon R2R2R run from Saturday, May 25th as we descended from the south rim to the river via the South Kaibab trail. I used a GoPro Hero3 camera with the chest mount harness. I hope you enjoy it.

Grand Canyon R2R2R - Memorial Day weekend 2013

As of this writing, the fastest known time for the Grand Canyon Rim to Rim to Rim (R2R2R) run is held by Rob Krar at 6 hours 21 minutes 47 seconds. What this means is that he started at one of the two Grand Canyon rim trail heads  ran across the canyon to the other rim trail head  then turned around and ran back. That’s exactly what I did this weekend… although not quite as quickly

The neat thing about Grand Canyon R2R2R is that it isn't a race. There is no race entry, no actual start or finish line, no race numbers, no clock, no medals, no aid stations. Yet, if you ask just about any experienced long distance runner if he or she has heard of R2R2R, you’ll likely get a nod. There is just something about the idea of standing at the edge of the Grand Canyon and looking over the side at the river a mile below you and the opposite wall 24-ish miles away across the clear desert air and thinking, “I wonder what it would take to run over there and then come back.”

This is what brought me to the Grand Canyon for the first time in my life. I wanted to take the challenge and see if I could go the distance. It’s a pretty big commitment, though. With very few extreme exceptions, once you step into the canyon, it’s on you to get back out. Because of this, the warnings are ubiquitous. Everywhere you go, you will see signs reminding you that every year, people die in the canyon because they thought they could get in and get out and they were wrong. Walking from the rim to the river and back is an 18-19 mile journey with a minimum of a mile of elevation gain at altitude.

But I did it. We did it.  I was part of a group and we all made it out and I’m still alive to write about it, so let me begin.

My running buddy Dave Shaw and I had been throwing around the idea of running Grand Canyon for a few years and it would come up in conversation and then fade away in the endless fog of race schedules and life plans. In 2012, my wife’s friend Paige wanted to put together a Grand Canyon R2R2R trip for Memorial Day weekend 2013. My wife told me about it because she knew it was something I always wanted to do and I was training for my third crack at the Rocky Raccoon 100 mile trail run in February of 2013. Now we had an event and a date. The event suddenly became very real. Our excitement was contagious and before long, Paige’s little outing had swelled to nine more people just on our side of things. In addition to Paige’s group, it was me, Alida, Stef, Mark, Belinda, Rosie, Chad, and later on Laura and Alessandro jumped in on the party. We fell into two groups. A larger group planned to hike down to the river and back and a few of us wanted to push through for the full 48 mile R2R2R journey.

I am stating the obvious when I say that Houston, Texas is flat. It’s also about 30 feet above sea level. Those two things do not relate well to training for the Grand Canyon. There isn't much I can do about altitude training, but we had an idea for hill training. Our friend Belinda works in the Williams Tower, which is the third tallest building in Houston at 66 floors and 902 feet tall. We hiked the stairs over and over. We did this several times each week for weeks leading up to the trip.

The Grand Canyon group (minus Chad, who was still driving in from Durango)

Soon enough, Memorial Day weekend approached and we flew out to Arizona on Friday. We rented a car in Phoenix and drove up to the park, where we had lodge reservations. Everything they say about the Grand Canyon is true. Pictures can’t describe it accurately, although that never stopped anyone from taking pictures. The scale of the canyon can only be experienced in person and even then it’s difficult because there is no frame of reference. We met for dinner and then went back to our rooms to make last minute preparations and get a good night of sleep.  The adventure was scheduled to begin around 5AM on Saturday morning.

The alarm went off, breakfast was eaten, water bottles were filled, packs were stuffed, and buses were ridden.  In the end, all nine of us assembled at the South Kaibab trail head for some photos as the sun came up and off we went.

We broke up into little groups pretty quickly. Stef and Mark wanted to stretch their legs, so the two of them went off ahead. I stuck with Chad and Rosie since we three were the ones running the full distance. Alida and Belinda settled into a comfortable pace with their trekking poles. Laura and Alessandro sort of did their own thing and drifted off ahead of us as well pretty early on. Within an hour or two, we had strung out along the trail and each group advanced at its own pace.

The south rim of the Grand Canyon is the place from which most people experience it. There are two major paths leading from the south rim to the river. There’s the South Kaibab trail, which is steeper and about seven miles long. There is also the Bright Angel trail, which is about nine miles long and slightly gentler and also has the advantage of three water stops along the way, of which Kaibab has none. The plan for everyone was to descend the south rim on Kaibab and ascend along Bright Angel. In hindsight, I still think this was the best option for all of us.

Look at this dork

I should take a moment and talk about my choice for clothing and equipment. I decided to go with a primarily white kit for maximum sun protection.  From head to toe, my clothing consisted of a running cap with wraparound side and rear flaps (think French Foreign Legion), my white Houston Dynamo cycling jersey, white Zoot arm sleeves, white Pearl Izumi long triathlon shorts, white 2XU calf compression sleeves, Thorlo running socks, and my relatively new Newton Terra Momentum shoes. I also had a bright orange lightweight wind/rainproof Brooks running jacket.

Gear-wise, I wore my sunglasses, Ultimate Direction PB running pack, and RoadID bracelet so they could identify my body. We opted for tight tri shorts over loose running shorts because on long runs, we have all experienced chafing, especially when the running shorts get wet and rub against our thighs.  We might have looked a bit odd out there in bicycle jerseys and triathlon shorts, but it was very effective, as the cycling jerseys had three massive pockets at the bottom of the back that are easy to access and gave me additional food and trash storage.

I also brought quite a bit of running tech on the trip. I always wear my Garmin Forerunner 910xt and heart rate monitor. Since I knew part of this run would be at night, I brought my Ayup headlamp and a spare battery. I purchased a Spot satellite tracker so that friends and family could track our progress as we moved through the canyon. I also brought my iPhone, intending to do a zombie run. Because these things have batteries that run down, I also brought a supplemental USB battery as well as the necessary cables for the GPS watch as well as the iPhone. Rosie purchased a GoPro camera with a harness and chest mount. I wore that as well and got several hours of video of the Grand Canyon.

The Ultimate Direction vest is pretty great and I think the PB model that Rosie and I wore was just right.  It has enough capacity to really stuff it, but it still sits lightly and the front-mounted water bottle holders make for easy access.  Rosie carried two of the 20oz water bottles up front and a 70 ounce water bladder in the back.  My load was similar, but I opted to swap out one of the front bottles in favor of a Katadyn pump water purifier.  I didn't know it at the time, but that decision saved the R2R2R trip for all three of us.

OK, back to the run. As our little group (myself, Chad, and Rosie) worked our way down the trail, a park ranger came upon us as he was ascending.  I’m a little bit proud of the fact that he never even asked us if we were planning to cross the canyon. He told us he had some bad news on the north side and I immediately feared the worst. There had been a water line break and two of the four stops along the North Kaibab trail had no working water taps. This meant no drinking water refills from the Phantom Ranch campground near the river to the Supai Tunnel stop less than 2 miles from the north rim—a distance of over 12 miles on the more rugged and difficult north side of the canyon. Fortunately, I had brought my water filtration pump and when I mentioned it to the ranger, he informed me that nearly the entire North Kaibab trail follows a creek with easy access to pump my own clean (and cold) water. He said it was safe for us to continue and asked us to spread the word to other hikers about the water outage. A round of high fives ensued and we continued down the trail in high spirits.

