Don't Limit Yourself

I've been wanting to write about this for some time now. Time lends itself well to perspective, and this is as good of a time as any to share mine.

Back in 2014, after I finished my first Ironman in Madison, Wisconsin, I was euphoric. "This was it," I told myself. "This is the pinnacle. I just completed a freaking Ironman!" Like so many others, I bought the sticker for my car, wore my M-dot branded finishers gear with pride, and of course, I got the obligatory M-dot tattoo on my calf.

I had seen other tattoo styles that had more clever and intriguing designs, but I decided to go simple. Plain ol' M-dot, but "with room for more" I told people, envisioning adding another after each completion, eventually circling around my calf like my friend Doug Staudt had done (he was smart and had his done at the same time).

Until then, there would be just the one, singular, lonely M-dot. "Less is more" - except when it comes to writing race reports, hahah! Since it's on the back of my calf I rarely see it, and others only do when I'm wearing shorts (living in Iowa only allows for shorts regularly about 3 months out of the year, maybe 4). It's a good conversation starter, both with people who recognize what it is and want to share their Ironman story, and also with people who want to know what it is and what it means to me.

I don't ever regret getting it.

However: I wish I had done it differently, and for a variety of reasons.

For starters, I misjudged the size of it when I had it done, and it took up more real-estate than I expected. Because of that, there's limits on what I can do around it. Sure, I could spend thousands of dollars either having it removed or getting something incredibly intricate design done around it, but I'm not sure if I want to go that route. I'm personally not ready for the type of tattoo you have to study it to make out all the details. That works great for lots of people and their tats are beautiful, but I'm not sure it's my style.

The main reason I wish it was smaller is because I'd like something that is more encompassing of all things I've achieved in endurance sports since then, that I'm equally proud of if not more so. The 100 mile run, the back to back marathons, the ultra triathlons, and whatever else I may accomplish in the years ahead. Plus I have to get Wendy and Kaitlynn incorporated in somehow.

I'm sure some of you are thinking, "So just get that stuff added then! What are you griping about? Just have a good tattoo artist come up with a way to incorporate all those things you want to show off." That's not the point.

My point is, I was thrilled with the original tattoo size because I thought nothing would ever top it. In my mind, there was no need to leave room for bigger things when I thought there was nothing bigger out there that I could accomplish?

Looking back, I realize that I'm no different from nearly anyone else in the sense that we all have perceived limits of what we're capable of. Think about it: there was likely a time in your life when you achieved something personally, professionally, or recreationally, and you said to yourself, "Wow. That was awesome. I can't believe I just did that! I have to savor this, since I'll probably never come close to repeating or exceeding that again."

We are right to celebrate those achievements! But as we get older, we have this awful habit to put artificial ceilings in place. "I'm too old to (fill in the blank)," or "That person who I admire and has had so much professional success had a 10 year head start, I won't be able to achieve what they did."

Why do so many of us think that? It's almost as if a majority of humanity is programmed to accept limitations without even attempting something that seems to be out of reach as we get older. We don't have those perceived limitations when we're kids. Parents and teachers (good ones, at least) tell us we can be whatever we want to be when we grow up. At what point do we stop believing that?

More directly, at what point do we stop believing in ourselves?

Is it risk? Is it fear of failure? Probably a little of both. I think as we grow older, we tend to be more cautious and risk-averse. Time and money factor into adulthood that doesn't impact us as severely when we're young. As kids, we have all the time in the world to dream, and dream big. As adults, our responsibilities are a reminder of the things we are told we "have" to do, and those things leave little time for the things we "want" to do.

It's bullshit.

We NEED to keep dreaming, and start finding ways to do more of those things we "want" to do. I'm not suggesting anyone shirk their responsibilities of providing for their families or quitting their jobs, but instead try prioritizing things just a little differently. Time is both the biggest limiter and greatest equalizer. We all get 24 hours in a day - ask yourself how you're using them. Are you putting any of those hours towards achieving your dreams? Or are you lying on the couch, dreaming about it some more and hoping that someday it'll just happen on it's own?

I have friends that have been very successful in their businesses. I have friends that have been very successful in endurance sports. There are plain and obvious similarities between them:

1) They have clearly-defined goals.
2) They have plans in place to achieve them.
3) They do something every day that helps move them closer towards their goals.
4) They rely on the assistance and expertise of others, knowing they don't know it all.
5) They don't fear failure; they fear not learning from it.
6) They keep dreaming bigger.

None of this is new or an earth-shattering revelation, I know. But I can tell you from my own endurance journey, that's exactly how I was able to achieve all that I have so far.

My ambitions have outgrown the M-dot tattoo. It's always going to be a part of me, and like I said before I don't regret it. Why on earth would I regret getting something that represents a proud and significant personal  achievement? The lesson of that tattoo is actually more meaningful than what it represents: I've learned to never limit myself, my dreams, or my ambitions. Those 6 simple steps that I just listed, put into practice every day, can lead to amazing accomplishments. That's how I've been able to do all these "crazy" things.

