Portland Marathon approaches

Pre marathon racing activity for me usually constitutes a nice pasta dinner on Friday night and, well, either viewing Prefontaine or Rocky or something. Basically I look at the nights before a marathon as a time to really try to take my mind off the race.

So, tonight I'm trying to figure out which movie to watch. It will be a fairly laid back trip to Portland this weekend, so what do I need???

I'll tell you, this is what I'm watching... Deal or No Deal. Howie Mandel at his finest. The stress of complete luck matched with overdramatized music. It's kind of set up like "Who Wants to be a Millionaire?" only it has absolutely nothing to do with any knowledge. Just pick numbers and hope you pick the right one... And know when to call it quits!

I know... Mindless t.v. Actually it's something simple like that, with some finality and no real thought required, that makes perfect sense as a pre-race activity. I've had some pasta already and I'm ready to call it a night anyway. So why not a little fun t.v. candy.

I also have finally taken pictures of a new toy I picked up a couple of weeks ago...

That's right, I bought a new bike. It's a Cervelo P3... Nice, silver frame. I'll get the specs out on this. It's got DuraAce components, an Easton Aerobar, Fi'z'ik saddle, and 650c wheels... 650c wheels? Okay, now I have to get a little educated and figure this out. I'm a 5'11" guy and generally we need 700c wheels, but after doing a LOT of reading I discovered some advantages to the 650c wheels. First of all, the less rolling resistance. Second, lighter... Making hill climbing easier... I'm still out on whether this will make things faster, but one thing it would do is make the riding "easier". My profile will be lower and the bike is a whole lot lighter.

I tried to get some specs off the website but it is a slightly older bike so I have to search through some older online reviews to see any info on this. But you can tell that I have a little affinity for the Cervelo company. The Cervelo One that I had the pleasure of riding this year really changed how I rode. I felt that, when I got on that bike, I learned to ride differently, and rode smarter. I rode it with a broken hand, and I rode faster and stronger than ever. Was this a result of more bike fitness? Yes, but combine that with the Cervelo and I just always felt better. I'm hoping this is an opportunity to take my riding to another level. I'll be using the GT during the winter and my hope is that my uncle will be using his bike next year to train on. And this, with new race tires, will make it's racing debut at the Oliver Half Ironman in June.

I have to thank my tri-club teammate Shane for selling me his used bike. It was something I figured I would have to do next year at some point, and now just made sense.

If you look on the top shelf, you'll notice two wheels. I also picked up a pair of race wheels... These are HED race wheels and they are tubulars... So, I have a new learning experience for this year... How do I change a tubular tire???

Well, this goes back to my thoughts in June of last year about how I wanted a new bike and how unnecessary it all seemed. It still seems unnecessary... But getting a new bike does give you a sense of anticipation and thrill about the coming year. Like there's something new out there to explore. I can't wait to ride the Ironman course on this ride and see how it goes.

For now, it's time to focus on the marathon ahead. Paul, Kristina and I are leaving tomorrow at 7am and heading down south. There are some folks from the Denman Running Room heading down tomorrow as well, and we're meeting Rachel and Michael down there tomorrow.

Time to head to bed...

This week in recovery

I'm tapering... again...

I have the Portland Marathon this Sunday and I am just coming back to feeling recovered, only in time to taper again for the marathon. Now begs the question, "how should I approach this race?"

I have thought a lot about it, and gone back and forth between thinking about my pacing and running by heart rate. However, the "zen" part of me wants to simply run it and "find my pace" throughout the run. I am wondering what might happen if I leave the watch at the hotel and just run for the sake of running, trying my best to tune into how my body feels and completely release myself from timing and measuring devices... What kind of a run would that be?

Would it be worth the experience to simply let it all go and run the race my body wants to run? I think so. I've never done it before this way so why not?

This weekend I raced the Muddy Buddy with my brother, Steve. This is the second time we've done this race, and we came in 11th 2 years ago. This year.... 4th!!! We were the 4th overall team. Dubbed "The Epp Men" (taking after the X-Men), we made our presence felt out there. I think we should do this race again next year and call our selves "Epp Men 3, The Last Stand"... If Steve has a baby boy, how apt would that be?