A bit further down the trail, we were greeted by Laura and Alessandro hiking up towards us.  This seemed strange.  Had they already hit the river and started their ascent?  How was that possible? It turns out they were coming up the trail looking for us because Stef had taken a tumble on the descent and badly hurt her ankle. It was just bad luck, as she tripped on nothing while running on a flat clear piece of trail. Mark was with her. By the time we got to her, her ankle had swollen up pretty badly and it was clear she couldn't continue.  Luckily, a passer-by had given her a cold compress, which helped. Chad had some duct tape that we used to somewhat stabilize her ankle as she made her ascent. We stayed with the group as the rest of our party trickled down to meet us. Finally, we had to part ways.  Stef and Mark would make the long slow ascent back to the rim and Alessandro and Laura would join them.  The rest of us continued onward.

The five of us down by the river.

By the time we reached the river, the sun was starting to get high in the sky and the difference in heat from the south rim was amazing. We took a break to eat and drink and fill out a survey from one of the park volunteers at the bottom of the canyon. I also wanted to wait on Belinda and Alida to make sure they were still doing well.  Getting to the river was half the distance for them, but only a third or even a quarter of the physical work. We hung around and rested for nearly an hour and a half, until they showed up. It was probably longer than we should have waited, but I felt a lot better knowing Alida was doing well and in good spirits. We all gathered to take a photo and then we went our separate ways.

With that decided, I topped off my water, soaked by arm sleeves in water, reapplied sunscreen, and we headed north along North Kaibab trail. Unlike the south side of the canyon, there is only one major trail from the river to the north rim. It is also about twice as long as the south run trails since the river isn't exactly in the middle of the canyon. Soon we came to the Phantom Ranch campground, which is more like a little city at the bottom of the canyon. There are lodges, mule stables, an even a cantina where you can stop and buy lunch and drinks. There were lots of people milling about as well. Most of them were campers. Some were about to leave. Some had just arrived. It was a hive of activity. As we moved on from it along the flat region of the hike, the number of people we saw dropped off dramatically. We would go 15, 20, 30 minutes or more at a time without seeing people. The sun was relentless and we were thankful for the small creek that flowed along the side of the trail to let us stay cool and wet as we went. Finally, when we had run out of water, I decided to break out the purification pump and see how well it worked.  It didn't take long to fill all of our bottles and water packs and get moving again. When we stopped, Chad and I would work the refills and Rosie would go find a shady spot to nap for 10 minutes or so. That girl can sleep anywhere.

It wasn't long until we found the break in the water line.  It was right in the middle of the hiking trail and caused a bit of a trick for those who wanted to get around it without getting wet. After some fancy footwork, we got by it and moved on toward the Cottonwood campground some seven miles away. The going was easy and aside from the heat, it was a pretty easy hike.  We walked some and jogged some. We looked forward to Cottonwood even though we knew there would be no running water there.  Each stop along the way is like a mental checkpoint where you reassess your distances and stop to sit for a moment and talk with people.

We're most of the way up to the north rim enjoying a much-needed break.

Things started to turn uphill a bit at Cottonwood and by the time we got to Roaring Springs, we were getting into the real ascent of the canyon. I spoke with another Park Ranger there about our plans and that we were already running behind schedule and would likely be hiking through the night. She told me there were some tricky spots with sheer drop-offs ahead and that we should make a real effort to reach the rim and back to Roaring Springs on the descent before dark if possible. That sounded like a good idea.

After Roaring Springs, the trail did indeed get much steeper as we started to work our way up the cliff wall. The views were incredible, and it was a bit off-putting to walk on a four foot wide strip of trail with a sheer wall of stone on one side and a drop of several hundred feet on the other.  No guard rail to be found.  It’s certainly a time to keep your wits about you as you hike. As the hike got steeper, our food situation started to become apparent too.  We had not planned on bringing food for such a long hike. I had eaten half of my food already and we were still hours away from the north rim. Rosie and Chad were in similar situations. I started rationing my food, which was a mistake. I ran low on energy towards the north rim on a particularly heavy ascent and I had to bum a couple of carbohydrate gels off of Rosie and eat them just to give me the sugar to get me going again.  We decided that when we reached the north rim, we would have to make the mile hike to the shop to buy some supplies.  I had money with me so I wasn't worried, although I had no idea what my vegan options would be.  As we got closer to the north rim, we started coming across other hikers with more frequency and by the time we reached the Supai Tunnel water stop, we knew we were less than two miles from the top.

Halfway done at the north rim.

The north rim of the Grand Canyon is about a thousand feet higher than the south rim.  It is around 8200’, which is a mile and a half above sea level.  The grade of the climb was very steep with lots of switchbacks. We were averaging upwards of 30 minutes per mile by this point. Still, our spirits were high and the other hikers seemed to enjoy us joking with them and making fun of ourselves. Rosie struck up a conversation with another hiker named Chen, who we had leapfrogged several times. He told us he had a room at the lodge on the north rim.  He was alone and his room had three beds. That was seriously tempting, but I felt like if we stopped for the night, it wouldn't be a true R2R2R trip and besides, we would wake up stiff and sore the next morning and still have to cross the canyon to get back.  We decided to push on through the night.

At the north rim, we were discussing our food options and making the hike to the store when one of our fellow hikers offered up the rest of his food to us.  He was done for the day and had all kinds of mixed nuts, bananas, trail mix, and granola and energy bars that he no longer needed nor had any use for.  We gladly accepted and a few other people who thought we were crazy for trying a double crossing gave us their leftovers as well. In fact, we gathered up enough food that we thought we could make the crossing on what we had. We told these hikers that it was good karma and it would come back to them.  As the sun started to get low in the sky, we were nearly the only hikers still at the north rim trail head.  There were a pair of carbon fiber trekking poles that were left there and I was sorely tempted to take them and use them as they would have made the trip much easier.  But they were also nice enough that someone would surely miss them and likely come back looking for them and it felt doubly wrong to take them after receiving so much generosity from strangers just prior. I did find a good walking stick and gave it to Rosie.  She ended up keeping it for the rest of our journey.

I was a bit scared of those big cliff drop-offs and I wanted to get as far forward as I could before dark so we picked ourselves up and started back into the canyon with the loose goal of finishing up before the sun rose. We made it to the Supai Tunnel right around the time it got dark enough to turn on our headlamps. It appeared we would hike the dangerous section in the dark.

My Ayup headlamp is powerful. It’s really powerful.  It’s the strongest headlamp I know of and that’s why I bought it. I discovered that the beam can be seen on the canyon wall hundreds of feet away.  I lit up a distant waterfall at night, which was a pretty neat sight to see. The reason I mention this is because when I shine this powerful headlamp over a ledge at night and I see nothing but black below me, I know it’s a long way down. If I hadn't been so exhausted by this point 14 hours into the run/hike, it probably would have bothered me a lot more than it did.

The descent went much better than the ascent.  We even managed to jog a little bit.  We had enough food to keep us going and, amazingly, we were still in really great spirits.  We talked, joked, told stories, talked about movies, anything to pass the time.  Every now and then, we would see approaching headlamps and exchange pleasantries with other hikers.  We passed several other groups who were also doing R2R2R and intentionally chose the night as the time to do it.  That had not occurred to us, but it made sense.  Night time at the rims was pretty cold—down in the low 40s.  But down near the river, it never got below the low 70s at night.  We had put on our jackets at the north rim, but it wasn't long until we had to take them off as we returned into the canyon.