You're not crazy. Dream big. Believe in yourself. Go after it.

I'm sure I'll get something done with the M-dot eventually. Hell, I've clearly put more thought into this than may be necessary. But that's the thing with tattoos: they're mostly permanent. Yes, I'm fully aware that there's removal technology and techniques out there. I just don't want to treat my body like an Etch-A-Sketch. Tattoos to me are personal, an expression of one's self and whatever self they want to show off to the world or something that's important to them.

The worst-case scenario is I can't come up with a good way to blend it, and end up having both legs and other parts of my body inked up with all the other crazy things I've accomplished now and hope to accomplish in the future. That would be pretty awesome, to have that much to be proud of.

Completing the Trifecta: Triple Todo Triathlon Recap

Before I share the story of the Triple Ultra in Leon, Mexico, you should know

how the whole crazy #trifecta idea came to be. At the 2019 Florida Double

Anvil back in March, I was approached by Joey Lichter, secretary of the

International Ultra Triathlon Association. We had met and become friends

the previous year at the same race. 

“You should consider doing some international races,” he told me. “It would

also be great to see an American challenge the top 3 for World Cup points,

we haven’t had one in a while.”

Just like that, the seeds were planted. Curse you, Joey Lichter! But let's be

honest - most endurance athletes don’t need any encouragement, we only

need a suggestion. ("Race entry fees go up at midnight? OK Brian and Ann,

I'll sign up for the 100 miler.")

I pondered what Joey told me for a few weeks after finishing that race. After

all, I had hung with 2 of the best ultra-triathletes in the world in Florida,

nearly catching one of them on the run. The few foreign triathletes that I had

met at US races were nothing but nice, so why not give it a shot? 

I began looking at the IUTA website for World Cup races (Florida was one of

them: check). I knew I would need at least 2 more races with strong finishes

to even crack the top 10. Travel abroad was not impossible, but time and

money were limiting factors. Plus I already had committed to Ironman Wisconsin

in September. Could I even make this work logistically?

Mexico jumped out at me because of the triple. I wanted to go beyond the

double, and while Mexico only offered the 1xday triple format (non-continuous

as opposed to continuous), I thought that would be a great format to try

something new. That was the other part of this endeavor - doing new events

outside of my comfort zone, as well as outside of the US.

The triple alone wouldn’t be enough points for a top 10 in the World Cup, so I

looked for another double since it was a format I already had done twice and

had a good feel for. The only race that worked with my schedule was the

Virginia Double Anvil, which would leave only 17 days to recover before Mexico. 

I pitched the idea to my coaches. After they processed it over many drinks, much cursing, and questioning my sanity, they were on board. This would be a new frontier for them as well. We put a training plan in place, and the #trifecta was born.

I followed the plan as closely as my schedule allowed. It paid off in Wisconsin, which went perfectly. As you know, things got out of hand in Virginia. World Cup hopes were out the window after that. But there was still Mexico, which I had identified as my "A" race - it was the big one, the one I really wanted to do well at. To be completely honest, I knew the World Cup points were the longest of long-shots. It would have been cool, but after so many athletes completed the Double Deca in Switzerland, I had no chance.

I knew going into Mexico that making the call to pull from Virginia was the right

move at that time, given the circumstances. The question now was would that

pay off, would I learn from my mistakes? Or was I trying to take on too much in

too short of time? Would I ever talk to Joey again after this madness?!?

Monday - Arrival

We took an early morning flight out of Des Moines, connected in Houston, and

landed in Leon just after 2pm. Alex, the race director’s son, picked us up at the

airport. Fortunately for us, his English was perfect! It was about a 45 minute

drive to Leon proper. The scenery was very interesting. First impressions were:

it’s a beautiful mountainous area, with less-than-beautiful housing. I don’t think

setbacks are a thing in Mexico - all buildings are right up to the pavement, even

on highways.

The closer to town we got, things looked better. We were staying

in a nice hotel close to the race site, and we walked to it after getting unpacked.
It was about a half-mile with only some sidewalks and a worn path only inches away from the 6-lane highway. 

No sooner had we arrived than we saw Laura Knoblach on the course and Jade

Kent-Madders. Laura is an extremely accomplished young woman in ultra

triathlon, and was seeking to set a record for the youngest finisher in the double

deca continuous (that’s 20 times the length of each leg of an iron-distance

triathlon: 48 mile swim, 2,240 mile bike ride, and a 524 mile run). Jade was

there both as crew and medical support. I met her at the Anvil Series of races in the U.S.. I found Beto Villa, the race director, and immediately got familiar with the surroundings and how things would flow on race day. The break down would be as follows: 

7:00am - Hotel shuttle leaves hotel with athletes and crew and drive us to the

park. After arriving, you would retrieve your bike from the racks and walk it up

to the swim start, roughly a ¼ mile away. 

