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.