Worlds and Cozumel without an ACL

So after Cancun, I had 6 weeks to get ready for the World Championships 70.3. In Cancun, I had resigned to the fact that the Worlds was all about getting in...and I would go to enjoyt it - every minute of it. No stress. No performance anxiety. Just take it all in. Hang out with the best triathletes in the world. That goal changed when the Cancun slot rolled down. The new goal was, "Can I go sub-5 hours?"

Well that all ended on the beach in Siesta Key, FL.

Finally feeling 100% healthy, I entered the Siesta Key Sprint Triathlon with a new jump in my step. I absolutely KILLED the 800 meter swim; finishing in 13 minutes. I averaged 24 mph on the 14 mile bike and ran the 5K in under 23 minutes. That was good for a 3rd place in my AG and a podium finish.

I went out to run with Mel on the beach...Felt great for the first mile and then out of no where..."POP" goes the weasel. I know the feeling. My knee buckled and some meniscus came loose. That is usually followed by stiffness and swelling. My knee was toast.

I came home, found a great Orthopod, underwent an MRI and confirmed that in addition to my severed ACL (which I did in 1992 and never fixed) I had a inoperable meniscus tear and early onslaught of arthitis. Dr. Mehalik confirmed that I need reconstructive surgery but racing in Worlds and in Cozumel would not do more damage to my knee. Doc was clear that it is as bad as it gets in terms of ligament and meniscus damage and overall instability of my knee.

So I took a cortisone shot and limped in to Worlds. I added significant volume to my swimming and some hard core biking leading up to the race. I limited my running to a few tempos and 1 long run. Not enough to get to sub-5 hours in Clearwater.

In Clearwater, I had an awesome time with the family and the Bartons. T-Bart promised to travel to Clearwater if I ever made it to Worlds and there he was. We had an awesome Suite at the Hyatt and had a festive two days of hanging out, eating and laughing prior to the race. One set-back was that I got "sea-sick" in a pre-race swim so I panicked a bit the night before; but Yolanda recommended these Acu-pressure bands and they worked perfectly!

There I was the night before, tossing and turning with the "fake sleep" and the anticipatory anxiety. My first worry was whether I would turn up limp on the run...that fear was compounded by the sea-sicknesses which never happened on race day. T-Bart also recommended some Pepto and that also worked fabulously.

Race day was incredible. The fastest triathletes in the world. I woke up on race morning and finally surrendered to the race, the competitors and the atmosphere. I actually entered "Cloud 9" on the beach before the gun. No body fat on anyone. No one seemed anxious. Just a bunch of men and women who looked ready to attack! All business.

The gun goes. I didn't site well. My goggles fogged. It was very rough but I got through it. 34 minutes and change. Not my best. But no sea-sickness. The next goal was to crush the bike. I was excited to try to beat my 21.1 mph in Cancun. I nailed it with a 21.3 mph. That was great considering the two big bridges we faced and a pretty strong head wind at times. I was struck on the bike by all the drafting and some terrible accidents that involved back boards and ambulances. I couldn't believe how fast life could change with one pot hole or gust of wind.

My bike race ended with fascination. I can not believe there are 2,000 people who are faster than me on the bike. I podium in local races. I am dedicated to my trainer sessions and long rides. I got CRUSHED on the bike. I felt like I was standing still. I have a lot of work to do.

I get in at 3:15 and know that I have NO shot at a sub-5. I never really had a chance. So off I go on the run. First loop the knee felt fine. A bit stiff but no stability issues and no pain. Second loop I ran in to Jason Gunter and ran with him for about a mile. He was shadowed all day by the NBC crew which was super-cool. I knew I had Cozumel with him two weeks later so we chatted about how we felt and how much we would conserve for Cozumel.

The day went by way too fast. It was one of those races where I did not want it to end. Every mile felt like a gift. The conditions were incredible. No humidity. Mid-70s. Just perfect. I accepted the mess with my knee. I was grateful that I made it in after all my hard work and the challenges from this summer. I marveled at the fact that my parents and Mel and JJ got to see me race for the first time and experienced all the hoopla. I was overwhelmed at "Ironprayer" the day before and grateful that I could experience that with Mel, T-Bart and Dad. I loved that I got through the anxiety of the week and I finished strong in 5:18. My cardio was incredible and it gave me confidence for a strong Cozumel.

There were some more "Murphy's Law" moments leading up to Cozumel. Mel's mom calls and cancels her trip to Fort Myers. Mel will not be with me in Cozumel. Apparently Mom's cat is on his last legs and it would not be right for Mom to travel. Then, the day before I am supposed to leave, I have a mix-up with Mel and my passport is locked in the Northern Trust vault. Packet pick-up ends on Friday @ 6 PM. The soonest I can get in to Cozumel is 2 PM on SATURDAY. Then, a stomach bug hits Mel and I...

Oh great...Mexico, stomach flu, late check in, Mexican bike mechanics...This doesn't look good.

I text Jason the news. I didn't want to alarm him but he should know what I am dealing with. I was planning to be the "Sherpa" and help in the event of any mechanical issues. I wanted to provide moral support as he dealt with his demons from his DNF in Kona 400 days earlier. I wanted to be there at the finish for his moment of Glory.

So after much tossing and turning, dealing with the stomach virus and celebrating my wedding Anniversary (5 years) on Friday...I depart on Saturday and everything is fine. Flights are on time and my bike gets there. The hotel is great. Incredible service. I cab it to T-1 and the mechanic puts my bike together. There is an issue with my timing chip and I don't receive any Race Schwag but I can deal with all that.

That night we meet an elite athlete and coach - John Reiker from Chicago. He is calm, cool and collected. He wants to go 9:25 on Sunday and qualify for Kona (he was a DNF on Sunday due to the heat). Jason and I go over our race day strategy. Patience on the swim. Methodical on the bike. Heat Management on the run. We learn from John that the forecast is for heat and calm winds. This works for me but scares Jason. Heat is his cryptonite.

As part of my pre-race ritual, I attempt to find a church and Vigil mass. I find one in the hood of Cozumel and it is in Spanish. I understand some of the prayers, songs and ritual. I pray hard. I am a mess. Nerves. I never pray for race times or good performances: always for safety, perspective, strength and conviction.

Back to the hotel. Fake sleep on Saturday night. I go to bed @ 9 and toss and turn. 10 Pm. 11 PM. 12 midnight. 1 AM...then its fear and anger. "Please God - I need my sleep..."How do I complete an Ironman with no sleep????" The mind is so powerful. Sanity is often so elusive.

Race morning. My stomach is still not right. I force down some toast, a banana, protein bar and some coke. I meet Jason and we head to transition. This is a cool area that feels like a jungle. I get set up with my uncrustables...I fill my tires. Re-body-marked. I am ready. Jason is ready. He seems so calm.

The pros go. We jump in the water. We're like caged animals. The gun goes and I am immediately at peace. Patience. Patience. Find clear water. Long, slow strokes. I am swimming at a "forever pace." I get through the first 600 and feel great. I turn back but don't feel the expected "down" current. I swim smooth, site well and stay calm.

At about 45 minutes, I start to struggle a bit. I start to sense that this is not going to be a sub-hour swim as I had hoped. The stroke gets short and I start to tire. But I get through it. I get out in 1:04 and I am nauseous. Not motion sick. Just nauseous from the stomach bug. I force down some water and gatorade and wait for Jason.

Jason crushes the swim in 1:14. We meet in transition and off we go. It was HOT. Hot @ 8 AM - Like 85 with 95% humidity and no wind. We get out on the bike course and follow our plan. I meet some great people!!! Patience. Methodical. Focus on heat management. We stay at 18 MPH for the first 20 miles...My right aero pad was loose and I had to fix it but overall, the bike was uneventful. The stomach issues soon passed. Jason was hurting a bit by mile 60-70, but overall, we were on our plan. He was gonna finish his first Ironman!!!