At 8:00am the swim begins, and Transition 1 (T1) would be right there at the

swim exit. There were shelters and picnic tables you could set up your

transition area in. First-come, first-served. 

Transition 2 and the timing mat/finish line would be down near what was

called Tent City. That’s also where the continuous deca and double-deca

athletes would rest during their near month-long endeavor.

Adjacent to Tent City were large tents that housed a full makeshift kitchen and

dining area, complete with refrigerators, freezers, stoves, microwaves, you

name it. Beto’s wife and her sister cooked GREAT homemade food for all

athletes and crew every day. It was reassuring to know that no one would

ever go hungry while on the course. Keep in mind the logistics involved to be

able to pull this off: the Todo Triathlon technically puts on 8 races

simultaneously: Double Deca Continuous, Double Deca 1x20 (daily), Deca

Continuous, Deca 1x10, Quintuple 1x5, Triple 1x3, Double 1x2, and Single

1x1. Due to the format and length of the Double Continuous, they started this

nearly a MONTH ago on October 27th. The longest races start first, and then

us “short-timers” join in much later so the 1x races all finish on the same day (with the exception of the 1x20, they started not long after the continuous Double Deca). 

After getting a layout of the land, we returned to our hotel and went to the
grocery store next door. If you’ve never traveled outside the US, know that
grocery shopping is very different. In the US, we have limitless choices from
dozens of different brands. The selection in Mexico was significantly less.
Among items we could not find: dill pickles, dates, and walnuts. But we did
find turkey slices, chips and crackers, some small Snickers, and plenty of
other items we needed.

Once shopping was done, we wanted to eat out but learned the hard way

that restaurants aren’t open on Mondays. That was a relief, we thought they

had all gone out of business! We did find a pizza place that was open and

had a few cervezas, then called it a night.

Tuesday - Recon and Prep

We decided today was going to be a bit of a dress rehearsal. We woke up at

6am, and prepped as though it was race day. That meant breakfast, getting

gear ready (but not taking it with us), and being downstairs at 6:50 for the

van ride over. We immediately met Juan Contreras, who was doing the

Quintuple (5 days of iron-distance races), as were others in the van, including a few who were doing the Deca (yep, 10 days of 140.6 miles each day)! Juan immediately set a great tone with his personality and humor. He was going solo early, but his family would be arriving the next night (Wednesday), so he had that to look forward to. 

When we got to the race site, lo and behold - there was Michael Ortiz! Jade had

told us the previous day he would be there. I’ve known Michael for almost 2

years now, and for those who don’t know, he has raced or completed on his own a 100-mile run EVERY weekend for 48 consecutive weekends! He was already out running with Laura, while also motivating other competitors. Michael has one of those smiles that you just can’t help but return, and his being there speaks to the selflessness of the ultra community: he took the day off work just to fly down and be on the course with the double deca racers for a few hours. His presence had a positive impact on nearly everyone.

Breakfast was provided, including hard boiled eggs, pancakes, coffee, and fruit.

I watched others and their routines, trying to pick up any little thing that could

help. I was surprised by how many people were eating so close to the swim

start. Then again, no one was going into the swim with ideas on trying to finish

in under an hour. 

Wendy and I walked up to watch the swim start. There we saw Wayne Kurtz and

Rick Freeman, who we formally met in person for the first time the night before.

They both supplied me with great advice on how to handle the start of the bike

course, as well as safety pointers for the course in general. We went back down

to T2/Tent City and checked in on other athletes. I saw Shanda Hill, a tough-as

-nails Canadian who I had heard of but not met yet. While I was there I

decided to get in 2 laps of the run course at an easy pace. The course was

mostly flat: 1k out and 1k back for a total of 1.3 miles, with the return being

slightly uphill.

One thing I was warned of repeatedly were crazy ‘buses’ full of kids that were a

true hazard and had already caused some wrecks. When I say ‘buses’ they

were these wagons similar to what you’d see at a state fair being towed behind

a tractor transporting people around, but smaller. They would make stops

around the park, and sometimes kids would jump off the wrong side, right into

the path of a cyclist. Three athletes already had severe bike accidents because

of this and their races were over, including Zema who I had raced with in Florida,

and Jorge Rodriguez, both of whom were attempting double-decas. Zema

suffered a broken collarbone that required him to fly home to be taken care of

properly. Jorge had severe road rash and severe bruising, and he was staying

around serving as support, crew, and cheer section for anyone who needed it.

There’s another fascinating story about him that I don’t have time to share here.

I’ll just say he’s an incredibly compassionate, selfless, wonderful human being.