The race is quite a fun little event. Essentially you leap frog over each other, switching between mountain bike and running in the North Vancouver trails, and finish off each leg with an obstacle. The final obstacle is a big mud pit that you jump into and work hard to get yourself dirty...

That's me up top and Steve on the bottom picture... How fun is that???

Sustainable Living

"You mean we get to swim around in a circle, bike in a circle, and run in a circle, and then come back to the same place that we started?"

What a cool way to live! It all doesn't necessarily mean we try to get "anywhere" specifically, but just go through the process only to get back where we came.

This has been something I've been grappling with all year, not just within the Ironman goal and trying to figure out a really "deep" meaning behind it, but with the purposefulness of all the big things that we all place great importance on... Career, relationships, success, health, spiritual development. The first instinct is to try to figure out "what is the end goal here?". When you look at it globally, though, it's all about coming back to the place that you started.

I'm becoming quite enamoured with the word "sustainability." It started many years ago, but in the past year I've tried to sharpen my senses in searching for areas of sustainability around me or in my own life. There is, certainly, a level of environmental and societal sustainability that is preached in the news and in recent movies. I recently read about "AnInconvenient Truth" by Al Gore. I have yet to see the movie, in large part because I really do agree with many of the points that I have read it covers, and I don't feel a pressing need for another movie to open my eyes to something I am already well aware of. I read enough newspapers, books and online accounts to know what's going on.

The common dogma of the environmental movement really can be explained with the word "sustainability". I don't believe we can go back to living in the woods and not allow societal pressure to dictate a part of our conservation strategy, but I also do believe that we each have a role to play in our own contribution to the environmental issue. It's a problem and the easy thing to do is throw your hands up and say "where do I start?" and then not start. But Al Gore, and many like him, ask for the practice of "carbon neutral" living, meaning that for every emission and environmentally impactful action or event that you are involved in, that you equally contribute to the preservation of the environment. In other words, your presence has a neutral effect on the environment, or better.

Interesting thought...

Now, I would like to take that down to a micro level and ask if it's possible to be "neutral" in our own lifestyle. Because what I am concerned about is whether I can maintain an Ironman training schedule, have a career, be financially independent, have a family life, maintain social relationships, be "healthy" (nutrition, sleep, virus-free), be spiritual, meet my intellectual needs, and, oh yeah, have fun in the process. That seems like a monumental task... But if we break it down, the key is figuring out the balancing point in each of them. I know, also, the being excessive in any one area at the expense of another, will make the balancing act.... unsustainable. Much like unchecked industrialization creates wealth at the expense of the environment and, in some ways, the lower class, I cannot be "all Ironman" at the expense of my career, or my spiritual health, etc. because it will prove unsustainable - I'll be poor and in debt, for one, but also will lose out on family, fun, etc....

There is an "identity" associated with the Ironman athlete or other extreme sport participant that we are expected to be self-absorbed, one dimensional... The "tri geek" label is not without its merits in the description of some of us. But, I don't think that because the stereotype exists, that it's necessary to slot into that. I fully believe, and have seen this, in people who compete in Ironman and, outside of that, lead fairly "normal" lives.

So, what does it require to do this all? It is not easy, first of all. And I think acknowledging that is step number one. It does take some work and commitment. But I think the easy part comes by looking at everything as a compliment to the other. I need a career, and to be successful, in order to afford and justify being an Ironman, and also to fund the other things I want to be. It's hard to be spiritually focused when you're always in debt, because you are stressed. And stressful living is a surefire way to being unsustainable.

The first thing I need to do is sharpen my time management up, recognizing that, with 24 hours in my day, I have a finite amount of time to accomplish my goal of sustainable living. I need to look at my priorities and what being "sustainable" means in each of these areas that I've identified as important to me. In financial success and independence, I am recognizing that my day job as an IT sales rep is sustaining me, and I need to ensure that I am successful in that. I also need to recognize that, while I have a salary, the expenses that I incur as an Ironman athlete are above my ability, with a salary, to maintain, so I need to realize that I have to look for more sources of financial wealth, but also realize that I have to consider the finite amount of time that I have. See, it's difficult, but that simply tells me that gaining income from sources that don't require large investments of time is important... Hmm, this means investing and letting my money generate its OWN income.

