Ready to Face My Biggest Challenge...I am Humbled

The minute you don't respect this race's power, it will break your spirit...
  This race brings the greatest amount of physical and mental stress I have ever felt...I love this race becasue it brings me to the edge, makes me live my weaknesses...It makes me feel alive.

Two weeks out from one of the biggest races of the year. The Grand Columbian Half Ironman. I have been putting in my miles, consistently, I feel more prepared for this year's race than any other race. Despite a busy schedule at school and work, my training has been consistently big in terms of miles. I don't feel the pressure of past years and my running has progressed nicely, I am anxious to run. I feel amazing and am ready to throw down.

This race, simply stated, is tough. The bike course has a tough climb right at the start, the rest of the ride is a fight against rolling hills and wind. Only the top riders average 20+ miles per hour. The run is usually hot, but pretty unique being right next to the Columbia River...a punishing hill is at mile 13 on run. By the way, the camping is pretty primo too.

Some races, as is the case with this one, just have a special feel to them. This race carries a very special power. Maybe it's the venue, the expo, the camping, the course, whatever it may be, it is something that I haven't felt very many times. This is a race that if you don't respect its power, it will humble you to your lowest point. It has happened to me...twice.

I did this race in 2005 as a tri rookie. Going in I didn't think much of it and went after it from the start, pressing the pace all the way on the bike. I threw caution to the wind and rode hammer down. I didn't respect the bike course and was broken down on the run at mile 8. The worst mental fatigue and pressure was saddled upon my shoulders. My spirit was fractured...I was walking. I averaged 9 minute miles after walking on the run. I dragged myself to line in 30-something place, I was humbled. On top of that I had to live with that experience and doubt in my mind all winter.

In 2006 I had respect for the race, but not enough. I had my fastest half iron swim (29:50), but stayed Conservative on the bike. I was off and running in 17th place. The pain and fatigue returned, I cracked under the immense pressure again, this time at mile 10 or so. I fell off the pace and faded to 27th give or take a few. Again, the feelings of cracking have been with me for 2 years. I did end up 2nd in my age division but the race was still a mental and physical disaster.

Granted the first two years I did the race I was young, by long course tri standards. My body didn't have the miles in it that a strong race on this course demands. This year I feel as if I am ready to meet this challenge. My body responds to training, volume and intensity, as well as it ever has. I have put together a consistent string to races and training session of running well off the bike. I know it will hurt, but my body is ready. I am in a good place mentally.

I look forward to traveling with my teammate Geoff, camping, seeing friends, and making new ones. I look forward to going to my limits, living a dream, and crossing the finish line with a smile. Simply, I am ready for Grand Columbian. This time will be different, I have paid my dues to this race, I respect it fully. I am Humbled.

2nd...Again. Fastest Bike Split.

First off...check out this custom tuxedo I had made for me...don't hate, appreciate.
 

Very few times do you have a race where everything works, the engine burns red hot, but not hot enough to meltdown. Those times represent maximizing your training, and potential for that particular day or race. Headed down to the "Root" for some good old sprint race action. I knew going in that the competition would be tough, in addition I had one of the worst meltdowns at this race in 2007.

In 2006 I was 2nd overall with a great day and have really struggled to find that level of racing since. In 2007 I was tired from the first 500 yards in the swim and backslid on the bike and run, a horrible day in my mind. I wanted redemption. Lucky for me, there were alot of the same racers in 2008 that passed me in 2007.

Despite not swimming all week, pathetic I know, I had a decent swim. I cam out of the water 3rd and was able to lap a few of the people I was keeping my eye on for later in the race. A fast T1 moved me to 2nd starting the bike. I noticed a group of three cyclists behind me on the first turn and decided my strategy needed to be "out of sight out of mind." For the next 15 minutes I rode on the very tip of saddle hammering the pedals, not moving my head or body as to not disrupt any airflow. I felt good, despite doing a 75 mile ride through 2 rainstorms 2 days before.

At the turn around I waited and waited to see those cyclist coming in the opposite direction and gauge the distance. I was pretty pleased with myself when I saw I had detonated them as the nearest cyclist was almost a mile behind. Despite my hard effort on the bike I did not catch my friend, Geoff, that kid is racing well this year.

Coming into T2 a man on a 4 wheeler with a video camera was taking some action shots. He drove his 4 wheeler right through transition, to my bike spot and left right on my heels as I ran out of transition...betcha that's never happened to anyone else.