Wendy and I walked to a nearby Walmart (yep, even in Mexico) for other things

we needed, such as Gatorade packets and some food items we didn’t find at

our nearby grocery store. After that, I rode my bike back to the park to do one

lap around. I noted the places Wayne and Rick had warned me about, and
made other mental notes about where more potential dangers might be. My
impression of the bike course was that it was mostly flat and fast, with enough turns and corners to keep you focused (as if kids and other pedestrians weren't enough).

As I was waiting to get the timing chip put on my bike, I met Aixa and Jorge,

who would be joining me in the triple. We heard there was a 4th but didn’t

know who it was. I ended up meeting him at the timing chip tent. His name

was Per, and he was from Denmark. He originally came to do the

continuous Deca and THEN try the 1x10. And you all thought I was crazy!

He finished the continuous, but did not finish in time to attempt the 1x10.

He decided to drop to a shorter distance and picked the triple. He was

good friends with Norbert Lu, who had won the 1x20 in Switzerland a few

months earlier and did the continuous Deca with him, and Norbert

decided on just doing the 1x2 (“just”). They were both extremely nice,

which isn’t surprising - there aren’t very many egos in Ultra Triathlon, if

any. Everyone knows it only takes one little thing to ruin your race, so no

one is ever cocky or braggadocious.

I walked back to the hotel, and then walked with Wendy to Walmart once

again looking for epson salts to soak in after each race. Wendy finally

pointed out the obvious: our hotel room did not have a tub to soak in,

only a walk-in shower! So much for that idea. We found a restaurant next

door called VIPS and had a big dinner there. After that we went back to

the hotel, I had my usual race-eve beer, and went to bed. All I needed

was a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow was race day, after all.

Wednesday - Feeling It Out

I woke up just after 6am, and had a great night’s sleep. We had plenty of time to

eat breakfast and get ready before the van departed. While my bike was already

at the site, we still had to carry over swim and run gear, plus our own nutrition for

the day.

We had a slightly more crowded van with us triples cramming in. When I saw

Juan, it was obvious he was tired. He had a tough Day 2, and he still had 3 to

go. At least his family arrived today, so they would boost his spirits. At Tent

City, things were quiet and calm, easily the calmest of the 3 days. I checked

my bike tires and we headed up to the swim start. The water was calm and

flat. There’s a school nearby, and their bell rings at 7:50, which is a perfect

‘final call’ for athletes to get down near the water. We posed for a picture,

Beto counted us down, and my race was officially underway.

“Just an easy day, like Ironman Wisconsin,” I told myself. “No one else

matters. Steady strokes, nothing crazy, there’s 2 more to do after this.”

Even though I was going at a steady pace, I got out to the lead quickly. My

initial thought was “Wow,” then I quickly reminded myself that most of the other

participants were on their 3rd or 8th day, so that had to be taken into

consideration. Still, someone passed me as we started lap 2. I didn’t mind, it

was someone to draft off of for a bit. He would eventually pull away, but was

never more than a minute ahead. The rest of the swim I had no issues, and

was the second one out of the water in 1 hour and 11 minutes, which was

slightly faster than my Ironman Wisconsin time.

I had a pretty quick T1, and headed out on the bike. Before the first full lap, you have to go ‘backwards’ about 1 mile, then turn around and when you cross the timing mat, that’s when you start your first of 25 laps. I reminded myself on the first lap to be cautious and mindful of all the warnings I had received. The first one went easy, and I started to get comfortable and cruise along. Sure enough, throughout the day, the obstacles started popping up randomly with no warnings: geese in the middle of the path, daring you to run over them; goats coming out to graze, just inches off the path. The good news is there were hardly any kids out though. I still had to be mindful, as it was a very popular park and there were other cyclists, pedestrians, roller-bladers out using it.

I ate and drank following the same schedule I had in Wisconsin. Everything was

almost identical to that race so far, including my bike split. I got done with the

25 laps in 6 hours and 4 minutes, which was 8 minutes faster than IMWI. I felt

great. So far my first day had been flawless, and now it was time to do what I

do best.

The run was warm to start with temperatures in the low 80s. I knew I’d go out

fast, and sure enough - just like IMWI - my first two miles were both sub 9.

Wendy was reporting back to Coaches Lauren and Ebe, and unsurprisingly

word got back to me quickly: “Chill out!” I did as I was told, knowing I had to

keep my legs fresh for two more marathons over the next two days. 

You need a little luck to go your way in thee races, and I got some during the
run. Wendy told me that my rear tire blew out suddenly for no reason. She
took it back to the on-site bike tech, and he discovered that the rim tape had
somehow slid to the side, resulting in the tube blowing out. He re-positioned
the tape, added another layer, and replaced the blown tub with my spare. The
good news was it didn't happen out on the course. The bad news was I didn't
have another spare tube with me. I would need that good luck to continue,
since I was also told that flats were far too common on this course for some
reason.