There was also a full moon and no clouds.  The moon was so amazingly bright, it cast shadows on the canyon walls and the solitude of our journey, along with the strange animal sounds and otherworldly appearance of the moonlit canyon made it feel like we were not on Earth anymore. Few people get to experience the Grand Canyon by the light of a full moon.  If you ever get the opportunity, seize it! We hiked down past Supai Tunnel and on to Roaring Springs making great time.  We pumped some more water and then went on to Cottonwood where the trail flattened out.  We knew it was a long hike to Phantom Ranch and the Colorado River before we started our ascent up Bright Angel trail for the last 9 miles of the trip.

Because the moon was so bright, we came across a pair of hikers coming toward us with their headlamps turned off.  They were also hiking R2R2R and we stopped to talk with them for a while.  All of us turned off our lamps and just stood there in the dark chatting while we rested up and had some food and water. Nobody thought it was unusual in the least.  It was after midnight by the time we reached Phantom Ranch and the place was deserted. Lots of tents and the cabins were full, I’m sure, but nobody was wandering around.

The animal life at night was very interesting too.  We saw dozens of small white frogs hopping across our path.  Our headlamps (especially mine) would stir up flying insects and bats dive-bombed us, sometimes flying right at our faces before turning aside less than a foot away.  It was freaky, but we got used to it.  We saw a few scorpions, a big centipede, and a pair of mule deer that were bedded down for the night. They raised their heads to watch us as we went by, but never got up. We were in their territory and they were not afraid of us.

Eventually, we reached the Colorado and crossed onto Bright Angel trail to make the final nine mile push to the rim and our finish line.  By my rough estimate of 30 minutes per mile, I figured we would finish sometime around 7AM. We would get the chance to see a second sunrise inside the canyon.

By this point, our run had become a hike which had become a death march.  We would go a half hour or more without saying more than a few words. I had blisters on both heels, which is unusual for me.  I feared I had blisters on my toes (it turns out they were just sore) and the balls of my feet were bruised from hiking along the rocky trail. I was mostly in the lead, but sometimes I would follow behind Chad or Rosie.  We finally reached the Indian Garden campsite around daybreak.  We had about 4.5 miles to go, but I also knew by my elevation reading, that we were only 1/3 of the way up the canyon and had over 4000 feet to go. It was going to be a hard trek.

This was the only time when I felt a little discouraged.  The fact that we were taking so long made me wonder if this even counts as a R2R2R run since we walked nearly the whole thing.  Rosie plopped down next to me at one point and I asked her if she thought this was worth the trouble. In my mind, Alida would be upset with me because I told her to expect us around midnight and now the sun was about to come up and she didn't know where I was. We all felt broken and we would be spending at least half of our last day at the park sleeping. Did we mess up? It was kind of a moot question since we had to get out of the canyon one way or the other.

Looking around, Indian Garden looks like a really nice campsite.  If I ever come back to camp in the canyon, I think I will spend at least one night there.  The facility is clean, there is a lot of space, and the view is very pleasant.  The south side of the canyon is much more open and with larger vistas.  The north side has more interesting ravines, cliffs, rock strata, and waterfalls to keep you entertained.

As we pressed on for the final section of the climb, pre-dawn hikers began to trickle down the canyon and passed us.  Some people asked when we started and it was fun to answer “Yesterday morning” and see the looks of disbelief.  One camper told me I was a brave man to spend the night in the canyon without a heavy pack. I had no use for a tent or a sleeping bag. We were moving the whole time.

There were two stops left. They were aptly named “3 mile stop” and “1.5 mile stop” due to their distance from the south rim.  They both had shelters with benches and fresh water.  At the three mile stop, I struck up a conversation with a man who was leaving the canyon and he offered me two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.  It seemed like too much to offer a stranger, but there was no way I could refuse that.  I’m pretty sure those calories and that sugar gave me the strength for the final push.

As the sun came up, we felt more energized, but the step climb on top of 24+ hours of trekking took its toll and I’m sure we looked like death as we hiked up past fresh-faced families going down into the canyon for the day.  Still, we exchanged “Good Morning” with everyone we saw. We also missed no opportunity to tell anyone who asked what we were about to finish. Damn it, we earned some bragging rights.

We reached the south rim right around 8:00 in the morning.  I finally clicked off the Garmin with a total time of 26 hours 32 minutes and 15 seconds including all breaks.  I know a few people who have gone R2R2R and none of them have a time this slow.  I’m kind of proud of that in a perverse sort of way.  Once we had cell phone reception, Chad texted Sabrina, who had been following our progress over the Internet from Houston. Then he texted Alida so she could come meet us. We called a few people to let them know we were safe and finished. Then the three of us just sat there and looked at the Grand Canyon as the sun rose over it.  I’ll keep good memories of that moment.  There was nothing left to do but just hang out and wait for Alida and Belinda to arrive.

Do we look tired?

Rosie wanted breakfast.  All I wanted was a hot shower and a bed. Luckily, our hotel room was only five minutes’ walk from the Bright Angel trail head and it was easy to get back to the room. I had a small shred of gentlemanly politeness in me so we let Rosie shower first while we sat in a stupor on the floor of the hotel room.  We were far too filthy to get in bed like we were. Alida and Belinda talked with us and gave us food.  I have to say they were pretty well-prepared on the food side.  There was a lot of fresh fruit and even some meals to be had.  I took a shower and changed clothes.  Alida gave each of us a massage as we emerged from the bathrooms. I also had a beer in celebration. At some point, I blinked my eyes and when I opened them, it was 2PM.

Here's the final tally, according to my Garmin 910 GPS log.

A proper elevation profile for a trail run.

Getting out of bed was a painful experience that day, however even a short walk did wonders to loosen me up and dull the ache. I was thirsty, I was hungry, I was tired, and I was sore, but I was finished and I was successful. We were successful.

An artist's rendition of how I spent my weekend.

Did we seriously just run across that?

Rocky Raccoon 100 - Third time's the charm

How long does it take to run 100 miles? This race has a cutoff of 30 hours, but in my case, it took over two years. In 2011, inexperience and cold stopped me at 77 miles. In 2012, it was Rhabdomyolysis at 30. This year, it looked like weather wasn't going to be the cause of my downfall. I had two friends running the 100 with me and this just felt like this was the weekend we’d all go home with buckles in hand.

Race weekend started with me taking the day off work on Friday so I could drive up to Huntsville and pick up my race packet, along with dropping off my drop bag. I was racer #42. While up there, I ran into my old friend Brett Blankner and his wife and son. Brett is a 100 mile finisher and was running the 50-miler for the 4^th time this year. Alida and I stuck around to chat with him while his son ran the Kids’ Mile event. Then we drove home to get ready for Rosie to show up as well as my father. Rosie was going to ride up with us the next morning. After a hearty dinner and some last-minute packing and prep, the four of us turned in early for some sleep before what we all knew would be a very long weekend.

Me, Stef, and Rosie

3:20AM and the alarm went off. It was race day and we were still over an hour’s drive from the start line. Breakfast was made and eaten and Rosie and I piled into my dad’s car for the drive up to Huntsville.  Alida elected to stay and sleep in because she knew she would not get much sleep once the race started. The drive was uneventful and we got there with 20 or so minutes to spare. Rosie needed to drop off a box for Sabrina to take out to one of the aid stations for her. We met friends, snapped some photos, talked to our pacers, and soon enough the gun went off and nearly four hundred runners shuffled off into the dark woods.

The Rocky Raccoon 100 trail run is a five-loop course with four aid stations, one of which the runners pass twice per loop. Most aid stations are between 3 and 4.5 miles apart, but there’s one section with 6 miles between stations and that one requires a little bit of special planning. My friend Stef was feeling fast and she went off at a quicker pace. I started off running with Rosie and feeling out the intensity we wanted to run at. In the back of my mind was my 24 hour goal and I had a spreadsheet printout with times for each aid station along that pace.

