Humans are AMAZING! (My Ironman 70.3 recap)

Rather than make a super long Facebook post that would just get buried in my feed, I decided there’s so much to unpack from the weekend that I should write a full blog…

My apologies in advance if this gets really long but it’s worth the read!

Why did I sign up?

It’s been 13 years since I competed in triathlon. In fact, until November I hadn’t even sat on my bike in 12!

Ironman 70.3 in Lawrence in June of 2013 was a much different experience than this one. I was younger, hungrier for competition, much harder on myself, and when the dust settled…I was done.

There was no plan for what to do next. Zero aspirations for another or really anything related to it.

Over those 12 years I thought about selling my bike at least 10 times. I compared cost versus what it would take to replace it should I ever try again and it just wasn’t worth it.

Fast forward to last fall.

My friend and client Nate told me that Ironman was coming to Omaha and he was interested in signing up. He’s an amazing athlete and I knew he’d do well.

In fact, my biggest regret in this whole process is not finding time to train more with Nate. Everything is better with friends, right?

Right then the seed was planted. Turns out I kept the bike for a reason.

What if? What if this is the bridge I needed to maybe check the final thing off my lifetime bucket list?

I had barely done any aerobic conditioning in 7 years outside of one summer where I did “Murph” every weekend from Memorial Day to Labor Day.

November to June seemed like plenty of time considering I’d done one before, right?

If this went well, and I didn’t hate it when it was over – maybe I’ll pursue the holy grail of a FULL Ironman!

Making the commitment.

I decided I would test the waters by getting a little jogging in and starting with some bike cardio on the Rogue Echo bikes at the gym.

(Two bad calf muscles enter the chat)

Yup, turns out when you haven’t done much traditional cardio in years your body resents you. I developed calf issues in not one but both calves.

I couldn’t run more than 8-10 minutes at first without near crippling discomfort. I mean, I ran a 3:40 marathon in fall of 2012…how can I not even run a mile at 44 years old?

I started introducing “on” and “off” intervals and some calf physical therapy. I told myself that if I could run 3 miles by the end of November, I would sign up.

Then I saw a promotion for the IRONMAN Foundation. “Race for more” was their slogan. I was intrigued.

There were perks for me obviously, but mostly I saw it as an opportunity to commit to the event.

Worst case scenario…I get hurt or I’m unable to compete for some reason. At least all of the money we raise would still go to a great cause!

So I committed and with your amazing support we raised over $2400 for the IRONMAN Foundation!

So I trained. The skills came back quicker than I thought. Swimming was actually going “well” (this will be ironic later on).

Cycling was a chore on the trainer but once weather allowed, biking outside was actually very refreshing and enjoyable!

Running sucked. Every time. Then I would get a day or two where I was thinking “man I think I’ve turned a corner with my calves.”

Nope.

Even the week before the race I started tightening up about 2 miles in so I knew race day was going to be a gamble.

Race week approached. I felt as prepared as one could be given my circumstances.

Rachel and I decided to make a weekend out of it and head to Omaha on Friday.

My wife is amazing!

This is where I’m going to pause for a second and go off on a side note. These events are individual, yes. You HAVE to have the support of your spouse or it won’t work.

The last two months especially, she was amazing. Often encouraging me to get the swim in that I needed. Telling me to go for that ride. Asking how the calves were feeling.

When it’s happening, you don’t appreciate it as much as looking back. For that, I’m sorry!

She put her own interests to the side and supported me 100%, especially last weekend.

Saturday was a long day of running around and it was tiring in its own right. We talked about maybe going to the Joselyn or something. There was NOT time.

Race day, she was up with me at 3:45am. Getting ready, making sure I didn’t forget anything. Helping to navigate.

I’ll save the race day support for later.

Rachel, I love you and thank you!

The IRONMAN Foundation team.

A few weeks prior a WhatsApp chat was started with our Foundation team. There was some general communication about the event and things leading up to it.

This was the first time that any of us had talked with each other and it was mostly informal but it was fun to have this private group to chat about the race with.

Saturday we checked in, met up with the IRONMAN Foundation crew and fellow fundraisers. What a GREAT group to share this with! I know those guys may never see this but I instantly felt like we had a bond and became friends.

Nick, John, Riley, and Jake. Great job!

Thank you to Andrea and Cooper from the Foundation for the support and help as well!

I look forward to working with the IRONMAN Foundation in future events.

I’ll tell a little more about how Jake saved my swim later.

Race day. Swim.

Everything went great at first. Double and triple checked every bag. Didn’t forget anything.

My first panic moment came when I was getting my wetsuit out and ready. I couldn’t find my goggles. ANYWHERE. I was clearly freaking out.