On the run course, a little bit of strategy was playing out among the four of

us. It was unspoken but we all knew it. Per had finished the bike first and

was just under a lap ahead of me. Aixa came off the bike not too long after

me, but indicated early on that she was going to be following a run/walk

schedule. She was moving well when she was running, though, and was

not to be taken lightly as she was very formidable on the bike. Jorge was

not far behind Aixa, and he had the lean look of a fast runner also. It was

fun and exciting, seeing it all play out. We all had to do 20 laps on an out-

and-back course, which made it easy to see where we all were relative to

each other.

My plan was to run the first 20 miles and see how things felt. I felt I was

executing everything well. I had “chilled out” as instructed, but never let up

on Per. He was a lot of fun on the run. We almost always high-fived each

other with a joke or comment at each passing. At one point I was closing in

on him and he knew it: he jokingly asked me to slow down. I told him I

would when he did. He would beat me to the finish by less than one lap,

roughly 10 minutes.

Per and I apparently also incurred the wrath of the weather gods. We were

making comments about the heat and both openly rooting for rain. We got

our wish, and then some. The clouds opened up and let us have all the rain

we needed for a good 45 minutes. Some people stopped for jackets. Per

and I and a few others just kept on running and smiling, but after 45 minutes

we both agreed that we’d had enough. The weather took mercy on us and

dialed it back. Now we had to beat the oncoming cold that would come

when the sun set, especially since we were drenched.

I probably could have caught Per at the end if not for my first experience

with dehydration. I stopped to pee at Mile 20 and my urine was dark red. It

alarmed me because it had never happened to me before. I told Jade and

she instantly knew what was going on. She said it was not the heat so much,

but rather being close to the equator. She had seen it several times in the

previous week alone, and wasn’t alarmed. She gave me her own electrolyte

mix with instructions to drink a bottle every lap until I finished. It worked. My

urine was starting to return to a more normal color by the time I had finished

running, which was 4 hours and 42 minutes. 

That gave me a solid Day 1 time of 12:10:38, which was slightly faster than

I had planned. I got a painful/wonderful massage afterward, and was also

fortunate enough to see the winner of the continuous Double Deca cross

the line and offer him my congrats. After that, it was a quick ride back to the

hotel. I showered, used the recovery boots in addition to a portable

massager Sandy Bowman had lent me. We were in bed by 10:15pm. Day 1

was behind me. I just had to hope for another good night’s sleep before

Day 2.

Thursday - Stay Steady

I slept great. We had a routine now and I gave myself an extra 10 minutes,

getting out of bed at 6:10am. I felt excellent. I told myself mentally the same

thing I did the day before: “It’s just a regular race day,” and that helped keep

me calm and not over-think anything. The best part was I didn’t feel sore or

worn down anywhere. I was ready to do it all again. 

We met the usual gang at the van just before 7am, and were now joined by the

double athletes. A bit more of a cozy ride over. Juan did not look well.

His family had arrived, but he had a long night. He was still out on the bike

when the rain came, and he didn’t have a great run either. I wished him luck

and hoped for a better Day 4 for him.

3… 2… 1… and we were off again at exactly 8am. I fully expected one of the

new double athletes to take the lead, but Day 2’s swim went exactly the same

as the day before. I led the first lap, got passed on the second, and was 2nd

out of the water. My arms felt a little tired though, likely due to swimming in a

full-sleeved wetsuit two days in a row, which is not common for me. Plus I tend

to swim in sleeveless wetsuits, but I was otherwise enjoying my new Roka.

Time was 1 hour and 13 minutes, only slightly slower than the day before.

Getting on the bike again, I reminded myself that this was the day to be

conservative on the bike. Good thing too, because it was more crowded and

busy than the day before. More buses with kids throughout the day, and I

avoided all of them. However, my day came close to being ruined when I

almost wiped out 500 feet from the end of the bike course.  An idiot decided

to cross just below the crest of the hill where we all descend back to Tent

City/T2. I had to hit the brakes so hard, I was worried about damaging my

rear tire. Luckily I just skidded a bit, and scared the shit out of that moron

who crossed when he shouldn’t have (or at least LOOKED UP).

While on the bike I knew I had to hydrate better due to the previous day’s

scare, and Jade told me to drink a bottle every lap on the bike. I tried, but

was only getting a bottle down every 1.5 laps, which was still better than

the previous day. That was good, but I also thought it was odd that I didn’t

feel the urge to pee until after 55 miles. Since I was drinking more, I

should be going more. But I only went three times, all between miles 55

and 112. Wendy was doing a great job making sure I was drinking and

eating. She had quickly figured out the food schedule that the race staff

provided, and had all varieties of food ready for me at least once an hour.

She was giving me probably close to 300 calories an hour, plus Juan had

donated some Skratch he had left over. When she had food ready I would

pull over to our makeshift transition 2 area, quickly eat, then head back

out again. In total, the stops would add about 20 minutes to the ride, but

it was working. I still was off the bike in 6 hours and 25 minutes.