Early in the race

As we progressed along the first loop, it became pretty clear that Rosie was having problems with her hip flexor muscle. She had been training a lot and I don’t think she had given herself proper time to recover and rest for this race. We took some walk breaks and she stretched, but toward the end of the loop, I needed to run ahead for a portacan emergency and afterwards, I didn't see her again. I finished the first loop under 4 hours and 15 minutes—a conservative pace that built up about 30 minutes of cushion on my 24 hour goal without expending undue energy that i would need later.

Alida was not there for the race start, but she had arrived in time to see me for the second loop. My dad was there too of course, as well as John, Jay, Belinda, Diane, Kristi, Chad, Sabrina, Mark and my pacers Dave and Laura. I know there were others and if I forgot to mention you, I’m so sorry, but my recall from the early hours isn't as clear. I grabbed a little bit of food and went right back out onto the trail for round two.

The second loop was a little harder than the first loop, but since I took it easy the first time around, it was far from punishing. The sun was up and the day was becoming pretty warm. Thankfully nearly all of the course is run in the shade, but we could still feel the heat as the temperature rose into the 70s. One of the bigger challenges was the mental aspect of knowing I’d be out for another 4+ hours on a course I already knew before getting back to my friends again. That was my mental checkpoint and one of the things I really looked forward to each time around. Throughout the morning and during the race, I was getting text messages and tweets from people wishing me well. I read each of them as they arrived and it made me happy. It was also nice to see so many familiar faces out on the course. Many of my friends were running the 50 or the 100 mile race and I never knew when I would cross paths with them. There really isn't a whole lot of detail I remember about my second loop and I ended up back at the turnaround about five minutes slower than the first time, expanding my overall time cushion to about an hour. Coming into the chute, I saw Andy Dufresne, who I only knew online. He was there waiting to pace his runner later that day.

Alida works on my legs as I eat some potatoes and get ready to go out

I went out again  for loop #3 and before even got out of the station, I saw another friend Gordon coming into the finish. Gordon is a sub-3 hour marathon runner who was racing the 50 this year after having to drop out from a tough day last year. I knew he was in the final steps of his race and he gave me a high five as we went by in opposite directions. The third loop (miles 40-60) was tougher and I was starting to feel the effort after 8+ hours on my feet. I knew this would be an important loop because the sun would be down by the time I finished and Laura would be waiting for me to pace me on the next loop. This was also the loop where I finally figured out my nutrition, salt, and water intake, although not without some trouble first. I had not been drinking nor taking salt pills on a schedule, but rather going by feel, which becomes less precise as the day went on and my exhaustion level climbed. This culminated in a much slower pace and a discussion with another runner as the third loop went on.

As the third loop wore down, I crossed paths with Jonathan French, who is a big Houston Dynamo supporter like me. I talk with him frequently about ultra running. He has had a tough year leading up to this race with a number of DNFs (Did Not Finish) for different reasons. He seemed to be running well and he was completing his last loop of the 50 mile course. We ran together for a while and talked about nutrition. It was after this discussion that I decided I would take salt pills at every single aid station regardless of whether it was day or night. Jonathan did finish well, by the way, and I’m extremely happy for him. It was around this time when I got the word that a friend of mine and former Houston Dynamo team captain Wade Barrett had won the 50 mile race outright with a time under 7 hours. I am very happy for him. He’s an incredibly strong runner and I guess this was just his year. Gordon, who I mentioned earlier, ended up finishing 4^th overall and he won his age group in the 50 mile race. That’s how you make a comeback!

Night had fallen when I made it in from the third loop and I was really starting to feel the fatigue of 60 miles on my legs. Alida gave me a quick leg massage before I went out for the fourth loop and Laura was a chatterbox, which was great for me since I was sick of thinking about the race. I knew I was in rough shape from the start of this loop and it would indeed turn out to be my hardest loop of the day. 12 hours of not executing a proper nutrition game plan was catching up with me and my new practice of taking salt and water constantly had not had enough time to straighten my body out yet. As the loop went on, I felt like I was doing more walking than running. I hit the wall hard around mile 68 and got so dizzy I had to sit down for a moment while I consumed a carbohydrate gel pack. I don't care for the syrupy sweet gels, but I have to admit they do absorb quickly into my blood stream. After a few minutes, my head cleared and I felt good enough to walk to the next aid station, but even then I had to sit for a good 20 minutes while warming up and nibbling on spoonfuls of salty mashed potatoes. My stomach finally settled down, but my legs never quite caught back up and it ended up being a tough and slow lap for me despite Laura’s best efforts to keep me moving. That was when it became clear that a sub-24 hour race was not in the cards for me. I finished that loop in 6:32—two hours longer than any of my previous three loops. I had a feeling it was going to be a very long night.

With that decided, I was free to take it easy and enjoy the last part of the race because the race cutoff wasn't until noon on Sunday. We got back to the turnaround and I thanked Laura for her help and drank a can of coconut water while Alida worked on my quads some more. My legs felt absolutely shredded, but at least I had sorted out my calories and salt. Dave suited up and off we went for loop number 5—miles 80-100. I was resigned to basically walk the whole 20 miles, but Dave wanted to give running a try just to see where I was at physically and mentally. We went off at a light jog and it hurt a lot—remember, it was after 2AM by this point--but as my muscles warmed up, I found that I was able to trot along at a respectable pace. I knew I wasn't going to make up the time to get back under 24 hours overall, but the sooner I got the race over with, the sooner I could get off my feet so I decided to push my luck.

Dave kept me entertained with stories about podcasts he had listened to and we talked about training and running and whatever else popped into his mind.  My mind didn't have a whole lot left in it at this point. One aid station went by and then another and then we were on the tough and lonely 6 mile stretch in the back of the park. I was feeling a bit weak and needed some calories so I took one of his Clif bars. Pacers are not allowed to carry supplies for the runners so we decided it would be better if I gave him a couple of my gels in trade. That way he wasn't really carrying anything for me. He just traded me some items J It was perfectly ridiculous and I’m sure Joe the race director would have had a good laugh, but somehow it made perfect sense out on the trail. With each aid station, I’d have another cup of hot salted mashed potatoes and maybe a cup of soup here or there and within a minute we were back on the road walking then running again. My energy picked up and I started to feel really positive again.

Around mile 90 or so, Dave brought up a subject that had not occurred to me. He asked how my feet felt. When I thought about it, I realized that they were doing fine. In fact, they were doing better than fine. I hadn't thought about my feet all day.  There were no hot spots, no blisters, no rubbing. Nothing. I never changed my socks or shoes because I never needed to. As we left the final aid station, I noticed the black sky was turning a shade of blue and I decided to see if I could finish the race before the sun came up. I picked up my pace and knocked out the last couple of miles with Dave. As I entered the finishing chute, all of my fatigue left me and I ran through to a small but enthusiastic crowd at the finish line and with a beep of the timing mat, the last 25 hours was over. I looked at race director Joe Prusaitis and informed him that I was promised hallucinations and that I wanted my money back. He just laughed at me and handed me the finisher’s belt buckle, which is a unique symbol of the ultramarathon community. I was a 100 mile finisher. My time bounced back strongly from the fourth loop and the fifth and final loop took me 5:12. My overall finishing time was 25 hours, 5 minutes, and 58 seconds.

I ran 100 miles and all I got was this lousy belt buckle!