On the run I felt the best I ever have. I saw that Geoff was about a minute ahead and running well. I too was running my best but probably not well enough to run a minute of a person that runs 1:20's for half marathons. I cruised the first of two loops on the run, no on was in sight behind me so I decided to enjoy the feeling of running so well, and blew a kiss to my cheering family...back to business, I ran hard the second loop, fast for sure but never really found that pain factor that is usually the agonizing run leg.

I like this new run speed and strength, I could definitely get used to it. Since there were other heats I didn't want a "sleeper" to sneak in so I sprinted the last 200 meters to the finish. With 50 yards to go I spotted my long lost bitterroot friend, "Akon" Reily, it was good to see him. I also heard 2 different people yell "don't do a John Rambo", and "no mooning." WTF. I settled for a big smile, and pumping my hands above my head, fingers pointed, alternating, as if poking the sky. I don't know why I did it, it just felt good to finally have the fitness, strength, and run that I knew I was capable of.

I ended up 2nd overall, winning my age division, a minute behind my superstar/ironman friend, and over 4 minutes up on those who beat me last year. I also avenged my loss at Seeley, by beating last week's race winner my a few minutes. The day was amazing, one that I will remember forever. The strength on the bike and the run where things I dream of...I finally lived it. I finally go the monkey off my back and broke my personal best of 2 years...We go up from here.

PS The back of my custom designed shirt is just as cool...FACT

Not to be outdone, my sister raced to a strong third place finish in the women's division. Another great day for me and my family. These are they types of days I live for as an athlete, a chance to be at my best and feel super human. Although I did not win the race, I gave my best and maximized my potential for a given race. A day like this proves all the sacrifice is always worth it in the end.

Always the Bride's Maid (2nd place), Never the Bride...

True to typical fashion, I jumped into a local race in Seeley. I had a pretty big week of training so I didn't expect anything amazing in terms of performance, but I figured why not, it will give me a reason to go camp. It is a rather unorthodox race run with a 300 yard swim, 13 mile bike and a 3.3 mile run. That short of a swim leaves a little to be desired but, what the heck, a short swim just means I can rest my swim motors that week, right?

Anyway same usual protocol with a beach sprint entry, people blow past and start swimming way above their abilities and aerobic thresholds, which takes them over my back. Within a hundred yards, like always, I swim back through them, and over if I can...paybacks as they slow with an anaerobic rush. My arms felt heavy as a result of not swimming very much that week, but me hands soon hit sand and I was going into T1 in first.

A quick transition and I was riding, over speed bumps, I soon found the main route and was in rhythm. My legs felt tired and I really lacked motivation to hammer it and enter the world of pain, so I rode easy, well kinda easy. At the bike turn around I saw I had extended my lead to about a minute, but 5 people were within 2 minutes. I rested my tired legs, hoping for a strong run, the last half of the course.

A typical T2, shoes and headgear and I was off and truckin'. I felt tired on the run but I wasn't running that super hard pace where it was really painful, I was enjoying myself. I just focused on clicking off the miles and finding a rhythm. I missed my water handoff but kept going as I snuck a peak of a fast chargin' runner. At the three mile mark I was running well for the day, a 6:32 per mile pace, but a kid 4 year older than me caught me. I really wasn't willing to latch on and hurt the last few minutes. I have no excuse, the kid just had a better day, I led the swim and the bike and most of the run. I had a 6:30 pace but he just was a little bit faster and caught me in the end.

I am happy with second, I appreciate the opportunity to race, and on a low key day like this second is what I deserved as I was simply not willing emotionally and physically to enter "the chamber" of pain to win. I was happy in the end with a 2nd overall and another age group win. It was a great day, my family was there, my sister had a great day, leading most of the women's bike segment. No complaints from me.

Tough Day at Troika

Sometimes in life, things go smoothly, to plan, and meet your expectations. However, I find it is the tough times, when the wheels fall off, the plan goes awry, a meltdown occurs, or things go to hell in a hand basket, when you learn the most important lessons about yourself...


Endurance racing is such an amazing sport. It is an opportunity to exercise your greatest mental and physical strengths, as well as a hard truth, pull no punches window for your greatest fears and weaknesses to emerge. It was at my recent Half Iroman that I found plenty of both...