Then I found them, wrapped up inside my wetsuit. Whew.

Side note, one cool benefit of racing with the IRONMAN Foundation crew was you got a low bib number.

Mine was #27. Ironically my second favorite number growing up. Jeremy Roenick of the Chicago Blackhawks wore this throughout his career and was my favorite hockey player. My first every “authentic” jersey was his, purchased when we were in Canada on a vacation once.

Anyway.

Nate found me before the race and we were chatting it up. Then panic struck again as I was telling him about how I couldn’t find my goggles…because I COULDN’T FIND MY GOGGLES!

I freaked out again. Turns out they were hanging off my aerobars. (Facepalm)

Ok. Wetsuit is on and read to rock. They’re calling for us to head towards the water.

The foundation crew got to hang out in a special area outside of the swim and were able to just feed in when we felt it was appropriate.

Leading up to Sunday, I didn’t get a whole lot of actual swim training but I was fortunate enough to get several open water swims in (thank you Matt & Shannon!). My last one was about a mile non-stop so I was feeling pretty confident.

Immediately I couldn’t find my breathing. Exhaling underwater was not happening. That’s the thing about the swim too, there’s no “break.” Unlike the bike or run, where you can walk or coast to recover.

Swimming you can’t. Even treading water feels like death when you are in a panic.

After about 200-300m of side stroke (which I didn’t practice at all) I wanted to quit. I looked at every buoy as a place to hang on and call for the boats to come get me.

Then I remembered telling one of the other Foundation athletes who was there for his first time. “Just keep moving forward. Back stroke, side stroke, anything you can do to not stop.”

I took my own advice and kept moving. It was at that point I accepted my fate and a wave of comfort came over me. I would just side stroke the whole thing.

I looked up a few times and it’s really freaking intimidating to see how much farther you have to go. Especially when you feel like it’s been a disaster. I kept going though.

I made the final turn and that’s when I saw a familiar face. Jake was treading water just past the final turn. I don’t remember the exact exchange but I think I asked if he was good, and he replied with “just taking a little break!”

I giggled a little. It’s what he said next that sent a shot of confidence in me and I can’t explain why. He said something like, “ok we got this, let’s go buddy.”

It may not have been anything close to those exact words but I immediately had the confidence to try to resume my normal stroke.

Perfect breathing. Just like that. I compare it to having the yips in golf. Once it feels good all the confidence comes back. So I swam, making up significant time on the people that had just passed me.

Then it happened…I got super dizzy. I took an extended look up after about 20-25 strokes and I wanted to throw up.

They had just told us in the pre-race meeting to notify the emergency personnel if anything went wrong. I thought about it immediately. I also didn’t want my race to be over.

Side stroke it is! After a few seconds I felt fine again. I don’t know what it was but maybe the twisting and turning when I was not doing it prior. Who knows.

I decided to give it another go. Felt great! I’m cruising now and probably only about 500m to go.

Then it happened again….dizzy.

Shortly after a kayaker asked if I was good and I said, “yep!” And I was, but it was definitely scary.

When we got within eye shot of the crowd I said, “f-it. I can’t go in like this” and resumed my more efficient stroke. I got all the way to where my feet hit the ramp and wobbled my way up to the volunteer that gave me a hand.

I walked. Slowly, lol. I started removing my wetsuit and scanned the crowd for Rachel. I knew she was probably nervous so I wanted to make sure she knew I was ok, even though I felt like ass.

Transition was slow, but I was ok with that. Met up with Jake and we shared some words of encouragement.

Then it was off to the bike!

Bike course.

This is the quote from the website, which I’m sure we’re all going to beg to be changed after this year!

“Take on the inaugural IRONMAN 70.3 Omaha, featuring flat rolling terrain, warm temperatures, and big‑city access with small‑town charm in Nebraska.”

Flat…rolling…terrain. Yeah, ok.

There were some flat parts, but the overall consensus after the event was that this is one of the hardest bike courses in North America.

There were athletes with 40+ races under their belts saying it might have been the hardest. One comment said a race that had 30mph head winds for 28 miles was easier.

For me though, it was probably by best leg even though my time doesn’t reflect it. I found a real enjoyment for outdoor riding and really had a great time even though it sucked royal ass through most of it.

My nutrition plan going in was solid. Two full nutrition bottles with carbs, 4 gels, and about 15 sodium pills. That’s when the first thing went wrong.

The first bump in the road no more than probably 100 feet out of transition caused half of my pills to pop out of the carrier in the front. I decided to put the rest in my jersey because ChatGPT said they wouldn’t dissolve.

Common sense says they would, and common sense was right. I reached back for the first one and it was a pile of goo.