What a beautiful bike course. The most beautiful bike course I have ever experienced. 3 loops. 12 miles of drab nothingness, 13 miles of beautiful ocean front cycling and 12 miles with a tail wind heading into town...The town-people were inspirational. Absolutely amazing. They made us feel like rock stars.

We get in to T-2 @ 8:30 which feels great. That means we can transition and run an 8 hour marathon and be fine. I never thought we would need it but we did. Jason was REALLY hurting at the end of the bike course. He was sick from the heat and the liquid nutrition.

We get out on the run. The sun was going down thank God. We are doing 15 minute miles...Not good. But not terrible. Still in position for a strong finish. Jason puked at Mile 2 but felt better. If the crowd thought we were rock stars, they thought Jason was the Messiah. Here's a guy with one leg and one arm who was about to finish a 140 mile Ironman. Unfathomable.

The chant was "Si Se Puede" - Yes you can! We were starting to feel it. It was very tough to go that slow and mentally think, "my God we are going to be out here another 6-7 hours"...but steady as she goes!!!

We met up with Pepe from Mexico City who advised us to go with a 6 minute run / 1 minute walk system. That worked for a while. Moreno from Torrino, Italy met up with us at mile 20. He was in a Speedo and un-phased. Craig from Australia stayed with us for 15 miles but was hurting bad. The whole thing felt like an out of body experience.

My stomach was shot at Mile 5. I tried coke and pretzels but by then, the pretzels were stale and the coke wasn't doing it for me. I was drenching Jason in cold water to keep his body tempt down...but I was shivering uncontrollably. He took over 15 salt pills on the "run" - I just wanted to be done. But we had Mile 23 @ Kona "haunting" us every step of the way. I also didn't know if my knee was gonna buckle. It seems that the slower I run, the greater the chance of a "buckle". I had a brace by my knee felt loose.

We finished in 16:16. Jason's wife Loree was there for the last mile. She was so calm yet fired up that we were gonna finish. She has such a cool aura. Calm. Cool. Collected. No words could describe the elation at the finish line. The atmosphere was electric. I felt like I was in the Tour De France, Superbowl and a U2 Concert at the same time.

"Jason Gunter and John Gamba from USA; It is my distinct honor to say to you both...YOU ARE AN IRONMAN"

Si Se Puede!!!

YES I Can-Cun!

So qualifying for the World Championships came down to Ironman 70.3 Cancun. The Spring 2010 training and race season went well with solid performances @ New Orleans and Ironman St. George. Those races set me me up perfectly for the "race of my life" in Cancun.

Then, Murphy's Law...

It started with some weird stomach virus that forced me to take a week off in early June...I lost 10 pounds and literally didn't eat anything for 7 days. Finally recovered, I headed north to drop JJ off at camp and managed to put my elbow through a glass table at a Bike Store in Richmond, VA. This required 4 stitches. Then, there was a severe case of Strep Throat that I caught on July 4th in Ocean City, NJ. This required 3 trips to Urgent care and 4 rounds of antibiotics, steroids and inhalers to knock out the bacteria and build back my lung capacity. Then there was a Levaquin (antibiotic) scare where I mysteriously tore my right calf muscle on an LSD training run.

Not to mention the economy sucks, the family businesses are struggling and Baby Ben recently entered his terrible twos. Never a dull moment!

So - I was obviously NOT 100% entering Mexico for Ironman 70.3 Cancun in mid-September. I was gimpy with calf pain and officially had viral pneumonia on race morning. Wasn't Cancun the official incubator for Swine Flu in 2009??? Nice!

What else could go wrong? Well the day before the race, I brought my bike case to the mechanics for assembly. Low and behold...they were gone. Only in Mexico. The Program says they would be there from 10 Noon to 5 PM. It's 2 PM and they were now where to be seen. Panicked, I asked a diminutive security guard to hold my bike as I tried to put it together. Ninety minutes go by. It was 96 degrees outside the Expo. I am drenched, coughing, hungry and thirsty.

So Pepe spoke no English and just sat there patiently holding the bike as I cut my hands on the chain and stripped two bolts in my aero bars. You really can't make this stuff up. We finally got it together and I rushed to transition to park my bike. Of course, I broke my back bottle cage on the transport bus...so I had nothing to hold my water bottles. That's okay because race day averaged 93 degrees and 95% humidity. Who needs liquid nutrition?

So on race day morning, after another night of fake sleep, I take my medicine (albuturol, symbosis, steroids, antibiotics, Flonase and ibuprofren) and head to race start. International racing is a trip. No one knows where to go and no one likes Americans. This was "Viva Mexico" and Mexican rules all the way.

Gun blasts and I am off. First 800 meters of the swim were solid but the salt air and heightened heart rate started to get the best of me...I was laboring with my breathing...A little panic but all in all, a solid first half. I missed the far buoy and lost a minute...but the second half was down-current and I flew.

I get out in just over 31 minutes which is my best swim for a half Ironman. It was a 500 meter run to transition which was tough...but I had a GREAT spot and was out on the bike course in no time.

The Cancun bike course was Booooorrrriiinnnggg!!! Through the back bush land. But it was fast. It started with a 15 mile straight course with a tail wind and then 13 back into the wind ... double loop. There was HEAVY drafting...Big packs heading into the wind and no officials to regulate the cheating. As Coach Angie warned, "you have to draft or you are toast"...I tried here and there for a few miles but I am just NOT into drafting. It's more fear of crashing vs. fear of being penalized. I had fun dumping water on competitors who tried to draft off of me.

My goal was to average 21 mph. If I could do this and then a sub-2 hour half marathon, I would have a shot at qualifying for Worlds...At 45 miles, the clouds opened and there was a torential down-pour...and this was into the wind. I couldn't see anything and my speed decreased to 18 mph...

But, I rolled into T-2 @ 2:39 which is 21 mph on the BUTTON. Unfortunately, my Newtons and socks were "floating" about 5 feet from my bike slot. It was a flood in T-2. As I laced em up, the sun came back out and the black-top was "steaming" - It was surreal.

I noticed in T-2, that there were 10 bikes on my rack...which meant I was in 10th place. I knew that there would be 4-6 slots for Worlds with a few roll-downs...I had a shot...First mile was about 8:15. Not good. I was in trouble early. The sun was blazing and the roads were jet black. No wind. Official temp. was 93. I was getting passed by 1, then 2 and then 3 40-44 year olds...My hopes were fading. Is it possible I was so good on the bike but would choke on the run?

Thank God for the volunteers and aid stations. They were at every kilometer...I dumped water on my head and drank at every station. At about Mile 3, I started to have a feeling that walking was a possibility...But then at Mile 7, after the turn around, I got a second wind. I started sensing that more people were slowing down and I could pick em off. I saw 5 competitors passed out cold on the side of the rode. They were toast.

Maybe the summer training in Fort Myers would pay off.

I felt strong at Mile 10 and sped up. No chance I would walk. I passed 1, then 2, then 3 4o year olds. Every time I passed them, I tried to pass them with authority to break their heart. At Mile 12, I passed a 41 year old "wobbler" who was in trouble. I calculated that I was probably in 14th place in my age.

I then caught a Mexican guy just before Mile 13 and I said, "let's do this"...I sprinted. He sprinted. He dropped me like a bad habit. I asked him if he was trying to qualify for Worlds and he said "yes - but we have no shot." Not good. Running through the finish, I felt let down. I felt good that I finished and good that I nailed the Swim and Bike. I felt good that I dealt with injury, pain and sickness and didn't flagger out. But I ran a 2:06 half marathon which is lame for me...a runner by nature with a 1:34 PR. Five months earlier, I went 1:52 in a hot New Orleans run venue.

Total time was 5:26. My goal was 5:10 - which would have been 6th place.

Turns out, I finished 13 out of 133 in my age group. Good but probably not good enough.