 After about ten minutes of congratulations, hugs, and stripping off various pieces of clothing and equipment (which takes a lot longer than you might think when you cannot move very well) I asked how Stef did. She finished under 24 hours despite trailing off a little at the end. I had crossed paths with Rosie once or twice since we parted ways. I knew she had our friend Ron pacing her for the 4^th loop and then Sabrina would pace her 5th, but I didn't know how badly her injury might have been slowing her down. After hanging around for a few hours at the finish line, we gathered up all of our supplies and parted ways with our entourage. I suggested we drive down to the final aid station before the finish line to wait for Rosie and Sabrina to arrive. We had some time to kill and chatted with Paige and the others who were running the Park Road aid station. We watched people go by looking tired and beat down, but determined to finish off their races. It was inspiring. Finally, they came by and Rosie looked rough, but they both seemed in good spirits and I knew they had enough time to finish ahead of the noon cutoff.

Here I am with my wonderful pacers moments after completing the race.

Rosie did indeed finish with 30 minutes to spare. She took her belt buckle and tumbled into the back of our SUV where we had made a makeshift bed for the trip home while Alida drove us. I was too excited to get much sleep and checked Twitter and the Something Awful forums, where several people had been following my progress on the running thread. It was wonderful to see so many people throwing their well wishes and support at me and I was glad I could answer it by completing my task.

Epilogue

In hindsight, the way my race played out was a little unusual. Most people have loops that get progressively slower as the race wears on.  In my case, I made a substantial change to my race planning that had a measurable positive effect on the later stages of my race. I’m referring to my salt and calorie intake after the conversation with Jonathan on loop 3. The salted mashed potatoes were a big boost too. They were hot and tasty and the high glycemic index of the potatoes meant that they digested quickly and gave me calories I could use right away. I believe that if I were to go into another race with similar weather conditions and a similar level of training, I could definitely break 24 hours with that nutrition strategy. I simply had not been taking in enough electrolytes.

My diet: I have been on a 100% plant-based diet since the end of 2012. I don’t feel like this hampered me in any way. In fact, I feel like the food I was eating was providing me with everything I needed and the only thing I left out was the junk. It’s worth noting that aside from mashed potatoes, the aid stations had vegan soup and/or veggie burgers and perhaps other things specifically intended to appeal to runners with those diet concerns. This tells me there are more than just a few of us out there. My normal “walking around” weight is about 190 pounds. This is healthy and this is not overweight, but I still dropped about 10 pounds without trying on my current diet. I felt leaner and quicker as a result. In terms of specific race nutrition, I packed my drop bags with seaweed-wrapped rice balls with soy sauce packets, Greek lemon roasted potatoes, coconut-covered date balls, and peanut butter pretzels.  All of these were pretty much right on target for what I needed and my tastes changed throughout the day depending what my body wanted. I went into one aid station wanting nothing more than to gorge myself on orange slices, which I don’t typically eat a lot of at races.

I need to give some appreciation to some people whose conversations have led me in the direction I’m in with regard to race food and general fitness diet. Penny Wilson is a friend and a nutritionist who I have worked with for a couple of years. She and I are both advocates of bringing real food to races instead of gels and powders. It’s just what works best for me. Christine Lynch, the holistic guru, and I regularly talk about diet in general and eating healthy. Rich Roll, the vegan ultraman is a constant inspiration and an example of what someone can do on a plant-based diet.

My crew: I already mentioned my crew and pacers, but I feel it’s important to spend a little time talking about just how much of an effect a good crew infrastructure can have on a successful endurance race. In the middle of the night, my pacer and I ran by some people who were out there struggling alone in the dark. Maybe that’s how they wanted it so I won’t feel bad for them, but I know that’s not what I wanted for myself.  The first three laps went by much faster knowing that there was a pacer waiting for me on loop 4 and then again on loop 5. Every time I came back into the turnaround aid station, I had people there cheering for me and rushing to get me anything I needed. It made the whole experience much more enjoyable and let me focus on getting my gear and myself prepared to go out again for the next loop. It’s tough leaving all that behind and knowing it will be 4 or 5+ hours before I see them again.

My gear: I’d like to think I've distilled my race prep down a little bit even though I over-packed once again. My shoe of choice is the Newton Terra Momentum and this pair has over 700 miles on them prior to the race start. Some would say that is foolish, but they are very comfortable. I have a pair of UnderArmour ankle length running socks and they apparently agreed with me too because I never changed my socks or my shoes throughout the race and I never had any problems. I wore 2XU calf compression sleeves and they felt good on my legs as well. Actually, now that I think about it, I did very little clothing modification throughout the race. I wore tight triathlon shorts instead of traditional loose running shorts because running shorts can get sweaty and rub on my legs. My UnderArmour boxer briefs are my go-to base layer for underwear and they have never given me problems and I knew they wouldn't on race day. I wore my Houston Marathon finisher’s shirt for most of the race. It’s also made by UnderArmour and the material is extremely soft and never chafes me. It almost feels like silk. I wore my Zoot arm sleeves because it gives me sun protection and it’s easy to regulate between warmth and cool by adding a little water. I never got them wet them during the race though. I topped it off with a race cap and my Tifosi transition shades and I cannot forget the incredible Ayup headlamp—a birthday present from my wife.  This thing lights up the night! I wear a Nathan HPL020 hydration vest. I like how it sits on my back when I run and it has enough pockets of just the right size to carry what I need. When the night rolled around, it cooled off and I swapped my shirt with the Rocky Raccoon race shirt. It was a thicker long sleeve material and it suited the temperature. I swapped the race cap for a beanie pulled down over my ears and I threw on a pair of windproof cycling gloves. I never got more than a little bit cold out there. I like to use Skin Sake, which is a preventative ointment of sorts. I put it on sensitive areas before the race and it protects my skin against chafing and offers sunscreen protection as well. In hindsight, I don’t think I would make any changes to my clothing or gear for this race.

Last but not least, here's the tale of the Garmin: Rocky Raccoon 100 Mile Trail Run

Because I'm a geek and a fan of the Zombies, Run! iPhone app, I decided to make this race a zombie run as well. I think it was a bit excessive, but it got some laughs when I tweeted my result. I wonder how many people thought I just faked it.

I have no memory of this photo. I can see it was night time, but aside from that, who knows?

Hanging out post-race at Park Road aid station Lebowski-style

Quadzilla, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Ice Bath

I am not a member of Marathon Maniacs, but over the course of this weekend, I have spent quite a few hours with several members during the accomplishment of what they refer to as Quadzilla—four marathons in four days. This is as much of a logistical accomplishment as it is a physical one. Had this happened on nearly any other weekend of the year, I would not have been able to participate, nor had it happened anywhere but in my own town of Houston, TX.

So why should you care that I just ran four marathons in four days? You might find the details interesting as I have through the course of the experience. First, a little perspective.  As some of you know, I’m a triathlete and ultra distance runner. I have run somewhere between a dozen and 20 marathons, although I haven’t taken count in a while. I’m typically a sub-4 marathon finisher and my PR is 3:43, which usually puts me right around the top third of finishers in the big races I run. It’s nothing extraordinary and I’m on the fast side of average. I’m also training for a 100 mile trail run.