Coming into this race I had focused on my running, things felt good all season, mostly successful feats. However, true to triathlon, I was worried about two things going into this race. First, I have no excuse, but my bike training has simply been lack luster. Due to stress or work or whatever rationalizations people give, I simple did not put in the bike miles to allow myself to use my newly developed run fitness. So let me get this straight, you need to train the cycling in order to be able to run well...?? Exactly!

The second reason of worry, is I had been racing alot, almost every weekend. Traveling, getting up early, staying up late, and other stresses associated with races can take it out of you for sure. None-the-less I actually felt good going into the race. In addition I stayed at a primo suite and was treated like a king by the crew of PEAK 7 Adventures...shout out, holla. My sister was a great travel partner and dealt with all the equipment setup and logistics of getting me to the start, thanks.

Minutes before the swim I felt confident, rested, and ready to rock. The gun went off and I entered the water in about 30th. Throughout the whole swim I found it almost impossible to swim anything resembling a straight line. I started on the inside of the clockwise swim but with minutes I was 30 feet outside the pack to the left. The next few minutes would see me drift back across the pack like a driver cutting across a 3 lane freeway to get off an exit. This pattern continued most of the swim so I swam pretty much by myself.

I exited the water in 30:15, 15th place. Not bad considering my "optimal" line choice. I made it quickly through transition and was enjoying the first 10 miles of the bike, I felt great. At the first bike turnaround I counted the people and found myself in 7th place. I thought "that's it, I can do this." The bike portion was a huge draft-fest, what are people thinking. One guy passed me, my teammate and the 2 people in front of us by drafting a truck going down the road. He was going at least 30 mph while we all slugged along draft free at 22 mph. (He later go his when he showed his true colors and melted on the run and we all re-passed him.) Another case was 2 guys drafted up to me and my teammate. They must have figured we were a good draft as that is what they did.

Above all that, one guy insisted on having a conversation about the weather while suckin' wheel. The other obvious drafter happened to be 24, in may age division. I knew we were 1 and 2 at the time so it made it frustrating when he sat on my wheel for 30 minutes. Big suprise, but the kid launched an attack at about the 40 mile mark, well rested from sitting on my the whole time of course, and I couldn't answer. Are you people kidding me? What happened to honest competition? Yo, dude... Man Up.

On the bike I was way ahead of predictions and not tired at all, but I had problems starting...I drank warm water, and it didn't want to move through the system. I could feel it in my stomach not doing much but sloshing around. So what do I do? Do I continue nutrition as normal, or abstain and see if my gut will empty, no on wants to run with low muscle fuel or with a full stomach. That's a lose lose for sure. After slowing considerably to allow for a system reset, and viewing numerous flagrant drafting situations (no penalties of course) I entered T2 in 30th place and backsliding.

A positive sided note was that I still managed to average over 22 mph bike split. Upon stepping off my bike I knew I was done, I was totally bonked from taking in no fuel the last hour on the bike and my stomach was still full. On top of that I was starving for solid food.

The first few miles on the run were not bad, I was hitting a 7:30 pace but it was taking every once of focus. I was breezing through aid stations slamming down, bananas, oranges, gels, drinks, and energy bars. Nothing was being absorbed but I was so hungry! At the 5.5 mile mark the wheels fell off, I couldn't take the warm water sloggin in my stomach and the painful empty-ness off a major bonk in my legs. The weight of hard work sacrificed, and goals diminished hit hard sometimes.

I relinquished any thoughts of top 20 and/or a run. Damage control was my main priority. Aside from Mr. Honest who is a fabulous drafter, I knew I was in contention for an age group place, in addition to a sub five finish...the only problem was I was walking and fading fast. At mile 10, I had me my limit, the window to my mental and physical weaknesses were wide open for everyone to see in. My friends and family were seeing me humbled by the sport that has elevated me in their eyes. I was broken spirit. The wheels officially fell off at the 11 mark. No more running for me, I was too upset, shattered if you will, to press any harder.

My friend Russ, went by me...what the hell! Granted he has put in a tremendous season and progress but up to this point he has never beaten me in a race. I handled his challenge with minutes to spare in short races, when he went by it was like being kicked when you're down for sure. I coasted through the finishing area (walking), it was if people though they could magically heal all the damage if they could will me to run the last 30 yards. I wanted to walk by myself and quickly disappear to fade into oblivion.

While the process was horrendous and a huge let down, the result was actually not that bad. I ended up at 4:57, 39th overall, and 2nd in may age division (guess who won...Mr. Honest). To go through all that, walk a significant portion of the run and still end up under 5 hours says to me that my fitness is good, I just didn't have all the pieces come together on this day. Scary to think what could have been.