Electrolytes are very important if you didn’t know. So now I had to rely on the drink they were giving out. The problem was I didn’t have a spot for it. I ended up dumping my empty one off at an aid station to make room.

I didn’t love the taste but it was all I had.

The first climb out was a massive hill where several athletes chose to walk their bikes up. I probably would have been faster if I did but I just put it in my easiest gear and grinded through it.

Then my back got really tight. I was training a TON in the aero position and have never felt better in it. Too bad I’d spent almost 50-60% of the first 15 miles upright trying to grind the hills.

Once we got through all the crazy climbs and hit a stretch where I could go aero for more than 5 mins, it relaxed and I was good to go.

Things were going great but this is when I started to notice how freaking awesome people are in these events.

You spend so much time on the bike that you get to see the vast differences in people that are participating and it just blows my mind.

I got passed by probably 10 grandmas, 3-5 people on mountain or hybrid bikes (mine is a carbon aero bike that was $2800 in 2012), people in regular tennis shoes, even guys that were probably 250-300#.

I was in awe. In fact, one girl passed me at probably 17-18 mph on a hybrid upright bike wearing new balance.

Normally I would take that as a hit on my ego and pride but in these events it’s just awe inspiring.

I contemplated not talking about this next part but anyone who’s been an endurance athlete of any kind will have sympathy and understand.

I shit my pants. Yup. It happened. Around mile 20 or so. The aid station wasn’t until mile 30 ish.

I had some bloat from all the liquid nutrition and I trusted a fart that I shouldn’t have. So I just counted the miles until I could see what the damage was and PRAY it wasn’t visible from the outside!

A bright spot did happen though between that and the aid station. A lady with a huge, fluffy dog told me good job and all I could think of to say was “tell your dog hi for me!” =)

I hit the aid station, made a pitstop, and assessed the situation.

It wasn’t as bad as I initially thought! We can go on knowing that I’ll be the only one that knows…that is until I tell literally everyone because it’s so funny!

Coming out of the aid station I saw Nate randomly as he passed by and he hollered some words of encouragement.

There was a moment when I thought I’d try to catch him but he’s just a much better rider than me so I never saw him again after that. In fact, I think he gained like 10 additional minutes on me that last half.

I kept going and really enjoyed the next stretch as much as I could. Then I felt the stomach bubble again.

I looked over my right shoulder, no one for about 30m. I let it go reluctantly. When I realized it was safe I had a ground rumbling gas release and it felt great to relieve some of that pressure. Until……

I looked left and there’s a guy right on my side passing me! I was mortified.

“Omg I’m so sorry! I didn’t think anyone was around!” I yelled to him as he’s laughing.

His response was something like “I heard it and looked around thinking, what the hell was that noise?!”

Ya that was me. All me. =(

The race director and the announcer reminded us before the event to NOT trust the vehicle drivers who were being held up at those intersections. We were near mile 50 and the unthinkable almost happened.

The rider in front of me was flying down this hill approaching a 4 lane intersection and I hear “HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY!” as a lady ignores the officer with his hand up holding traffic and pulls nearly directly in front of him.

He managed to slow down and get around her.

The officer….was…upset, to say the least. He yelled any number of curse words that I’ll let you imagine.

I heard her say as I passed by “well, what was I supposed to do? You weren’t telling us when to go!?”

His reply had a lot of fffffffff’s in it and I think she may have gotten a ticket or something, because he said to not leave until someone came for her.

I had that same thing happen during the Cornhusker State Games sprint at Holmes Lake years ago. I was going down the hill, northbound on 56th St and a lady pulled right out in front of me against the officer’s direction. I slammed on both breaks, ended up in a wheelie on my front tire and missed her passenger door by what felt like inches.

2 mph faster and I think my helmet would have went in her driver’s window.

Anyway, he got through it and so did I.

The next section was a gorgeous path through some areas of Omaha I’d never been. Gorgeous but REALLY hilly. Again, many athletes were walking up the hills. Although some made it look so easy!

It was really exciting when we hit the downtown, knowing it was about over and then the real grind would begin.

I came down the final stretch and dismounted. I saw Rachel as I entered the transition.

Once I had changed and was ready to exit, I met her at the fence for a good luck smooch =).

I needed it.

I knew the run would be a crapshoot but I already had a walk jog plan in place. Off I went!

1/2 Marathon =(

I mentioned before that I was dealing with calf issues. My longest continuous run in training was about 3.8 miles. Most of my mileage was “on” and “off” intervals of a mile or less.

The athlete guide said there were going to be aid stations every mile. My plan was to run from station to station, only walking to get nutrition and hydration.

I stuck to plan for the first aid station. Walked, hydrated, ate, all good.

The next mile I could feel the calves tightening up.