When I started the run I felt great once again. I made an effort to average slightly

slower at the beginning than I had on Wednesday, but still planned on running

through mile 20 and re-evaluating. My pace was solid, but Per destroyed the

bike portion that day and already had about a 1 hour lead on me.

We still joked again, we asked for rain again, and got our wish again! I was loving it. Per and

I were maybe the only ones who did though. Others put on parkas and jackets,

I even saw umbrellas out. I just stayed with my trisuit. I laughed when Wendy

offered me a poncho - I was already soaked, so what was the point? The rain

was coming down much harder than the day before, and it lasted at least an

hour which is rare for the area. 

After the rain let up, Shanda Hill - another badass woman out doing the double

deca - was joking around about wearing too many clothes. Apparently she even

flashed someone! I was about to pass her at the far end of the course and we

started joking about it. She has the same sense of humor I do, and by the time

I had passed her, there were briefly two partial moons out on the run course

while it was still daylight ;) Hey, these are freakin' ultra triathlons - we have to

do SOMETHING to keep the mood light (not moon light)!

At mile 10 my urine was dark again. At least this time I knew what it was and

how to deal with it: I slowed down, and kept drinking electrolytes. My legs were

still feeling good, and it showed: my run was 5 minutes faster than the day

before. My overall time was only 20 minutes slower, with a total of 12:34:19.

Per preserved his one hour lead, and by the end of the night we were all pretty

firmly entrenched in our positions heading into Day 3. 

We got back to the hotel slightly earlier, which was good - more time to shower

and use the recovery boots. As I went to bed that night it was hard not to feel

excited. I was just one day away from finishing something huge.

Friday - Just Finish

I had another great night’s sleep. When I woke up, it was a weird feeling. On

the one hand, I couldn’t believe this was happening. On the other, it felt a bit

like the movie Groundhog Day. “Just another race day” was my calming

mantra, and it still worked. But deep down I knew this wasn’t “just another.”

This could be an epic day. All I had to do was finish. I could take it easy all

day, do whatever my body allowed me to do. I didn’t even care what place I

came in. If I needed 17 hours to finish (even though ultras give you 24) then

that’s what it would take. Today was going to be a bit of a celebration out on

the course throughout the day.

We were joined in the van by people racing only a single 140.6, so we were

even more crowded. At the swim start I made a change and decided to go with my sleeveless wetsuit. It was about 56 degrees at the swim start, and I was getting asked about the cold. To be honest, I figured the gang from the Netherlands would be practically skinny dipping, but they were all decked out in full sleeved suits also. Beat Knechtle (first name is pronounced BE-yaht) from Switzerland has completed over 250 iron-distances in ultra-triathlon alone. He noticed my sleeveless suit, asked if I was crazy, and said I was the true Ironman that morning. He also pointed out that my nipple was sticking out the side as we posed for our group photo. Beat was another highlight of the week, clearly.

At 8am we were off one last time. I didn’t care about leading the first lap on

the swim today, but it was a good thing I did. My visibility was awful because

somehow I ended up with Bag Balm (which is an anti-chafing lube) inside

my goggles. It had smeared and I couldn’t see very well. I stopped after lap

1 to try to clean them, but that only made it worse. I had to completely stop

and call out to Wendy who had the backup pair ready. That cost me a minute

or two and dropped me from 2nd to 3rd in the swim. I didn’t care in the least.

I was thrilled to be seeing clearly, which meant safely, and nothing mattered more

today than finishing safely. Even with the goggle snafu, my swim time

was 1:16. Beat was so smooth and steady, he beat me by a few seconds

out of the water. Keep in mind this was his Day 10 - what an amazing

individual. I just had to shake his hand when we exited the water together.

I gave Wendy a kiss and got on the bike having no idea how things would feel.

This was all new territory for me, and the bike has always been my weakest

discipline. My plan was to aim for a 7 hour ride. I had strict orders from

coaches with reinforcement by Wendy and Jade to drink, drink, drink, and

eat. So I did. I drank one bottle every lap (approximately 16-17 minutes). I

peed right away on the first lap, which was great because the day before it

took almost 3 hours to go the first time. I did such a good job drinking every

lap, I kept peeing every lap! That was fine with me, it meant that I’d be plenty

hydrated for the run. As for food and refueling, I first stopped every two laps,

then every 3, and we finally figured out a system where I’d only stop every 4.

David Seres - who I met at the Florida race and somehow missed entirely at

Virginia - showed up with more Skratch. It was great to see him. He also did

a McDonalds run and brought back hamburgers! Wendy did an outstanding

job switching up everything drinking: Powerade, Gatorade, electrolyte drink,

and Skratch. She had food for me every hour. We had this thing figured out:

it was just a matter of surviving, and I don’t say that lightly.