Then, the fun begins. I go to the awards assembly and learn that due to the number in my AG, they are letting 6 go to Worlds instead of 4. I then learn that only 2 of the first 6 finishers took the slot. So now I have to wait for the awards and then they start the roll-down. That means there are 6 guys in front of me for 4 slots. The first 3 go immediately. Then they call the 10th place guy...Not there. 11th place....NOT THERE. OMG. They call the 12th place guy and it was like slow motion...An eternity - "Please God - Call my name..." Then, it happened - "In 13th place, John Gamba from USA, are you here"....YES, YES, YES...I am here!!!

I'm in. I made it to the World Championships. I'm hyperventilating...Despite the pneumonia, bike woes, torn calf, hot conditions, tough competition, lack of sleep, lack of food, I make it in. I am going to the Worlds in Clearwater!!!! Frantically, I call Mel, call T-bart, text everyone I can think of..."I am going to Worlds"...I am going to compete against the best triathletes in the world!!! That was the best night sleep ever!!!

Yes I can!!!

New Orleans 70.3 and Ironman St. George

This is a post of paradoxes. Elation and disappointment. Hope and humility. Achievement and failure.

On April 18th, I returned to race Ironman 70.3 New Orleans. My goal was to improve on last year's 5:28 time. This after an injury-free base and build training season this Winter. All was good with strong prep races at the Naples Half, Disney Half and the Clermont International (Olympic) Race where I qualified for the National USAT Championships in Tuscaloosa, AL.

One major question heading in to New Orleans was whether my strategy of training for an Ironman would deliver strong results at a 70.3 distance. I figured with my weakness being the bike, I would pack in more cycling miles (specifically 4 century rides) into 7 weeks of my build phase - then I would taper and nail New Orleans. After that, I would rest for a week and then "have fun" at Ironman St. George.

The other question was how well I would run considering a clear focus on bike improvement this training season...

I got my answer in New Orleans.

Conditions were not perfect. I had bi-coastal flights, red eyes and serious work commitments 6 days before New Orleans. Weather was a factor with a heat wave moving through New Orleans.

Mel was with me the whole way. We did our annual party night on Friday which involved a few extra drinks in the Big Easy...We had great fellowship with McRay on Saturday night at an awesome Emeril Lagasse restaurant called Nola.

Race morning. The bus to T-1 is always a trip. Nervous energy. I snuck Mel on the bus which helped keep me calm...I always feel on the brink of panic attacks on those transport buses...Anticipatory anxiety. I walk in to T-1, set up my gear and initiate my warm up routine...The water was "cold" (more later on the DEFINITION of cold). The wind was picking up...I could feel the nerves building. I tried to remind myself...everyone has to deal with these conditions.

They changed the swim venue this year. It was much slower with 3 different turns vs. last year which was a straight shot to T-1. One final twist on the swim...they put the Women's 45-50 AG right in front of our wave so navigation would be a factor.

The gun goes and there goes Andy Potts the eventual winner. He is a All-American / World-class Swimmer and he was Flying! Our wave goes out early and I felt awesome. Nerves are gone. I was struck by 5 AG women who were hanging on to buoys half way through the swim calling out for boat rescues. They were done. The water was rough...which is perfect for me. Mentally, I feel as though I have an advantage in rough water.

I got out of the water in 34 minutes. Not great for me but I wasn't really breathing hard. Cardio-wise, I felt awesome. I think I may have taken 2 of the buoys too wide...but still a better time than last year...Decent transition and off I go on the bike...The wind was brutal...Mostly a head wind...The roads were bumpier this year vs. last year...and then, the dumbest mistake ever...My tires were not fully inflated...huge disadvantage. This effected me mentally.

I held 20 MPH for most of the bike. My ass hurt from the low tires and bad roads. I pressed all the way through and finished the bike in 2:42 or so...that was a let-down but I blamed the wind and the low tires...still a slight improvement over last year.

Now the run. This was a mental challenge. Last year in New Orleans, I had NOTHING on the run...absolutely nada. I did it in 2:01 last year. This year, I wanted to try to click as many 8:00 - 8:15 miles as possible...I wanted to improve my run off the bike...and I did.

First mile felt ok. It was HOT...mid-80s with humidity...I forced down some more food...Not easy in that heat. To my surprise, I did the first mile in 7:53. Next mile was 7:56 and then 8 on the button...I was happy with that but I was fading quickly...I did the whole run in 1:52 which is 8:33 miles. Good but not great. Final time was 5:16. So a PR and a 12 minute improvement in much harsher conditions. I was very satisfied.

It was also cool to see Cortney Haile at mile 6 or so when I was on mile 8...she was FLYING. I am absolutely amazed by how easy she makes the run look...She finished 2 seconds behind me and was announced right after me...very cool. I think she came in 6th in her AG and may have even broken 5 hours which is nuts considering the conditions. She is a STUD!

It was also awesome to meet big Jim L. He seemed fresh having finished in the pro field hours earlier...How can any human being do a 70.3 in less than 4:20???

Overall an awesome race...Strong improvement in worse conditions...46th in my AG out of 300...I will take it. Perfectly positioned for more improvement this summer...I plan to lay it down in Cancun on Sept. 19 and see if I can gut my way into a Clearwater slot...

Then - off to Ironman St. George.

I told my wife that me being in this race was like putting my 11-year old prodigy son in an elementary school in Compton, CA. Nothing about this race catered to my strengths. I love warm, rough water. This was 58 degree water with no chop. I love hot, humid air. This was 43 degrees, dry and windy...(snow was on the mountain tops within 1 mile of T-1). I love flat road surfaces with no wind...This was 10,000 feet of bike climbing and 30-40 mph gusts (head winds!!!)...I loathe hilly running surfaces...this was 11 degree inclines...up and down, up and down...

The day before the race, I went out with T-Bart and Josh Eckhaus to "test" the water. I have a tradition (superstition actually) of swimming in the water the day before a race WITHOUT a wet suit...If I can swim comfortably without a wet suit...race day will be that much more comfortable...After doing the "count" 7 or 8 times...1-2-3, go. 1-2-3, go. 1-2-3, go...I finally got the courage and dove into the reservoir. I have never had that feeling in my life...My whole body seized up and I felt like I was gonna drown. I could not breath...I was hyperventilating from the cold...

This was terrible mentally for me...I had already heard about the bike climbs and the horror stories from the run course...but this was the swim...my strength...I panicked...T-Bart says, "cmon man...that was warm...no worries...you will be fine" I was a mess..."how the F____ am I gonna swim 2.4 miles in this???"

I get out and immediately head back to the hotel (15 miles away) to get my wet suit and try again. An hour later, I was back in the water with my SLEEVE-less wet suit...I swam for 10 minutes. It was FREEEEZING...but I survived.

I tried to convince myself I was okay. If I can do that for 10 minutes...I will warm up and my adrenaline will take over...But wait...maybe not...maybe the adrenaline will be too much for my heart...aren't there stories of heart attacks in cold water because your heart over-works and you don't even realize it? OMG. I am going to have a heart attack and die at 39.

I tried to eat and sleep. No dice. It's like "fake sleep" the night before these races. I lie there...tossing and turning...saying to myself..."oh my god...I need to sleep...I can't do an Ironman with no sleep...why do I put myself through this???" Hours go by. T-bart is snoring. I am lying there...waiting, 12 AM, 1:30 AM...2:30 AM...3:30 AM...Torture. Wake up call? No need. I get outta bed. Coffee. Oatmeal. Duece (the only thing that went right on race morning). Special Needs bag...so many details and logistics in an Ironman race...I am out of my mind. T-Bart is as calm as can be...I hate him. Ya gotta love him.