I learned so much from this race. I suffered beyond belief, had my pride shattered before my own eyes, and experienced a tremendous meltdown. However, far away the most important thing I learned is to appreciate every moment. My "horrendous situation" is noting compared to what many people face. The fact that I am free to live this life and have the opportunity to meltdown is often under appreciated. The ability to swim, bike and run without physical or emotional limitations is taken for granted.

I know that for every triathlete that raced on that day there are thousands, maybe millions of people that will never have the chance, through internally or externally imposed limitations. To complain about a sub five hour half or even a 2nd place finish is to disrespect those who will never have the opportunity. Never again will I complain about a top five, top ten, or even a total meltdown like I had. I am thankful for every minute regardless of level of success or failure I think my last race produced. I appreciated having the ability to race, suffer, and to peer into the window of weakness.

Wrong Turn...Avenged

Fresh off my disappointing wrong turn rodeo, I jetted to West Yellowstone to race at the Best of US Montana Qualifier. Traveled down the day of, love getting up super early and driving during dawn. Upon arriving I found a primo resort town set upon a beautiful lake...I knew it was going to be great, once in a lifetime kind of day.

This is an off road triathlon so I was pleased to bring my cyclocross bike. Surrounded by other wetsuit clad mountain bike ridin' triathletes. The swim was a pristine out and back, we were led all the way bay a cable that ran right on top of the water. Talk about making the sighting and swimming a straight line process much easier! It was an out of water start so in typical fashion I was passed by a bunch of people sprinting to the water. I usually keep the same pace throughout the entire swim so lots of people swim by me at the start but I catch 90% of them within the first 5 minutes of the swim portion.

True to protocol I was at the tail end of the lead group at 300 meters. I flirted with the idea of trying to go off the front and see what happens, as my swim was feeling very smooth and strong. I figured "what the hell" and accelerated around the pack, making sure to go wide and fast as to deter any hitchers from catching the draft. At the turn around I had a few seconds lead. I continued my tempo and held a super straight line, thanks to the guide cable, and headed towards shore. I knew it was going to be wild as I never have led the swim portion of an open water swim. Pretty great feeling, I tried to stay calm.

Once through transition I was cruising atop my Kona Cross Bike. I never looked back and tried to distance other riders, and those faster runners. I felt relatively fast throughout the whole ride with the exceptions of the corners. I generally lack off road skills and it showed. Two times I rode into the corners too hot and found myself off the road in the bushes and ditch...no problem I'm on a bulldozer of a bike, not wimpy carbon road bike, we are talking brush bashing steel. I quickly found my way back to transition and my running shoes.

I knew I needed a good run to place well. The run hurt, and I did run off course, deja vou, but unlike last race, race officials quickly righted my path...thanks for that crew. At the front it still hurts but it is alot more fun to hurt as I was doing my best to catch the thrill of victory that drifted just ahead. I did what I could to kick the last mile so that I could enjoy the finish area.

I spent days, weeks, and months to be in this position. A position that I will never be guaranteed again, a position that few people ever achieve, I was determined to enjoy the payoff. When I crossed the finish line everything I had done up to the that point, the time alone, the finicky diet, the sacrifices were all justified and all worth it. No one will ever take that away from me.

More so than the victory, I am proudest of my actions after the race. I congratulated the racers finishing behind me...then the racers behind them...then those finishing after them. Before I knew it I was congratulating every finisher...everyone. As I waited for each finisher, people began to come and talk to me and tell me what a class act of sportsmanship it was of me to wait. My simple reply to them was "slow or fast, we all give our best and hurt the same." It was such a special moment to greet each of the finishers and give them the respect, my respect, that they have earned.
 Check out my friend Dan getting the classic Hi-5 as he puts on the speed.
 Post race I learned I had earned a spot to go to Tempe and race. I won't be going, but this race will forever live with me as it was a true once in lifetime moment, a wonderful day, a justification of whatever it is I do everyday...wrong turn avenged.

Legit Bike Power...

The bicycle is amazingly simple, yet very complex. A unit powered by human energy both in terms of physical power and the emotional power to will oneself to ride... Whether you live to ride, ride to live, ride for a cause, or simply ride to stay in shape, we experience things that a very small portion of the world's population will. Being a cyclist allows everyone to feel superhuman. A fast efficient machine combined with aero helmets, sunglasses, fast-looking cycling kits, and tanned and shaved legs...if that doesn't describe super hero, I don't know what to say.