Take Juan as an example. On one of my stops I saw him: his race was over.

He wasn’t able to finish his Day 4. When I came through on one of my stops,

he told me that the heaviest rains came while he was still on the bike, and

mud started to cover parts of the bike path. He had slowed considerably,

and by the time he got off the bike, his daughters knew he looked bad. Juan

recognized that, and called his race right then and there. I told him I knew

that feeling, having gone through a similar experience in Virginia. I thanked

him for being an inspiration, and reminded him that he made the right

choice, and that sometimes the ones that seem like they made be hard

ones to make really aren’t that difficult at all. Especially when it comes to

family.

I got back out on the course after that brief chat, and it was the most dangerous

day on the bike by far: those ‘buses’ I mentioned earlier were everywhere,

carting loads of kids all around the park, which led to big crowds of kids running

blindly every which way. I had to slow down every time I came near a group

of them. There were also crews out cleaning up the park, trimming branches

and clearing weeds,, but at least they paid attention. The only downside was

weed trimmings on the bike path, but they cleaned it up quickly.

I relaxed and chatted with the most amount of people on the bike today:

Michelle, who I had competed in my first ultra with in Florida two years ago.

She was doing the quintuple, and this was her final day also. Norbert Lu - who

won the Double Deca in Switzerland a few months earlier - slowed down to

ride side-by-side with me and have a discussion about the day. That was

cool - he’s phenomenal at ultras. To talk ride strategy with him for a few

minutes was very humbling. Aixa had stopped earlier and I slowed to made

sure she was OK. She was having some tightness in her quads, and I told

her to stop by Wendy and get some icy balm I had brought. Michelle would

flat later, and I stopped to turn around and made sure she was also OK. 

I made a lot of stops, but was in no hurry. I allowed myself to soak the

experience in (when it was safe to do so). At one moment, I thought about

what I was doing, what I was accomplishing. I was in Mexico, doing an

international Ultra triathlon. Not just any, but a TRIPLE. And I was doing

well! I thought back to a year earlier, when I had e-mailed my Grammy and

told her I was dedicating my race season to her. I got emotional. She

passed away this spring, and then it hit me that she was very likely looking

over me. My luck may not have been luck at all, but a guardian angel

making sure that my final race of the year was not going to end badly.

I thought about a lot of people during those last 25 laps around the park. I

thought about my family, of course. I thought about my first triathlon, and I

thought of all the people I’ve met through racing along the way. I thought of

people I’ve trained with, and people who helped me get to this point, to this

moment. If you’re reading this, odds are I thought of you.

When the emotions subsided, some pain started to return. After all, this is

still a 140.6 triathlon, and things hurt. Everything hurt more than yesterday:

my neck and back were the worst at times, sometimes the neck pain being

as high as 9 on the 10 scale. But the laps kept melting away, and I knew that

the pain would disappear as soon as I started running.

I kept an eye on the clock because you have to do something for 25 laps,

and suddenly realized that I could beat yesterday’s bike split. The slight risk

was I’d have to open it up for the final 2 laps. “What the hell, that would be

cool,” I thought to myself. So I went for it, and my legs responded positively.

The whole day my 5-miles splits were averaging around 17 minutes; I got the

last two down to about 15, and missed equaling Thursday’s ride by only 90

seconds. It felt great to still have that kind of power left in my biking legs

after 3 days.

One last marathon to go, and it started off tough. I broke it down like I always

do: see how the first 10k go, then re-evaluate and see if I can run to 20. It was

the hottest day yet, and rain wouldn’t come for at least 2 hours. My pacing

was good, right about 10 minute miles. I stopped early to have Jade tape my

knees, which helped me stay in a good rhythm early. My legs felt great and surprisingly powerful.

About mile 10 Wendy offered me a hot dog which tasted great. A bit later though, that hot dog combined with all the drinking on the bike turned into a major GI issue, which unfortunately would be the story for the rest of the run. I took some Tums, it was too late. It was the worst my gut had ever felt during a run. There’s a saying in distance running: “Never trust a fart.” It’s funny, gross, and true. I had to make more pit stops than in any other race, about every 25 minutes, sometimes more. I couldn’t get back into a consistent rhythm, it was too much stop-and-go. Per was slowing down and finally taking it easy, but I couldn’t take advantage. He had beat me off the bike again by about another hour. I gained a lap back from him early, but gave it back later on another prolonged bathroom break. 

The last run was my only minor disappointment from a performance

perspective: I had done the math in my head and coming off the bike I knew

a sub-13 finish was entirely possible, I just needed a marathon under 5 hours

which was totally doable. When I realized around mile 18 that wasn’t going to

happen, I was completely OK with it. I slowed down and again savored it. I

asked Wendy to walk a lap with me at mile 19, then I ran until mile 24 with

two laps remaining. I asked her to walk with me on the second to last lap,

and thanked her for all she’s sacrificed to allow me to pursue this and my

other crazy endeavors. I also got a lot of emotions out on that lap so I

wasn’t a blubbery mess when I crossed the finish!