The bus to the reservoir. Panic attack. "Sip your Pedialyte." Oh God...am I really going to puke on this transport bus? Another panic attack. I get out of the bus. T-1. It's pitch dark. 5:00 AM. Windy. REALLY windy. And cold. Legendary announcer Mike Reilly is full of energy. I remember being in Scotland for a golf vacation and every morning it was 40 degrees, windy and raining...our host would wake up and say, "It's a beautiful morning out there...PERFECT conditions..." Mike Reilly announces that the conditions are a "perfect 44 degrees and 57 degree water." Jesus Christ. The sun starts to rise...I can see the snow cap mountains...Please sun. Come up. Please warm up.

I go into the changing tent. Warmth. Hundreds of dudes sitting silently in the dark. Nervous energy. Ipods. I piss six times. I am shitting my pants. "OK. You can do this"....Pray and meditate. Two hours til the gun goes off...Why does everyone seem so calm?

Canon blasts @ 6:45 AM. The pros go off. Nerves. Helicopters. Try to enjoy the festive atmosphere. I walk into the water with T-Bart. Freezing. I convince myself that I can do this. T-Bart takes me to the front of the line...its like a death march..."You can do this John. You are a good swimmer. You CAN do this..." He then says... "look around...there are plenty of people here with sleeveless wet suits." I look around. Huh? Not one person...I am in the front of an Ironman Swim in a sleeveless wet suit...treading water and praying the Hail Mary....2,000 other nut-jobs are treading water around me. The cannon blasts. I am off.

Get into a rhythm. Get to the first red buoy. I get smashed in the head, gut and balls... I get my goggles kicked off. Now I am pissed. My face and my toes go numb. I get to the red buoy. I think to myself..."that had to be 25-30 minutes..." I look at my watch. WTF...9 minutes...

Stay steady. I try to draft off T-Bart. He's gone within 25 minutes. At 32 minutes...I am in 60 feet deep water and at the furthest point from land...I can barely see land...I am tired. Breast stroke here and there..."get your bearings. Stay calm. Panic kills." I distinctly remember looking up at every 10th stroke to see where the boats and kayaks were...I was thinking about how fast they could get to me if my body locked up...43 minutes..."OK...way past half way"...You can do this...you can do bear anything for 20 minutes. Stay steady.

Oh know...what's that??? I start to feel both calves lock up uncontrollably...I have never cramped in any race...ever. Both calves start to lock. I can not feel my toes. My fingers are tingling...

GET TO LAND. You are in trouble. GET TO LAND. I start to extend my strokes and pull harder...55 minutes. 60 minutes. I am almost there. GET TO LAND. I can hear the announcements of people getting out of the water. I go faster. I actually start to relax and feel good. At 1:09, I am done...

I start to run up the ramp and suddenly, I go blank...whoa...I am outta the water...but I am overcome by cold. I start to remember...the water is 57 but the air is 43. So, there is a double shock to the body. My whole body starts to shake....I am fading...The crowd is screaming in slow motion...Someone asks "can I help with your wet suit..." I offer a blank stare. "Sir are you okay..1459...are you okay..." More slow motion...everyone was talking in slow motion but my body was shaking uncontrollably...I am freezing...I am fading...I somehow think, "GET TO THE WARM TENT...GET THERE NOW..." I get to the warm tent and someone comes over to me, "talk to me 1459...are you okay..." Chattering teeth, I say, yu, yu, yu---yeessss-...ju, ju, just need some t t t t time..." I can't even open my bag and put on my clothes...some dude starts to open the bag for me. He was a life saver. I feel the instant warmth of the tent. I convince myself I am okay. Honestly, the tent felt like 100 degrees. Heaven. Maybe I am dead and this is heaven.

20 minutes later...I am dressed and out...But I think I was still in shock...T-Bart is waiting...He says, "Jesus Gamba, I was worried...are you okay???" I say, "let's roll"...On the bike...I explain the whole experience. He laughs. But in a good way...He convinces me that I am okay....I am shaking on my bike...

I say to T-Bart, "now that that is over...this is gonna be a great day..."

Think again.

I had it in my head that Louisville was hilly. Never did I expect what was about to come...At mile 22, we start the mountain climbs...a double loop with 5 climbs that were 8-11 degree inclines...I am going 5 mph on my small rail and red lining at 160-180 bpm..This is Zone 4 for me...

I finish one loop at an average speed of 15 mph...At mile 60, T-bart says, "the wind is kicking up...this is gonna be the hardest thing you will ever do in your life...after this, you may decide NOT to do the marathon...but you will finish this ride Gamba...You will do this" The winds were in the 25-30 mph range...Oh yeah...I have never been in altitude so @ 6,000 feet, my head was pounding and I was sucking wind...I stopped to pee 3 times.

I get done the 2nd loop...I almost walked the last climb. Four others around me walked it...they walked FASTER than I rode it. This was an evil course...Such a paradox...the most beauty scenery I have ever seen...but evil in every way - wind, climbs, cold.

There were two 17 mile stretches where you did not need to pedal...total down-hills...unfortunately, I can't handle 40 mph on the bike so I am clutching the brakes...I can't even enjoy the down-hills...I am petrified. One pro blows by me, hits a rut in the road and starts to teeter...I am convinced he is toast....his water bottles and CO2 fly off his bike and head toward me as projectiles...I am going 35 mph...I swerve...Oh My God...I barely kept it together...

"God if you get me through this, I promise to enjoy the run and never complain about anything ever again..."

One final climb at mile 110 (bastards!) and I am headed into T-2.

No such luck.

T-Bart heads into the tent looking fresh...Now ironically, he never intended to do the run...H ei s20 weeks out from Kona and knew the run would ruin his plan for Kona. I am sitting there naked and he says, "Gamba, there is no way I can allow you to go out on that run...it will destroy you...You are done..."

Nice. So much for confidence...

There was never a doubt. I head out and say to myself, "You are a runner. You can do this. don't walk until mile 10..." Of course, I am walking at mile 2.

This was a huge climb. I remind myself that the run course is a double loop...Anything I face now, I will have to do again after Mile 13. Strategy change...Walk the climbs...Run the descents. Hydrate at every aid station...At mile 10, I say, "don't switch to coke and chicken broth until mile 14..." I treated that like a reward. I see members of my Florida team in front me...uggghh...I am supposed to be faster than them... This is humbling...

Weird that I see older, heavier women in front of me...but I also see studly guys who seem more fit behind me??? Only in an Ironman.

The run ended up being "enjoyable..." Getting past mile 13 was a mental challenge but a huge cross-roads for me...I knew I could finish. I get to mile 20 and I start to reverse split the miles...I am okay...3 hours slower than Louisville but hey...I am okay...The coke and the broth were to die for - they were as heavenly as the T-1 tent after the swim...I mixed in some pretzels and potato chips. I must get better with nutrition. The Uncrustables worked for the bike...but I struggled to eat on the run...my stomach was toast.

I was humbled when a volunteer gave me a glow necklace...I never imagined that I would finish at night...Not only did I finish at night...It was LATE night. What a surreal feeling of running in the pitch dark in the mountains of Utah...very spiritual actually. I was humbled. I broke down and cried at Mile 22. I was Overcome. Totally broken. The last 2 miles were down-hill and I felt like I sprinted...The finish was not as festive as Louisville's 4th Street live...but it was awesome...the crowd and the spirt was very powerful.

The misery of this course and conditions were juxtaposed by the unbelievable beauty of southern Utah and the friendly St. Georgians. They were out in droves on the bike and run course - they were upbeat, cheerful and empathic. The volunteers responded to us as if we were studs, heroes and nuts all in one...I think they knew that this was a different kind of Ironman course...I think they knew that many people were dropping out and that only the strong survived. Many were dumbfounded by my speed and composure on Mile 24 and 25...So was I.

Many post-race reviews of the venue have concluded that this is the hardest Ironman course in the world. Harder than Placid. Harder than Wisconsin. Harder than the Canary Islands...What a confidence boost...If I could get through that...I could get through any challenge...athletically and non-athletically...

"John Gamba from Fort Myers, Florida...YOU ARE AN IRONMAN..."

Those words never get old...

2010 - The World Pursuit...