Every cyclist has had the feeling of being invincible. The feeling of power while time-trialing, the power that makes the cranks almost turn themselves, the power that makes us feel like Floyd Landis, Fabian Cancellara, or dare I say Lance Armstrong. The only difference is we feel this power not on the world's grandest stage or in the peloton in France, but on our hometown roads, by ourselves while climbing the local Alpe 'Duez, on a forest service road, or flying down main street. The point being here is we don't have to constantly hold ourselves against the standards of modern cycling heros, local champions, or even our teammates. (That is why they have races. A race is the time to throw down and compare your preparation, skill, and desire with those around and against you.)

It doesn't matter what anyone else does day to day because it is yourself you must hold accountable for preparation (or lack thereof). All dedicated cyclists make sacrifices and suffer the same amount when giving the engines full throttle. Whether you have the power to push 100 or 1000 watts as long as you are giving your best the suffering is the same You deserve the self satisfaction of testing the limits of your mental and physical attributes.

Each individual that puts in the time and makes the sacrifices to commit to a goal of bettering him or herself, no matter their motivation, no longer deserves to placed in a category of day to day comparison with another rider, again that is what a race is for. Those who give their best everyday without letting excuses or the fear of uncertainty hold them back, have achieved one of the greatest feelings on earth, no longer the feeling of being Floyd Landis or Jan Ulrich, but a feeling that allows us, for once our life, to be our own hero. Never, for even a second, let anyone place a doubt in your mind about the power of cycling or the worthiness of becoming your own hero.

3am Wakeup and a Serpentine Swim...

Despite having a week of workouts that resembled getting up from the recliner and watching FitTV, I decided to skip over to the Harvest Thunder Triathlon. A serpentine swim and a lunch of river bugs awaited... Traveling over the day of the race was pretty crazy as we had to get up at 3 am. Luckily I was able to hitch a ride with my teammate Evan, which allowed for a little rest in the car. As for the race, the swim portion was much like a duathlon start in which the swimmers started one by one, thirty seconds apart. This serpentine swim was pretty "special" swimmers go down and back in lane one circle swimming. After completing one lap, swimmers duck under the lane line and repeat the protocol in lane 2...at least it was easy to remember what lap I was on.

The team swimmers started first, which presented a slight problem as the fastest individual swimmers wound up swimming through the team heat. I had to swim by a few slower team swimmers but found no difficulty. The bike course was relatively flat except for a significant hill at the turn around. I always like the feeling of being a human missile on the bike, riding low in the aerobars, creeping up all the way to the tip of the saddle, race wheels roaring like helicopter blades, simply on a mission. As this was a staggered start, it was hard to tell what place I was in or who was riding well. The only solution was to hammer and let it sort itself out at the finish. Despite major mouth clogging clouds of bugs, the bike was very enjoyable. My muscles felt thick and strong throughout the 20k course.

I went quickly through transitions to the sounds of the fans and a random "god-speed runner." The fatigue from my last weeks run blowup still lingered and the minutes on the run began to creep. The run twisted by the river and through a local park, upon completing the park lap I saw the sign that said we have to do another lap...sucks. I found myself letting up as I just didn't want to suffer anymore. I completed the last part of the park lap, back down the riverside bike path and back to the pool. I figured I'd try and clear out my legs with a sprint at the end...mmm feels good, and by good I actually mean bad.

At the finish line, I saw how things had sorted out, I ended up 4th, couldn't catch my uber-biker friend Evan, but put over 3 minutes on 5th...I couldn't help thinking that I could have ran 2.5 minutes slower and had alot more fun! I quickly remembered that triathletes, most crazy like myself, don't have fun unless we are suffering. The more pain, the more pleasure...it's messed up sport...and we all love it.
Me and my Teammate Evan at the Awards Ceremony.

I wouldn't believe it if it didn't happen to me...

Living alone, in a town away from everyone I know certainly has its disadvantages. One of those would definitely be the absence of a helper when a ride takes a turn for the worst... Living in Helena has provided me with a pretty cool change of bike scenery. I have explored, Three Forks, Canyon Ferry Lake, Canyon Ferry Dam, Townsend, and McDonald Pass. Recently one of my adventures took a turn for the worst and I found myself in a situation that while not being unthinkable, rarely ever crosses your mind as a cyclist.