Oh, on top of all that my back was almost completely locked up. The longer I ran, the better it felt. Stopping made it worse.

So running makes my calves hurt but stopping makes my back hurt. Great.

I changed my strategy to run heel to toe, rather than my normal mid-foot and that seemed to help. Then I just set targets to shoot for. Cones, signs, people, etc.

That was working well. In fact, I joked with a fellow runner that we must have the same strategy because we were nearly running together! He asked if I was doing 1 minute intervals and I said, “nope just looking at something and running to it, lol.”

We parted ways and I kept going.

The rest of the run was really quite uneventful. I walked, I jogged, repeat. I had several conversations with strangers but otherwise I just kept moving.

The one thing that I will say though, is that I never wavered mentally. In 2013 I hated every second of the run even though I was good at it.

This time, I just kept moving forward and actually felt good through almost all of it despite the heat and humidity.

The route was a two loop course that took us over into Iowa and back but it was very spectator friendly.

I would see Rachel at certain spots and she would always say “I love you” and I would respond with some kind of zombie mutter or something completely irrelevant =). I told her the next day that I really wish I would have had more brain power to respond appropriately, lol.

At about mile 5 or 6, near the end of the first loop I came across a young man that was nearly in tears thinking about how much he had left. I know that feeling, that was me last time.

I gave him some words of encouragement and reflected on how good I was actually feeling. I wasn’t even frustrated how bad my time was going to be. I was actually enjoying how terrible it felt and having 7 or so miles left was not intimidating at all.

It was at this point that a probably 75 year old gal passed me running that I became hyper aware of how absolutely incredible people are.

Looking around you saw everything. Old, young, large, small, frail, athletic…you name it. You also couldn’t predict someone’s pace or ability by their looks, what gear they had, or what why wore.

I also became more and more aware of the adversity some of these athletes were enduring. People limping, bleeding, curled over, visibly struggling in nearly every way possible.

But they endured.

Ironman’s slogan is “Anything is Possible.” I believe it. I’ve SEEN it.

I remember crossing the bridge into Iowa completely aware I was getting closer to finishing. Not a PR by any means but for me this was a huge mental win.

Many things went wrong, but I never lost sight of the goal. I set expectations but not unrealistic ones and I made adjustments when things changed.

As I came across the corner for the final turn I told myself I would push through the finish. There were two girls ahead of me by about 15-20 meters. One probably my age, one even older.

I had a moment where I thought I’d turn on the burners and pass them both. Then I thought, I’ll give them their finish they deserve.

Joke was on me, they both kicked it in and even if I wanted to I wasn’t going to catch them let alone pass! Yet another sign of how incredible people are after nearly 8 hours of work.

I crossed the line and looked for Rachel. I got my medal, Andrea and Cooper from the Foundation were right there to congratulate me. They really were great and deserve a lot of credit for what they do!

I finally found Rachel and it was a huge relief to see her smiling at me. I felt good and bad all at the same time, but having her there was like the healing to my wound.

We walked around a bit but decided we’d like to just get on the road. The weekend had come to an end.

Final thoughts.

It took me at least two days to get my brain functioning correctly again. Rachel asked on the drive home I thought about for 7 hours and I didn’t have an answer.

I think I found myself just planning a lot. Watching the road and looking out for imperfections that could cause bike issues.

Lots and lots of observing and noticing. Like, that guy has a really sweet bike setup or look at the crazy sign this person made. There were way more spectators on the bike than I thought, the run as well.

I’m very fortunate that outside of the swim, there weren’t many times where I wasn’t having fun.

I was hoping to come out of the race with a crystal clear vision of where I wanted to go from here but I didn’t get that. Not at first, at least.

After several days I can say that I would like to pursue more triathlon adventures. A full Ironman? That’s still up for discussion.

I would like to see what other opportunities the IRONMAN Foundation has outside of just fundraising for races. Possibly looking into something more local as well.

There was a moment I even told someone prior to the race that if the weather was bad, I would probably sit it out. The fact that I was racing for the foundation made it so that wasn’t an option. I wasn’t about to bail on them.

My final words are not for everyone to go out and sign up for a triathlon or a race of any kind. It’s to get yourself prepared for life. Train enough that you feel good. Get at least a baseline of strength & conditioning so you can handle day to day life with ease.

If you do that, who knows? You may want something more someday. When you do, then you’re already set up for success.

Having a good base of physical health prepares you for everything. Training prepares you for something specific.

90% of the time you might just do it so you can play with kids or grandkids without worrying about your back blowing out.

Then one day you might decide to run a 5k or learn to powerlift. I don’t know! You’ll already have the base to do either one though, or anything that you may choose.

To reiterate what they say in Ironman, “Anything is Possible.”