2009. What a year. Ups and Downs. Trials and tribulations. Super-highs and some bad lows.

First the good. I nailed my triathlon goals that were set exactly a year ago. I finished the Ironman in under 12:30. I podiumed in a race (3 actually). I went sub-20 in a 5K. I came in 3rd or better in my AG in each of the 3 disciplines...I dramatically improved my swim and bike and I stayed strong with my running. I was pseudo-coachable but have much more work to do there...and I stayed balanced with my training, work and family commitments...all things considered.

Most importantly, JJ is a gifted student with straight A's and a love of learning that I never had. He is compassionate, caring, curious and cool. He is growing up fast and just a joy to be around. Then, there's Benjamin Strider. I have connected more with him than anyone this past year. His bright smile and happy demeanor brings warmth to my heart every moment I have the pleasure of hanging out with him...There is complete unconditional love for both my boys...

Now the not so good. Mel and I lost our child soon after we went through another round of Invitro. This involved another surgical procedure that was heart-wrenching. My Dog died tragically. The family businesses continued to get rocked by the economy. I tore my right calf muscle shortly after IM Louisville and was not able to compete in Half Ironman Cancun...

I'd say the biggest "high" in 2009 was IM Louisville. I never thought I could train so hard through such tough conditions (95 degree heat all summer) and perform on race day with such strength and conviction. I can't believe I could bike 112 hours and run the entire marathon...I loved the run down the shoot, the culmination at the finish line and the after-math of sharing the exultation with hundreds of fellow triathletes. Can't wait to do it again this year.

The biggest low was not only losing Lyoko, but the stress of work, the shitty economy (especially in real estate) and the toll that takes on our family. The entrepreneur thing and working from home sets up a very dangerous dynamic of stress, long hours, short fuses and unpredictable compensation. It was tough to turn it off and let it go. The bad energy crept into our home and daily life. Not good.

2010 will be different. The economy is showing signs of life. I have had good conversations with Mel on how to better balance. I am learning to surrender and let go. Mel's got my back...she provides an awesome ying to my "workaholic and take on too much" yang...We are communicating openly about another Invitro or adoption option. I am blessed by family, friends and faith that keeps me grounded...I know that God never gives me more than I can handle.

In terms of my triathlon goals...There is only 1 goal for 2010.

WORLDS. I will qualify for The Half Ironman World Championships in Clearwater, FL in November. This will require me to come in 5th or better in my age group or have a slot roll down. This will undoubtedly require a sub-5 hour effort...That's 30 minute swim, 2:35 bike and a 1:45 run...and 5 minutes or less of combined transition.

Achieving this goal will be harder than achieving all goals from 2009. It will require me to train smart and be more coachable - total trust in Coach Angie. Achieving this will require a good/better diet. Achieving this will require dialing in my bike...I will do this...

New Orleans on April 18...Providence on July 11???...Then, Cancun, Mexico as a back-up in September.

First up. River, Roots and Ruts half marathon this Sunday...Hopefully this will be a sub-1:45 effort with no mis-haps...Then Disney Half and Maybe the Naples Half in January...This willa allow me to assess my run fitness...I hope to be where I was last year...I know that I am a faster swimmer and much better cyclist.

I have had a pretty strong off-season. I hope this set the foundation...

John Gamba...You are an Ironman!

Ironman Louisville was a paradox in almost every sense of the word.

It was everything I expected in terms of the nerves, excitement, pain, comraderie, doubt, atmosphere, energy and aura surrounding the race. It was nothing that I expected in terms of my overall performance and post-race physical condition.

Two flights to Louisville. On flight 1, I spoke with a super-humble, 10-time Ironman who has made it to Kona. He is an active Marine and has seen combat in 3 countries. He was calm, cool and collected. He shared his triathlon war stories in Canada, Kona and IM Arizona. He made me shit my pants when he said that he did a 10:05 in Canada and 14:11 in Kona 4 weeks later...He said, "you never know how your body will respond on any given day..." OMG. This dramatized the possibility of me bonking. I feel ready...but what if...he stopped me..."trust your training, take it all in and smile at the finish...you are gonna do great..."

On Flight 2, I sat next to a first time Ironman competitor who seemed to share all the nerves and excitement that I was feeling. We talked about training in Florida, how much we both hate liquid nutrition and how much of a balancing act it is to prepare for a race like this and still try to be a good father, husband and business owner.

We both wondered about time expectations but neither of us had the balls to ask about time goals...we both talked about the importance of finishing...Once we landed in Louisville, Mike asks, "okay...what time would make you happy?"...I said, "no way man...I'm not thinking about time...but anything sub 12:30 and I will moon-walk across the finish line..."
He laughed. We exchanged business cards. He never told me what he wanted for his time and I did not ask.

Louisville is an awesome city. Very progressive. Hip. Very friendly. I stayed at the 21C Museum Hotel and I would highly recommend it. It is on Main Street right between the Muhammad Ali museum and the Louisville Slugger Museum and about 3/4 of a Mile from T1/T2. I was walking distance from everything.

Athlete check-in and Race Expo was predictable. Great energy. Full of "buzz." One thing that was unexpected was the "weigh in" and to have my body fat measured...I was 165 and 9% which isn't bad for a guy who just 4 years ago was 206 lbs, never ran a mile, had 135/90 BP and had double chins.

In the expo, I had the normal psychosis. Do I buy the Ironman shirt and stickers or is that completely taboo? With great hesitation and a coy comment to the cash register guy, I went for it. "Now I HAVE to finish."

Friday Night and Saturday was a blur. Incredible inspiration at the Ironman dinner on Friday night. That night, I shaved. I have never shaved my legs in my life. Took me over an hour. The sheets were amazing that night! Up early on Saturday for a quick swim in the river; a bike and 10 minute run. "Oh no...is that my calf talking? Please. Not my calf. If it hurts now, it will definitely seize up tomorrow. Oh please no." OK. Get over yourself. Calm down. Nothing you can do now.

Great mass at Church of the Assumption on Saturday afternoon. The homily message was "figure out your purpose and your passion"...The priest actually says, "if you have any time to yourself this next week, spend some time asking...REALLY asking...what do you want to do with your life and how do you want to improve your relationship with God?" Time to myself? Are you kidding me?

Saturday night was rough. I had the normal chicken pasta dinner...alone...with several strangers asking me about the race...asking if I am crazy...asking if I am nervous...asking if I would sleep that night...yes. yes. probably not.

I slept for 4 hours. I dreamed all night about that Riley guy..."John Gamba, you are an Ironman..." No wake up call needed. 4:45AM. I am up. First time ever before a race, I was not hungry. I was actually nauseaus. "Please. Please. No food poisoning. These are just nerves, right?" I forced down some oatmeal and black coffee. Then the most important thing that NEEDS to happen on race morning...did not happen...Everyone knows what that is...I was really bummed.

I walked to transition. It was cold. 60 degrees. Awesome. Dumped my special needs bags, filled my tires and was ready to roll.

Walked 3/4 of a mile to the swim start. We were a herd of cattle. No one spoke. Great tunes on my Ipod. Jurrasic 5. Tribe Called Quest. Nelly Furtado - Afraid!

Time trial swim start. The line was over a mile. I heard that people who were nervous about finishing inside of 17 hours lined up at 4 AM... I considered butting in line but knew that would lead to bad Karma...like cloudy goggles, flat tires, cramps on the run. So I headed to the back fo the line. There was nervous energy everywhere. Found some friends and waited in line. Peed. Waited. And peed again. And then peed one more time. Side note. Seeing a woman pee in the woods is very disturbing. Seeing a woman duke in the woods is even more disturbing.

Shot-gun blast and everything changed. I was ready. I dove in the Ohio River and started my first Ironman.

The thing about a time trial start is that you are in the water and surrounded by all kinds of swimmers...Good, bad...and terrible. I actually hit it hard for the first 800 meters because that was all against the current. I wanted to get through it. Solid rhythm.