On Friday, I ran the End of the World Marathon. On Saturday, I ran the After the End of the World Marathon. On Sunday, I ran the Apocalypse Survivor Marathon (see a theme here?) and this morning, I ran the Tired Santa Fatass Marathon. Here are my Garmin numbers:

Friday

Saturday

Sunday

Monday

As you can see, I went into each of them shooting for a 5-6 hour finish which is considerably slower than my typical marathons. I played it cautious and I think it was the right choice. There were a number of things that went about like I expected and a number of things which I was not prepared for. Much as you would expect, fatigue accumulated throughout the weekend and I became more and more tired with each progressive race. The mental fatigue was harder than the physical fatigue and part of this was due to the multiple loops especially on the 3^rd and 4^th days. The string of races took its toll on my immune system as well and by the 3^rd day I was coming down with a head cold and by today it was full-on, which made running a marathon just that much less pleasant.

What I found surprising was that the soreness in my legs seemed to peak after the 2nd race and stayed fairly consistent throughout day 3 and 4, although my calf did seize up a bit toward the end of the 4^th race. I would run a race and then come home and soak in an ice bath for as long as I could stand it and then try to just rest up for the next race. I also gained weight from eating and drinking during and between races. Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised by that, but considering I probably burned in the neighborhood of 10,000 calories as well as the 2000 or so I normally burn in a day, I really didn’t think I ate all that much.

So, all of this being said, why did I subject myself to this?

For one thing, it sounds pretty awesome! I ran four marathons in four days and it was quite challenging. It’s also something that I have been curious about and until now I had not easily had the opportunity to do so. I got to meet some really neat people who probably have mental conditions (meant in the kindest way, of course). I cannot otherwise explain why someone would feel compelled to run 100+ marathons in a year and meticulously document all of them. Of the group this weekend, there were at least five people who can claim that. Should I wish to join Marathon Maniacs, I can now jump straight to level 6, having finished Quadzilla.  The real reason I did it, though, was because I’m running a 100 mile trail race in February and running a marathon on tired legs is a fair simulation of how my legs may feel and behave 70, 80, 90 miles into the race.

In the process, I put up some pretty neat running numbers. If you take the week from last Tuesday through today, I ran over 123 miles and put in just shy of 24 hours on my feet. I ran Friday and Saturday with my friend Stef who is also doing the 100 with me. She also ran some more on the side and logged over 80 miles this weekend. I ran Sunday and Monday with my friend Rosie who ended up with 94 miles on the weekend. All three of us are preparing for Rocky Raccoon 100.

Some of the other guys there finished up today and drove off to San Antonio where there is a “12 Days of Christmas” series of marathons and they can keep their consecutive streaks alive all the way to 17 races in 17 days or perhaps even more. No thanks! Right now, my focus is on recovery, getting over this head cold, and paying off some of the time debt I have accumulated from my wife this weekend.

I got to spend some quality time with good friends. I got to meet interesting new people. I got to get some quality swag along the way, and I picked up some ridiculous oversized medals. All in all, a quality weekend.

2012 Ironman Austin 70.3: The end of the road

What a weekend! Where should I start? I guess this story really starts early in the year when I decided 2012 would be the year I did the Ironman sweep of Texas, meaning I planned to race every Ironman race in the state of Texas—three Ironman 70.3 races and the big daddy, Ironman Texas itself. I’m pretty sure it sounded like a really good idea at the time.

Back in April, when I was in the height of my Ironman Texas training, it occurred to me that I was getting some pretty heavy burnout. I distinctly recall thinking to myself that I wanted to hang up the goggles and bike shorts and just go get lost in the woods alone at night. Nonetheless, I toughed it out and raced Ironman Texas and did well.  Then about a month later, my wife and I headed up to Lubbock for Buffalo Springs 70.3 and admittedly, I coasted pretty hard on my Ironman fitness, but I still managed to do well enough.

…and that was it. No more biking and no more swimming after June 24^th. Admittedly, I picked up my running in earnest.  I put down some quality miles throughout the summer and enjoyed nearly every minute of it, but when it came time to hit the pool or dust off the bike, I just couldn't be bothered. Taking July off because taking August off, then taking September off and then all of a sudden it was October and the race was at the end of the month. I’m sure fear would push me back onto the bike for at least some remedial miles and I know it doesn't take more than a week to get back into 2000 meter swim fitness.  But it just never happened.

So the weekend of Austin Ironman 70.3 rolled around and it was time to quit talking and do this race. It would be my 7^th Ironman 70.3 race and my 3^rd time racing this course. I was curious to see where I would land—I assumed somewhere between the 7:25:43 from 2008 when this race was my first-ever half Iron race, and the following year when I raced 5:52:48, breaking six hours for the first time ever.

We drove into Austin and picked up my race packet, which was pretty uneventful aside from me being in line right behind two-time Ironman world champion Chris McCormack. After that, we drove down to the bike drop-off, but took some wrong turns and ended up driving the long way around the lake before getting to where we meant to go. That ended up being fun too because unbeknownst to us, a truck followed us the whole way.  When we finally got to the lake and parked, the truck parked next to us and the guy got out and made a joke. Introductions were made and Alida and I met Chris and Mindy from Houston. This would be Chris’ first triathlon and jumping straight into a 70.3 is a pretty ballsy move.

Alida chatted with Mindy by the cars while Chris and I checked in our bikes. We ended up inviting them to join us for pre-race dinner that evening with some other friends. Then we checked into the hotel. Apparently when booking online, I had never specified a non-smoking room, so the hotel was sold out and we got a smoking room.  Great. That actually didn't end up being too much of a problem.  What was a problem was being kept up all night by a massive college party in every room around us with people blaring Tejano music starting at about 2AM (when I assume they finally got kicked out of the clubs) and running until about 4.

Finally Alida and I had enough and we packed up our gear and checked out and rolled to the race side by about 4:30. Transition didn't even open until 5 so we hung out in the car for a while. It was quite cold that morning, bottoming out at 44 degrees. I had never done a triathlon in weather this cold before and I really didn't know what to expect.  Actually, I did know what to expect. I was going to suffer J

Eventually, folks showed up, we got everything ready, and hung around by the water’s edge to see the pros go off and wait for our respective wave starts. My group was called, I kissed Alida goodbye and entered the water, which, thankfully was 71 degrees and I was wearing a wetsuit.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1, GO! I know my swimming is way out of practice, but I have also been through enough of these to keep my cool and pace myself properly.  I hoped that my first-timer friend Chris was keeping his cool because a mass start is a terrifying experience the first time you do it. I swam a few hundred meters, then took a breaststroke or two and caught my bearings.  I was in no hurry whatsoever and I knew it would be a long day. I wanted to come out of the water in the 45-50 minute range.  That is slow for me, but not excessively slow. The swim went well and I emerged in pretty good shape in just over 42 minutes.

The wetsuit came off and I was down to just my little Speedo and quickly started freezing my tail off.  I opted not to wear a shirt under my wetsuit so that I would have a dry shirt to put on in transition for the bike. I believe this was an extremely wise decision in retrospect. I put on a pair of cycling shorts over the Speedo and put on my arm sleeves and a little cap to keep my head from burning through the slits in the helmet and off I went.

It occurred to me pretty quickly that I had not thought this through properly, as it was a cloudless sunny day and I had on no sunscreen whatsoever.  About ten miles into the ride I hit the first aid station and discovered they had sunscreen.  I pulled over to happily exchange three minutes of lost bike time for a good coating of sunscreen on my shoulders and face.

The ride wasn't too bad and I was happy to remember much of the course.  Lots of rolling hills.  Not a lot of wind to speak of. What I had forgotten about were the roads. Some of the road surfaces were pretty horrible. I ate every half hour and stayed on top of my water and Gatorade. Actually, I think my nutrition and hydration were pretty spot-on for the whole day. Just like I expected, my performance improved as my legs warmed up. I kept my gears low and my cadence high and tried not to overdo it, but of course I failed and pushed way too hard because no matter what happens before the race, when the gun goes off, it irritates me every time someone passes me and I want to chase them down.