I ran the final mile, with my legs feeling strong even at the end. I heard the

music they were playing for me ("Where The Streets Have No Name") and

brought it home. I finished the triple ultra, 3 iron-distance races in 3 days.

What a welcome. Hugs came from so many people besides Wendy:

fellow participants, other racers’ crews, the race staff, even spectators.

Per was so great, he and Norbert both stuck around to see me finish. I

really can’t say enough good things about them. The race wouldn’t have

been as enjoyable without Per to have fun with on the run. Beto gave me

a bottle of champagne to pop open and take some celebratory sips from.

It was wonderful. I felt fantastic, but it also felt like a dream. It was surreal.

Then Jade sprung the news on me: Per and I had both broken the previous

world record for a 1x3 ultra. The previous record was 40 hours, 30 minutes. I

beat it by over two hours with a total time of 38 hours, 5 minutes and 51

seconds, while Per easily set the new one finishing just under 36 hours!

Pretty incredible. Then again, he had already done the continuous deca a

few weeks earlier, so he was in plenty good shape to do a triple! He also

admitted to me after that he had intended to break the world record all

along, but not by so much until I showed up! I thanked him and told him he

made the race fun. His response was, "You made the race HARD!" Another

great line from a great competitor.

It was a moment I didn’t want to end. I almost felt like I was floating. Laura

came through on one of her hundreds of laps, and I walked with her. I

intended it to be brief, to give her some thanks and encouragement. It

ended up turning into a bit of a victory lap. I talked with everyone else who

was still on the course: Daniel and Al, who were also doing the double

deca; Javier, who was doing his first triathlon EVER and it was a 140.6;

David, who was older than I was but had a smile just as big. 

I could go on and say something about every single participant. Kristian,
Bernhard, Georgeta, Claire, all of them. That’s the best thing about the
ultra triathlon community. We are all family. It’s not an exaggeration or
hyperbole. You get to know everyone’s name and a little bit about them.
Everyone roots for each other, pulls for each other, and at times we

carry each other emotionally. We’re all united by this bond that we know

makes us weird and crazy, both suffering together and celebrating each

other. These are tough but wonderful races, taken on by some of the

toughest and most beautiful people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.

I would have loved to have stayed the rest of the night and cheered all of

them in to their finish. But 3 days does take a bit of wear, and I was looking

forward to sleeping in the next day.

As for what’s next, I don’t know for sure. I know I’m probably going to take

a year off from ultras since Kaitlynn is going to be a senior next year, and I

don’t want to miss any of her senior year activities. Training for these takes

a huge amount of time - mostly on weekends - and Wendy deserves to

have me around more. 

I can say this, though: I know I’m capable of more. How much more remains

to be seen, but since finishing, I haven’t had any negative twitches, twinges,

muscle spasms, or anything. I didn’t even get a single blister! The worst thing

I ended up with was awful-looking race tan-lines. The fact that I came out of

it unscathed is a tribute to my coaches Ebe and Lauren of TCE Multisport, to

Wendy for making sure I was eating and drinking, and Jade who was keeping

an eye on Wendy keeping an eye on me.

I also need to acknowledge Kyle and the entire staff of Kyle’s Bikes who have

kept Phoenix (my bike) in excellent condition, even after the nasty spill I took

back in May; Matt Zepeda with Zoom Performance, who has been an

excellent swim coach [in addition to being another great tri coach] and continued to provide me with additional advice and

suggestions; Sandy Bowman at Healthsource, who helped me with my neck

and shoulder pain and provided the portable massager; Kathy Haage, who is

not only a great neighbor but is an outstanding massage therapist to boot.

Extra special thanks to my sister-in-law Vicki, who flew out from San Jose to

look after Phoebe while Kaitlynn was busy with all her high school activities.

I also need to thank everyone who’s ever cheered me on, said an encouraging

comment, raced with me, trained with me, offered advice, or has done so for

others. We all need encouragement in our lives. You never know what someone

else is going through. We wear facades sometimes to mask pain or discomfort,

but that’s not why you always see me smiling during races. That smile is almost

always genuine. I’m so fortunate to do something I love, I want to share and

express that feeling out on the course. During races we all have our dark

moments, and I hope my smile and a thumbs-up brings someone out of that

dark place, even for a few seconds. If I’ve ever inspired you, I ask that you do

me this one thing: smile at someone today. It’s a bonus if you smile at someone

who looks like they need one. It may not sound like much, but you could end up

being the best part of their day just by doing that little thing. 

Thanks for doing that, and thanks for letting me share another race story

with you.

#trifectacomplete

#fornow...