First mistake of the day occured at the tip of the Island...I mis-judged a buoy and almost got DQ'd...I went left when the next two buoys were still right...the sun blocked my view. Didn't panic. Got back on track thanks to a kayaker who yelled at me to swim right.

Hit my rhythm at 40 minutes. I was bummed about the mis-direction and how many swimmers I had to swim over or around...but no big issues on the swim...Out of the water in 1:08 and change. OK. First Ironman swim. Anything under 1:10 was good...especially with no wetsuit.

For years, I refused to consider the sport of triathlon because I thought I was a terrible swimmer. I believe anyone who learned how to swim as a kid can learn how to swim well...some day, I want to go sub-60 on an Ironman swim!

Now...the first unexpected development. Getting out of the water, I have never felt like such a "king" in my life...the crowd was amazing. Cheering. Congratulating. Then, surprise. A volunteer is actually "assigned" to me. I grab my swim to bike bag and go into the tent. Surreal feeling. Bunch of naked guys in a smelly packed room moving a mile a minute....The volunteer asks me a series of questions...I'm kinda in a fog. He tries to assist me with my bike socks and shoes...he asks about sun screen...he asks if he can get me a drink? Are you kidding me? I'm like, "no man, I am all good..." Awesome experience. But completely unexpected.

The volunteers in this race were amazing. Absolutely amazing. The attention I got in T-1/T-2...the support all through-out the course. The way they treat you like a king is overwhelming. I have never experienced anything like it.

Bike course. Hills. Hills. And more hills. More shifting than I have ever done...except maybe that 100 mile race in North Carolina...This is where I was most unprepared...All my training was on flat courses in Florida. The course was beautiful. Incredible Blue Grass manors with thoroughbred horses grazing everywhere. Weather was perfect. I was ready for 90 degrees. It was low 70s.

My chain came off at mile 60 and it got "stuck"...lost some time there. That is a helpless feeling...anyone training to do an Ironman who does NOT practice transitions and basic bike repair is just dumb...plain and simple. I practiced. But not enough.

At mile 70, I was behind a 40-something woman whose water bottle appeared to be leaking...well, you know where this is going...her water bottle was NOT leaking. She was leaking...and it was hitting me in the face...can you believe this? She was literally pissing on me...the horror. Is this common?

Both knees flared up at mile 80. I knew I had Motrin at Transition. I knew that on most century rides, my knees flared up but were fine on the run. I finish the bike in 6:08. Not good. But not bad...I averaged close to 20 mph for the last 45 miles. Always finish strong!

The fun really began at T-2. More incredible attention from the volunteers at T-2. I get my bike-to-run bag and get ready. "My" volunteer sits me down and starts to take off my bike shoes. I stop him. He says, "relax John...I got ya"...I let him take off my shoes...he helps me put on my Newtons. He asks about sunscreen and vaseline and hydration. I am good to go.

I get out of T-2 and a burst of energy happens. All the fear and anxiety about the run goes out the window? What was the source of that fear and anxiety? Well, the longest transition run I have ever done after a 100 mile bike ride was 40 minutes...I feared that I would bonk and walk at Mile 3 or 4. I feared that I would be in a medical tent and on crutches at mile 10-12. Fear of Fear. Fear of the unknown. Anxiety over my training.

That doesn't happen. One thing about me. I am a runner. On the day after my long training rides...on 5 different occasions, I ran for 2-3 hours without stopping...and in 90+ heat. This prepared me.

My first mile over the bridge was 8 minutes. Second mile was 8 minutes. Third mile was 8 minutes and change. Holy shit. I can do this. I keep thinking, "put it in the bank...anything under a 10 minute mile pace is in the bank." I actually started thinking, "go faster so you will have less distance when your body starts to break..."

Then the mental gymnastics start. "Having started the run at 7:31, and if I can run sub-10 minute miles through mile 13 and if I can do that while walking through aid stations...I will have enough of a cushion and can go sub-12 hours..." But then I had my conscience... "Remember, Cancun is your race...this is just a long training day...don't be stupid..." I fought those thoughts throughout the marathon...

At mile 13, I was holding 10:00 minute miles...but barely! Some doubt crept in. The mental negotiations start. I can do this. I can't do this. Cancun. Shut it down. Don't be stupid. Don't be a pussy. Is this the start of a heart attack? Am I dizzy? Oh gosh, is that nauseau? Please...anything but Nausea...or maybe that is just gas...please no...

Wait...did they just offer me coke? Coke! More coke! And Pretzels! I actually AM hungry...more pretzels please...No more Gatorade...If I take another sip of Gatorade I may burst like Veruca Salt in Charlie and Chocolate Factory...

The energy builds at Mile 14.

At mile 14, there is an amazing fork in the road...The finishers go left and up the chute @ 4th Street Live in Downtown Louisville...I can see about 2,000 people cheering for the guy who is running down the shoot at 9:21...OMG. That is the coolest, most energetic finish I have ever seen...cooler than the LA Marathon, Disney Marathon and Marine Corps. Marathon....

I turn right at the fork. I'm thinking, "Sub 10 finishers go left...First time Virgins go right!" I hear in the distance, "Paul Gram-mani....from right here in Louisville, Kentucky...you are going to Kona my man..." Huge cheer! My mind wanders...maybe some day...

Back to reality - 12 miles to go...

Steady Eddy. Longer stops at the aid stations. I can do this. Something about Mile 13 gave me confidence...I am more than half way done the marathon and I am okay. Most of the people are walking.

Get to Mile 20. "If you do not bonk before 20, you will go sub-12 hours..." This was beyond my wildest dreams. One mile at a time. More coke. More water. More pretzels. No more Gatorade.
Mile 20 comes and goes. Pretty emotional. I have a 10K left. I start thinking about training runs. I somehow convince myself that 10Ks are a joke. One run around the golf course is exactly 6 miles. I start thinking about each hole. I have 18 holes to run. You can do this. In fact, I am going to start skipping aid stations and go two miles at a time. Just to insure I have 12 hours in the bag.

Mile 23. I never hit "the wall". I actually got faster. The kind of "faster" that isn't really faster...just faster in my own mind. Faster than I thought I could go after 137 miles.

Mile 25. I'm really gonna do this. I can see 4th Street Live. I can hear Riley. I can see the lights but not the big screen. I turn LEFT at the fork. I am the ONLY one around. There is a cheer from people who weren't sure if I was turning left or right. "Here comes another one."
Definitely the most amazing feeling I have ever had...at the risk of being in trouble with my family...I put the run down the chute up there with the birth of my children...same energy. Same emotional high. "John Gamba of Fort Myers...You are an Ironman"...

I stopped at the finish. I turned around. I looked back. I took it all in. Then, I crossed the finish line.

Once again, a volunteer was assigned to me...he grabbed my arm and asked if I was okay. I said, "yeah...I am good...I feel great." He said again, "I got ya man" and held my arm." I said, "No, No...I am good...really I am great...I feel like I could keep running..." He laughed. He must hear some crazy shit at the end of that race. It was all so surreal. It ended so quickly.

11:42 - 1:08 swim. 6:08 bike. 4:11 run.

I didn't die. I didn't bonk. I definitely smiled at the finish. In the end, I trusted my training and my body held up. There was no trip to the medical facility and I was ready to party all night...
The real story starts at about 15:30 of an Ironman. After the congratulation calls and the massage and the 4 slices of pizza...the coke (no Gatorade!) I ventured back to 4th Street Live...I posted up at the finish line and watched every finisher come in...

I saw every walk of life come down that chute. Fat, thin, young, old, black, white, men, women, doctors, priests, mothers, cancer survivors, 10-timers, first timers...joggers, runners, Blazemen rollers, moon walkers...they were all there. I even saw "the proposal" and I cried...
Two of my friends crossed at 16:40 and 16:45. They were exhausted but ecstatic. I am not sure that there is any place on earth where you can find as many happy people - genuinely happy people - as you find at the finish line of an Ironman.