At around mile 45, something happened.  I don’t know if it was the wind or the roads or the hills or what, but I felt strong. I was pushing and holding over 20 mph for stretches at a time. I caught my friend Mare as we rolled into the final mile leading back to transition.  As I passed her I asked how she was doing and if she wanted to run with me. Running in with her sounded like a good idea. She is a little slower and I had a feeling I was really going to pay the price for hitting the bike harder than I should have. Final bike time: just under Three hours and 23 minutes. My goal going in was to come in under four hours. I had one of my stronger rides despite not training for it. I think it was the weather.

I rolled into T2 and did another full clothing change. This was where I decided to have fun. The bike shorts came off and so did the tri top. I put on a short tank top and my Netwon running shoes and off I went in my blue unicorn rainbow Speedo. I had no idea how this would go over, but I really didn't care. On my way out of transition, I called for sunscreen and about five ladies assaulted me all at once, which is every bit as fun as it sounds like.

I ran out onto the run course feeling surprisingly strong.  As I ran by Alida, she led a chorus of wolf whistles and supportive comments to my unconventional running garb. It was a lot of fun.  I covered the first mile feeling pretty good in about seven and a half minutes, which is entirely unsustainable and my quads reminded me of this as they started to cramp up.  I tried to slow down my pace even more and go easy, but by the third mile, my legs were cramping so hard I had to talk a walk break.  I rubbed them as I walked and focused on breathing and eventually I got my legs under control again and was able to run at a much more reasonable pace. So began my afternoon of running. I would run for a while, feel strong, walk the aid stations, and then have to walk briefly every 45 minutes or so to get the cramps down.  No doubt this was because I went too hard on the bike. Leg cramps like this were a new experience for me so I tried to treat it as a learning experience.

The run course is three loops of a little over four miles and by the time I started my second loop, I realized that there was a chance I could finish the half marathon under two hours. I think of a two hour half marathon at the end of a half Ironman race as a good indicator of a strong race because it also means I didn’t wear myself too thin on the swim and the bike ride.  I had only ever gone sub-2 on the run twice before so it was an accomplishment worth pondering. Lots of people made comments on my shorts—most of them positive. I stayed on top of my hydration and tried to take some electrolyte drink (read: Gatorade) to help my cramping quads, but I knew they weren't cramping from a lack of potassium.  They were just overworked.

I made good time on the run and stayed strong as I watched my clock click closer to two hours.  In the end, I worked it out and came across the finish line in 1:58 with a smile and a sense of satisfaction.  My total time was 6:19:47 and I had completed the Texas sweep.

Galveston 70.3, Ironman Texas, Buffalo Springs Lake 70.3, Austin 70.3

I think this will draw to a close my relationship with World triathlon Corporation and the Ironman brand--at least for a while. I still feel like all I really want to do right now is run and I have all kinds of running adventures planned for 2013 and beyond. Never say never, but for now, the bike goes into the garage.

Now I have to rehab these legs quickly because I have a 50k trail run this coming Saturday and I don’t intend to miss it!

Ironman Texas 2012: Once More Unto the Breach

I remember a few things about the Ironman Texas 2011 triathlon.  One of my most vivid memories was during the marathon as the sun was getting low in the sky I distinctly remember thinking to myself, “This is not fun.  How did I ever think this was fun?” and then shortly afterwards, I finished the race and Mike Reilly told me I was an Ironman and I got all caught up in the excitement and three days later I had registered for the 2012 Ironman Texas.

Well that was a year ago.  In the meantime, a lot had changed.  Some things changed for the better, like my overall fitness and my education when it comes to endurance nutrition.  Some things changed for the worse, like my general enthusiasm for swimming.  I’ve never enjoyed swimming workouts and it still holds true.  I just get bored out of my mind swimming lap after lap in the pool.  So, after finishing my winter running calendar with an incredible Tahiti marathon in February, I threw myself half-heartedly (well, more than half-heartedly, maybe ¾-heartedly) into training for Ironman Texas 70.3 in Galveston at the beginning of April.

You see, I had gotten this idea in my head that I wanted to do the “Texas Sweep” as I called it.  Ironman puts on four M-Dot branded races in Texas every year.  Three of them are half Ironman races and then the big one, Ironman Texas in May.  The race in Galveston in April went very well and I raced it with my new low-stress attitude towards racing.  I told myself I was going to take the same approach for the big one, but I think really I was making some early excuses for some low-intensity training.  It wouldn’t have been so bad except that so many of my friends were knocking out phenomenal training weeks and I just didn’t have the dedication to match their workouts.

Of course, the day came, as it always eventually does and none of what I did before mattered because it was time to race.  Even before the race started, I knew a few things would be different this year.

·        It was going to be hotter - Bad

·        It was going to be sunnier – Bad

·        I had been slacking a bit on my training - Bad

·        My base fitness was better – Good

·        I had the benefit of knowing what I was getting into - Good

·        I felt like I had finally figured out my nutrition – Very Good

So just like before, we all crowded into the water in Lake Woodlands watching the big timer clock tick towards 7AM and when it got there a cannon went off and the PA system cranked out “Jump” by Van Halen and the muddy brown water of the lake turned white as 2500 arms and legs churned the surface and off we went on our 2.4 mile aquatic journey which made up the first leg of the race.  As expected, the mass swim start was crazy.  It was hard to find a piece of water to take a decent stroke without having someone crawl up your back or without you going up over someone else.  I kept myself calm and told myself that I just needed to keep breathing and protect my face and eventually things would thin out.  And of course they did.

None of my training swims had been over 2000 meters and the Ironman swim is just shy of 4000 meters.  I had a hunch it really wouldn’t matter though, because once I got into my swimming rhythm, I felt like I could just go forever.  My goggles eventually fogged and I did the same trick I did last year.  I pulled them up, rubbed my thumbs on the inside of the goggles, and then flushed them out.  I don’t know if my thumbs were greasy or the water was just that filthy or what, but sure enough, they stayed clear for the rest of the swim.  We swam from North Shore Park down to South Shore Park and then turned around to come back.  Just before we returned to the beginning, we took a right turn into one of the canals and swam through part of the river walk as fans lined the sides of the canal cheering for us.  I swam right by our apartment and I knew Alida would be up on the balcony, so as I got close, I shouted out to her and sure enough, she heard me and saw me and gave me a wave.  I yelled out, “See you in six and a half hours!” and finished up my swim.  I got out of the water in 91 minutes, which was within a minute or two of last year’s swim time.  Hey, at least it’s consistent.

Just like last year, I took my time in transition.  I put on my cycling gear and slipped on a pair of cycling shorts over my tri shorts, which has always proven to be a good thing.  I strapped on my hydration fanny pack, got on my bike, and off I went for the 112 mile ride.  T1 was about 10 minutes and that was just fine with me.

Like I said earlier, my plan was about 6:30:00 on the bike.  I knew this year would be hotter and without the benefit of cloud cover, which we had last year.  I had my water all set and I had my secret weapon this time—the coconut date balls.  My nutritionist, Penny Wilson, had devised these last year as a “food on the go” solution for long-distance endurance running and they worked so well, I decided to work them into my cycling routine as well.  My watch beeped every five miles and that told me it was time to pop another one of them and chase it down with water.  Not only are they high in carbs, but high in salt as well.  If I could keep my salt up, I thought I could keep my energy up.  I was right!