While riding around the reservoir I had the fortune to suffer a flat tire. Not a big deal, happens to hundreds of thousands of cyclists and I always ride with a CO2 inflator and a spare. What I hadn't counted on was being immediately attacked by hundreds of mosquitoes. These little buggers where in my jersey, biting me through my clothing and even on my face. I couldn't swap them fast enough. All this while having to change a tire. My level of stress immediately went to red line as I took this attack as a personal slight.

With anger I ripped off my inflator and tube in one twisting motions. I jammed the lever under the tire bead and forced it around the tire. I ripped the old tube out, slamming it to the ground in frustration. At this point my attackers were so bad that it was like mini needles jammed into my legs, arms, and face. I regrettably hurried too much and pinch flatted the new tube...dang! I went into survival mode as the seriousness of having an 8 mile walk home in bare feet set in. I did the only thing any reasonable man would do...I slumped to the side of the road and cried my eyes out...just kidding. I started walking home, every step jammed hot chip seal into my heels and forefoot. Wow this sucks...but I should be home in 2 hours, if ever. But wait...a truck was pulling out in a driveway about 100 feet in front of me, this is my one chance.

I flagged the truck. Wonder what they thought when they say a kitted up cyclist in bare feet bum rushing their vehicle...? I asked the driver if they were going "that way" while gesturing. They simply said "no I am sorry I am not." It was plead or walk home. I hoped I could pay them for a ride, so I asked. I think the driver realized my situation and its severity and agreed to give me a ride.

On that ride home I answered alot of questions like am I on a team, and even what the heck am I doing. Needless to say, I answered them all willingly. The driver that picked me up was my hero for that week. I rode a different bike back to the driver's house to give them a thank you card. I was invited into their living room and learned about them and their family. I even gained a dinner invite and a standing offer to call them if the flat thing ever happens again...pretty cool. Just goes to show you that people are still willing to help others, even when it makes them go out of their way. I won't ever forget that day or the incredibly generous person that picked me up. She really saved my day and pulled me out of a tight jam.

Victim of a Wrong Turn...

I consider myself to be a smart man, certainly capable of following directions. Unfortunately, following directions became my undoing at the YMCA Triathlon... The race started with a half mile swim in the YMCA's Pool. Not a big deal for me as I enjoy the simplicity of pool swims. A clever foreshadow of my fate came on lap 18 when I should have exited the pool, but I didn't see the last lap kickboard and swam a little extra.

On the bike it was business as usual. I typically ride at the same speed whether I am tired or fresh. This occurance always sets me up as being ready to run or being fatigued from riding too hard. None-the-less, I cruised the 20k course with no one in sight...including volunteers. I came into transitions feeling fresh. I always like the speed and effieciency of the the bike segment. Aero helmets and race wheels always make you feel really fast. I navigated the last segment on the a bike on descended into the YMCA parking lot. A quick side-saddle dismount, bike rack, and helmet for visor exchange and I was off and running, feeling good.


I knew I had a big lead on the other racers, but I wanted to see if I could throw down a sub 20 minute 5k. After running on a dirt trail for about a kilometer I encountered a four was crossing. I felt it wasn't marked as it should be and I wound up taking the wrong quad. Don't get me wrong, the segment I ran was pretty cool. I ran through a huge tunnel, by an industrial plant, and around a baseball complex. The clincher is none of these structures were intended to be included on the run course. Who knows how I made my way back on course but I actually completed the entire 3 mile run course...plus the mile and a half that I ran extra, as if the race was hard enough.

Throughout the run it felt so long, as if time was dragging, I would later find out why. As a side note, I encountered another racer that was taking a wrong turn as I passed them, I quickly righted them...is there a theme here? After miraculously finding my way along the run course, I spotted the finish. I pushed the pace and sprinted to the finish line.

At the results ceremony, I was enlightened to the fact that my 5K run time was 29 minutes (due to the fact I ran 1.5 miles extra) by running that extra mile and a half "for fun" I managed to lose all of my 6 minute lead that I had accrued with my swim-bike combination, which put me second place overall by 14 seconds...Seriously. By no means do I hold anything against the race organizers, they did the best they could, but to get second because of that is pretty bad. Needless to say, that one took awhile to get over. I don't know if I will ever let it go until I go back and collect what I deserve...There is always next year I guess.

You haven't seen anything like this...

Do not adjust your monitor...this is not a test.