Many of my friends now ask, "what's next"...Who knows. All I know is that I am happy - genuinely happy - and grateful - No one can take that day away. I am an Ironman!

IM Louisville - T-minus 2 weeks

Two weeks away. Finally got my flight, hotel and bike transport done. Now I am in final prep. on nutrition, hydration, attire, etc. There is an incredible amount of planning and logistics...I just want to be done with the planning...I just want to toe line and go.

Anticipatory anxiety.

I keep having the same dream...that I have all this equipment on race morning that needs to be assembled...some how in my subconscious there are fins and paddles and wet suits and gear that needs to be assembled on my body before jumping into the water. I do my normal "last second plan" and I am not ready...oh shit...14 minutes minutes til the gun and I am the only one not ready...some Jeff Spicolli burner dude is a volunteer race official...he is from Louisville...he slowwwwwllllyyy says, "...don't worry dude...I got ya covered...he starts taking his time as he helps me assemble my equipment..." No. Please. I have to get into the water and go. I am tired. I haven't slept all night...haven't taken a dump...where's my f'ing goggles...oh shit, I forgot my Pedialyte...Spicolli guy: "Pedialyte? Ahhh...dude...what are you doing with Pedialyte? that's pretty funny dude..." all these other athletes are rested and ready. They are all so calm and ready and I am hysterical and then...oh shit...where's my damn race chip...I wake up...

I am trying not to take myself so seriously. I am trying to convince myself that this is not a race...that this is a long day of training. I am trying to have fun with it. Every time I do a transition run after 100-105 miles on the bike, I keep thinking..."just keep an 11 minute mile pace and you will be able to finish...remember, Cancun is the REAL race..."

But I haven't convinced myself...

There is that Fear of Fear. I fear that I won't sleep for several days before the race. I fear that I will get to the end of the bike and be drained and have nothing for the run. I fear that I will get injured and be toast for Cancun. I fear that I haven't fit my bike correctly and I am dicking around with saddles at the last second. I fear that I haven't REALLY committed to a nutrition plan. I fear that I am not having fun with this. I spent all this money and expended all this time and energy and I am dreaming about Jeff Spicoli???? How is this fun? I am bummed that my family will not share in this...

But to end on a positive note. I had a terrible ride on Friday. The saddle was wrong. I was sliding all over the place with the new Adamo ISM. I was slow. It was windy. My transition run sucked. I was bummed because this is one of the last longer rides before IM. But I kept a positive outlook. I went and got the seat adjusted and chalked it up to a bad day...

I said to myself, "take a day off on Saturday and see how you do on a 90 minute run on Sunday with over a day of rest..." Yesterday was the first 10+ mile run with a day of rest that I have had in months and OMG...did I fly. I am pretty sure I did 12.5 miles in exactly 90 minutes...And it was effortless. I felt like I was on a "forever pace."

So now it is time for deep breaths. Meditation. Letting go and letting God. I did my best. Time to taper...not only physically but mentally...time to really tune in to my motives for doing this. This is perhaps the biggest physical and mental challenge I have ever faced. It took guts and perseverance and commitment to train the way I did. I have overcome injury, doubt and fear. I made an invest in myself and I am in the best shape of my life...I can do this.

Deep down. I know I can do this...

3rd Century Ride - 19.5 mph

So I went on my 3rd Century ride with the team this weekend. I held an amazing 19.5 mph for all of the 105 miles. We did stop 3 times (briefly) for hydration...so that is a bit of an *asterisk*...and it was pace lined...so that has to be factored...and I did get dropped in the last 10 miles by my coach and two others and that was depressing...but all in all...I am feeling pretty good about the progress and my prospects for Ironman Louisville.

Of course, several things have me concerned. First, my right knee flared up at the end of the ride. My bad knee. My ACL-less right knee that I have refused to fix. Second, my transition run was turtle slow. I think it was because I pushed so hard (for me) on the ride. Third, I really can't see myself running the entire marathon after a 112 mile bike. Fourth, what's up with the numbness I am feeling every 5-10 miles in my groin area? Gotta fix that! Fifth, is IronMan stupid when my entire focus and motivation is performing well in Half Ironman Cancun? All the literature says that it is stupid to try to race a race three weeks after an Ironman.

I don't want to be a quitter. I definitely do not want to wait til next May to do my first Ironman. I do know that all this training is making me stronger. But I don't want to kill myself in this race and then be "toast" for Cancun. Analysis paralysis. All the travel and logistics is also buzz kill.

This is typical for me. Anxiety. Manic episodes of worry and wasted energy. I just have to make a decision and go with it. T-Bart may be coming to Louisville and that is a plus. The swim is "down-stream" and that is cool. I know I can do the swim and bike and then at least 8-10 miles of the run...then I can walk.

I also have to look at the big picture...I have hit many of my goals that were set in January. I podiumed in two races. I came in first in one of the disciplines in a race (swimming in Englewood)...I ran a sub 20 minute 5K. I have to work on the balance and perspective and not get stressed out about Ironman and all the challenges associated with it. I have to train with a smile and smell the roses along the way. Life isn't perfect. Plans don't always line up. Balance doesn't always happen.

As I stress out here...irrationally...a team member rests in a hospital bed after being attacked by two dogs on her ride this past Saturday. She broke two bones and has spots on her head...Without a helmet, she would be dead...Talking about the unpredictable. Life can change in a heart-beat. I just have to live it. Breath. Smile. Laugh. Accept.

Englewood Sprint - "Down Goes Fraa-zier"

Yesterday's Englewood (FL) sprint race was quite an experience. This was a 400 m. ocean swim, 14 mile bike and 5K run. The swim was great but I will never get used to the sprint swim where everyone is punching and kicking to get around the first buoy. I came out of the water in 6:10 which is darn good for me and a validation for extra swimming lessons I am taking.

Being a small, regional race (~300 people), I was near the front in the first few miles of the bike. I held 24 MPH for the first 6 miles when I saw the first 2 competitors coming back at me and then it hit me..."I am in 3rd Place"...overall! This is a very novel feeling for me.I slowed down, made the turn, hit some gravel and then BAM...I was down. Another first. I have never crashed a bike. One foot came out of the clip, the other stayed in. I probably crashed at 12-14 MPH which is crazy when I think of some of the other friends who have crashed...Like David who went down at 25 MPH last year. I can't even imagine. Two officials came over and the guys in 4th-10th passed me...one guy said, "GET UP, You are okay"...My knee was road rashed, my elbow looked like a softball and my aero bar pad was broken in half...I paused to assess the damage and sure enough, I was okay...

Crashing is surreal. It happens in slow motion. One second you are fine, the next second you are going down and that "shock" feeling hits...I clipped back in and headed for home. I remember Lance had a crash a few years ago and it made him pissed...he sped up the hill and smoked everyone. I had that feeling for like 3 miles...I was committed to catching the guys who passed me...but no such luck. I actually went into anaerobic mode and it hurt me on the run.

It was crazy coming out of T2 with blood running down my arm and leg...an official stopped me to assess and then let me go. I had an okay first mile...but got passed by two fast runners. But then I caught 2 other runners and held strong...Kept it at 7 minute miles the whole way. Came in 3rd in my AG...Missed 1st by 20 seconds. But it was another podium finish and that feels great. To crash and still podium is something I could never imagine. There is a bit of an asterisk as this was a much smaller, low profile race...But still. I made it through my first crash with minimal damage...

I have an elite racer friend who once said early on in my training...There are two kinds of bike riders..."Those who have crashed...and those who are going to crash"...I certainly can attest to that!

"Peak" Training

It's been an action packed 3 weeks of training. What a culmination last week.

It started with a Thursday morning ride of 95 miles which took 5 hours on the button. I felt "bonky" on the ride in the heat but pulled it together in the end with a great transition run...all TR miles were sub 7:30s.