The bike course was absolutely predictable.  I had ridden it last year in the race and I had done much of my training on the race course—an advantage of a local Ironman race.  The upside was that I knew every bump, curve, and hill on the course.  I knew where the roads were bad and I knew where I would get a headwind.  Unfortunately, it also meant I got to spend all of the fun parts thinking about just how long it would be until the next lousy part.  The sun baked my shoulders despite applying generous amounts of sunblock.  The hills were heavy and my butt ached from hours in the saddle.  Then my legs ached from hours of turning the gears.  Then everything ached.  I kept watching my GPS to see how far I had gone since the last time I looked at it.  70, 80, 90, 100 miles and finally I was back in The Woodlands.  Just 12 miles to go, but what a long 12 miles.  By the time I got back to transition, I truly wondered how I was going to have the strength to get off my bike, let alone run a marathon.  Total time on the bike: 6:33:52 — about 8 minutes slower than last year.

Despite my concerns, I got off my bike just fine.  I hobbled back into the changing tent and my buddy Rik was there volunteering, as was my father.  They talked to me as I stripped off my helmet and cycling shoes then put on my socks and running shoes.  Another round of sunblock and off I went onto the run course.  T2 time was again about 10 minutes.

Heading out on the run course, I waited for the nearly instant feedback from my body telling me I simply would not be able to run.  This is what happened last year.  This year it was a little different.  I think it was the nutrition, but I was actually able to run a bit.  Of course, I still needed a lot of walk breaks, but it wasn’t like before where the marathon seemed hopeless.  I was in high spirits and joked with strangers and high-fived friends when I saw them.  It took me a good 7 or 8 miles, but eventually, I actually found my legs and I was able to carry on a sub-11:00 pace and sometimes even sub-10:00 pace for a few miles at a time, before having to take a few minutes of walking to recover.  I stayed on top of my hydration and even choked down some of the awful-tasting mango Ironman Perform (relabeled Gatorade essentially)

I started my marathon at about 2:30PM and it was absolutely cooking out there.  I remember that as the afternoon went on, the trees along the side of the course cast longer shadows and that was where I ran.  It wasn’t so bad in the shade.  One aid station had fresh0cut watermelon and in addition to tasting wonderful, it gave my mind something to think about as I dug out the seeds and spit them out.  The run is a three loop course of about nine miles per loop.  By the time I finished my first loop and started on the second, I felt like I had a pretty good rhythm going.  Every time I would run by friends, I would give a big thumbs up and smile and tell them how great I felt.  It was only kind of a lie because I really didn’t feel too bad—just tired.

The second loop went the same way and some of the aid stations started cooking up big pots of chicken broth.  When I’m tired and dehydrated, a nice hot cup of chicken broth is like a magic potion for me.  Never mind the fact that temperatures outside were still in the high 80s.  The hot salty broth was just what I needed and it kept be going from aid station to aid station begging for another cup of broth.  By the time I was on my third loop, I felt better than I did on the first two.

Several times, the course makes an out-and-back path so you will be running one way and cross paths with people who are a decent ways ahead of or behind you.  On the last loop, I crossed paths with Sylvia.  Sylvia almost didn’t race this race.  She had gotten injured recently and her training had not been up to her standard.  She was extremely discouraged and many of us pushed her hard to start the race.  We told her that even if she dropped out, she should start the race and see how far she could go.  She was hurting, but when I saw her on the run course, I knew she was going to finish.  I stopped and gave her a big hug and we went our separate ways.

When you are out on a race for hours and hours, you have a lot of time to do math in your head.  With about five miles to go, I realized that I could make a run at finishing under fourteen hours.  My only stated time goal before the race was that I kind of sort of wanted to finish in 13:xx.  I also knew it would mean no more walking.  I needed to start running and keep running so I did just that.  My Garmin started ticking off mile splits as I went.  11:25 one mile while walking the aid station.  9:45 the next mile where there was no aid station.  I ran past Alida and the group around mile 22 or 23 and told them I was trying to finish before 9PM and for her to please call my dad.  It was probably 8:15PM when I said this.  They were a ways from the finish line and I wanted to give them time to get there ahead of me.  I started seeing people on the side of the course wearing their finisher medals and that motivated me even more.  I wanted my medal!

The last two or three miles went by really smoothly.  I really only remembered walking the last aid station for long enough to drink a hot cup of chicken broth and then it was back to the grind.  As I entered the finisher chute, I high-fived people all around me.  I even found my dad in the crowd and ran over to greet him as I went by.  I tried to time my finish so that nobody was very close in front of me or behind me.  I wanted Mike Reilly, the voice of Ironman, to give me the full Ironman shout-out.  Well it turns out he did just that and it was great!

I crossed the finish line a little before 8:45PM with a finishing time of 13:42:42.  My good friend Chad, who was volunteering, was waiting at the line for me to cross with a big smile on his face.  He had one more surprise for me.  He led me over to get my finisher medal and the person who put it around my neck was none other than four-time Ironman world champion and world record holder Chrissie Wellington, who did not race but was in town for this race as an ambassador for the sport.  Go ahead and Google her and almost any picture you will find of her will show her with a huge smile on her face.  She is unfailingly positive and energetic.  She congratulated me and gave me my medal and just like that it was all over.  Several of my friends were volunteering in the finisher’s chute and Alida was right there outside the fence.  I was tired and ready to stop running, but I didn’t feel broken.  There was no nausea, no cramping, no shakes or shivers.  It was a warm evening and once my body had calmed itself down, there was nothing I wanted so badly as a chair and some food.  Thankfully, I promptly found both.  My friend Ron finished only a couple minutes ahead of me and another friend Curtis, who came down from New York, finished just a couple of minutes behind me.  It was great.  It felt like a reunion right there in the finisher’s chute.

Eventually, I rested up enough to make the half mile walk to transition to pick up my bike and my gear bags.  Then another short walk put us back in the apartment.  I had a shower and downed probably four more bowls of the salmon quinoa salad Alida had prepared for the weekend.  I really wanted to go back down to the finish line for the midnight finish.  Every Ironman race ends at midnight, which is 17 hours after it starts.  This is the way it works all over the world.  Everyone in the race knows it and if you finish one second after midnight, you are not an ironman.  It’s just the rules.  This, of course, makes for some really emotional finishes as the clock ticks closer to midnight.

Jay at the finish line with his coach Dave Shaw

I’m glad I went.  Several of my friends finished in the last fifteen minutes of the race.  Michael Simpson, who was the next-to-last finisher last year with less than five minutes to spare, managed to slightly better his time this year, finishing with a gracious bow to the crowd.  Jay Farr, 74 years old, was the oldest competitor in the race.  Jay was also the oldest finisher of the race, trotting in with several minutes to spare.  Jay won his age group and secured a coveted Kona slot, meaning he got a guaranteed entry into the Ironman World Championship in Hawaii in October.  I never saw Sylvia cross the finish line.  I found out later that she had in fact finished several minutes before I arrived.  I was so happy for her.  It was not her first Ironman race, but she took on a big challenge this time and made good on it.

I also learned that I just don’t really enjoy the full Iron distance events all that much.  I don’t have the focus to train rigorously for a high performance finish and as a result, I suffer out there on the course.  Never say never, but I don’t see another Ironman race on my radar.  The 70.3 (half Ironman distance) races are a lot of fun and I will continue racing them, but I just may be done with 140.6 mile races.  All in all, it was a good day and a day to remember.  I beat my previous year’s time by nearly an hour on a much tougher day when nearly all of my friends finished slower than the year before.