I then left for a 10 day excursion to Philly, DC, Virginia, Tennessee and North Carolina. This was very scary for me. No coach. No bike. No team for mental support. No comfort zones where I knew I could reserve time for training. Just wing it and smile as much as possible.

So with the help of my coach...I pieced together a plan and stuck with it as best I could. I ran and lifted on Friday...Rested on Saturday and then ran in the Sister Blister 5K on Sunday with the entire family...We were late (of course) and I was scrambling to get to the starting line. The gun goes and I am running to get Benjamin into his stroller and quared away. I started the run 18 seconds late and scrambled to get around all the walkers. Still finished in 20:50 on the clock and then ran south towards Ocean City.

Little did I know that as I was completed a Sunday "long run", my sister was on the podium getting her first award for coming in FIRST in her age group - she PR'd with a time of 24:55. So proud of her. She was non-chalant and "just happy to be there"...Mel and JJ started the race late. JJ was tired and had a tough day...But we were all psyched to be in shape and run the race together. Dad picked me up at 1:55. I had run through Stone Harbor, Avalon and Sea Isle City...A total of about 12 miles...AFTER running the 5K. We feasted at Bob's Grille and had a great Sunday.

We headed south to DC and I rushed to fit in some pool / lap work at BA's pool in McLean. I also got in some short runs around her neighborhood...she has some great hills. In Winchester, I worked out at an awesome local gym...did some great stationary bike work for over an hour.

Headed to Luray Caverns and Roanoke, VA...Got in a great Pool / Run work-out at the Roanoke Athletic Club. This was a tough two hour work-out at 9 PM after a full day of driving. Rested on Friday to get ready for the Hot Doggett Road Race on Saturday...

I rented a Cervelo Soloist from a great Bike Store in Asheville called Biowheels. Great aluminum frame...good Ultegra Gruppo and just an awesome "feel"...this plan to race in Asheville really came together...I had a choice...the Devils Fork Metric Century (64 miles) or the Full 100 Mile Century Ride. Crazy as I am...I chose the 100-miler. My first Century Ride.

I didn't really know what 9698 feet of climbing really meant. Well now I know. After seeing over 100 churches that serve a population of what couldn't be more than 2,000 people...after being chased by dogs, seeing incredible brooks / streams and almost all of the Bridges of Madison County...after seeing subsistence farming at its finest...after crossing the Appalachain Trail twice...after meeting some of the nicest volunteers in some of the coolest fire houses and after climbing 5 mountains at an average speed of 4 mph...I finished....2 hours after the winner...in 7 hours, 42 minutes. That's an average speed of 12.92 MPH.

This was a spirtual experience for me. I teared up when the odometer went from 99.99 to 100 miles. I raised my arms after the last climb and screamed, "thank you God!"...I went for literally 4 hours without seeing one human being...but feeling like I was being watched by mountain people...I saw hawks and eagles and deer and some of the most incredible vistas I have ever seen in my life. I clutched the breaks on descents and literally saw my life flash in front of me...I hit 40 MPH on a fricking bike! It was almost an out of body experience.

I was blown away by my physical state at mile 100. I could have gotten off and ran. I didn't. But I could have. I also never panicked on the ride. I always knew I could make it. There were times when I did my first 50 miles and 65 miles in Fort Myers where I was so done...totally broken...ready to quit. Not on this one. Every climb was met with determination to make it to the top and then "enjoy" the descent....I never felt like quitting. I never felt overwhelmed (physically). I can taste the "Iron."

Sunday was another physical feat. I went to the local running store - Jus Running - and asked them to direct me to the coolest trail run in Ashville...one that would challenge and inspire me...a 13 mile run. They sent me to the top of to a "local legend" mountain and said, "follow the white dots...6.5 miles to the Art Center...6.5 miles back...if you can do it without walking...you are a stud"...

Boy do I love these kinds of challenges. The 13 miler may have been tougher than the century ride. Several climbs and descents on a single track trail. Poison Ivy everywhere. The time flew by. I finished in 2 hours and 5 minutes...but I did walk for 40 seconds. There was a climb that had to be 6 degrees that lasted for over a mile....I just couldn't make it. My guess is that my HR was approaching 180-190. I also stopped to fill my water bottle a fresh water stream.

Mountain training is incredible...in small doses. I would not want to do this on a regular basis. I loved the cool temperature, the vistas and the variety that comes with the peaks and valleys. I love the nature and the beauty. But I suck at descents on the bike. They scare me. I get no thrill from that kind of speed. The climbs are grueling and great for building the cardio / core engine...but I don't think I could do that on a regular basis. There is not the feeling like, "well if I practiced I would enjoy it more..." None of that.

This kind of training felt like a Utopia for extreme athletes and athletics. Great to visit. But great to be back. I could feel the strength in my bike trainer on Tuesday. I struggled in the heat in the pool and track today...amazing that 10 days away and my body got used to training in the cooler temperatures...

Recover week this week. Race on Saturday. And another build next week.

85 miles @ 19.5 mph

Last week was another "build" week. Glad it is over!

Last week also had a few days of broken records in terms of heat, humidity and heat indexes. During the weekend, when training demands were at their highest, the heat indexes regularly soared around 103 degrees.

The week started with a good recovery swim on Monday and trainer work-out on Tuesday. I changed my strength training to focus more on perfect form, lighter weights and more reps. Trying to increase strength in "core" areas vs. bulking up.

Wednesday was an awesome swim / track work-out...The swim was intense with an 800 warm-up and two 800 repeats on 30 seconds rest. The track work-out involved a 300, 600, 800, 600, 300 ladder with 300 meter recoveries between each. Thursday was a rest day...Friday was strength training and some good core work.

The fun began on Saturday morning. I had my new Bontrager S-aero bars and new Bontrager tri. shoes. I left the house at 6:55AM with an 85 mile / 4.5 hour journey in front of me. Temperature at 7AM was 84 and humid. The 85 mile course involves 1 large bridge and 4 other smaller bridges. I went from Gateway to Sanibel Island to Fort Myers Beach to Estero to Bonita Beach to Naples...to the Circle K freezer!!!!...to Bonita Springs to Corkscrew Road to SWF International Airport and then back to Gateway...

Did the whole 85 miles with moderate wind and one break (at Mile 57 to refill the bottles) in 19.5 MPH. This is a big breakthrough for me. I am hoping to do the 112 miles (with several hills) in Louisville at an average of 18 mph. With the heat and bridges, I was happy to hold on and keep it above 19 MPH.

Followed the ride with a 25 minute transition run...did a full 3.5 miles which is also a break-through for me. Did the first mile in 7:17 and held steady from their. Well under the 8 minute miles that is the bogey in my head that I want to beat in Cancun. In the end, I was spent. But psychologically, I felt great!

Sunday morning's wake-up call was @ 5:55. On the books, I had a 15 minute open water swim, followed by a 1:45 run. Needless to say, my legs were heavy. Swim went great. Water at FM Beach was 88...hotter than the morning air.

Run involved 3 trips over the FM Bridge. Felt really tired but motivated on the bridge. When I hit the beach, the air went stale. No breeze. I was really shot. I ran a total of 45 minutes and then turned back to get water. Still working on this hydration thing. I HATE to run with a water bottle. Gulped down a bottle, put my head under a shower and ran one more jaunt over the FM bridge. Ran with a water bottle...

When I got back, the commisarry store had the news playing. It was the hottest day of the year and one of the hottest days in terms of index in 100 years. I felt great to be done. I started thinking about the hot water in the gulf and the hurricanes that must be brewing out to sea. I can't remember a summer season this hot...but then again, I never was training for an Ironman.

This is a "recovery" week...11 hours of training vs. 14. 3 hour bike ride on Saturday vs. 4.5. Coach says, "respect the recovery week..." because she knows my propensity to over-train. Are you kidding? I will milk any rest for all it is worth!!!!