Now, I'm not greedy. I don't need millions. What I need, though, is a plan of attack and I need to realize that, in order to be how I want to be, I must learn to be active in the investment market.

The bottom line is that I would love to be doing Ironmans on a yearly basis and enjoy the process without pinching my dollars to the point of extinction, a habit I have built up despite my background in financial advising.

Independent lifestyle is all about sustainable living, and the two are intertwined. Being an Ironman athlete is one of the things I do, and I love it, but it is sustained by my ability to fill the other areas of life in conjunction with it.

Being broke is nothing to be admired nor is it a "simpler" way of life. To live and exist in a city liek Vancouver, you simply need money. To be an Ironman, you need $10-15k of disposable income PER YEAR. It's simple math that if it takes $35,000 to live independently in Vancouver (and I have done so on $35,000/year) then you need $50,000 to do the Ironman as well. And this is assuming that the rest of life doesn't come into play. I have a wedding and two trips to the States already for 2007, in addition to my Ironman schedule, that will be another $3-4k throughout the year...

And so on and so on, and the real trick is that every year there will be "something". One year there will be a family, and that will require a whole restructuring of how "sustainable living" applies when you add the dependence of others.

It's funny, but deciding that Ironman was important part of my life has, instead of limiting my options, it's causing me to think of all my options and focus on creating my life in all areas, and figuring out what's important in each. Throughout this year I'll be refining and thinking more and more about what is truly important in each area of my life and figuring out how that works (i.e. sustains itself). But it's one thing at a time. I know I can do financial, Ironman, and start on eating healthy so I have energy for it all, getting in touch spiritually, etc. I can't worry about relationships right now, or a partner, because, well, I don't have one to worry about yet. So, as that becomes a part of this life, I can intertwine it into the fabric of the other aspects that I am "sustaining" (see, I love this word now).

Thus, a start on the theme of this year. Become a better athlete and a more well-sustained person... Continue the journey...

Third weekend off!

I'm celebrating my third weekend off since Ironman. It really feels like it was a long time ago that the Ironman was finished...

I have been relishing my self-imposed hiatus from Ironman living. I'll be starting week number four this week.

My theory has been that, in any sports season, the professional athletes always take a month or two of complete rest before they get back to it. While I am still doing a little running and have a marathon at the end of the month, I'm not sticking to a schedule other than running with my clinic, and that's helpful from a purely social level, as I enjoy chatting with them all as they get ready for their marathons. It's fun, for a few weeks, to have no consideration of my own training while I'm able to focus on my clinic folks. Actually, I find it quite relaxing and enjoyable.

After I get back, I'm working on a "training camp" of flexibility and strength workout. Again, following the theory of professional sports athletes, I want to spend the fall and winter with a fairly "rigorous" (although that seems somewhat paradoxical) flexibility schedule by taking on a 30-day yoga challenge... My goal is to enter the base training in January with greater flexibility and strength (core and upper body especially) than ever. I'll maintain a swim/bike/run program throughout the fall, but it will largely be centered around technique and skill improvement and little actual fitness training. I'll leave that to the yoga and strength work.

After my break, the focus will also be on a solid nutrition plan and modification. My personal feeling is that this will be the best time to work on habits and lifestyle changes, because the "regular season" will be a tough time to stick to a schedule.

I also registered for the Oliver Half Ironman in June this week....

Am I getting started on this all too soon? That's my biggest fear. I'm trying to balance the planning with other activity and fun, so that I am not always locked into the triathlon life. But now I realize that it is this life that I enjoy. I like being an Ironman athlete, and doing what it takes to get ready.

I have been asking the question, "what's going to be different this year?" Well, first of all, this is the first year that I'll be training for Ironman on the heels of a previous Ironman, so I'm building on the training experience and development that I put in this past year. That's exciting. I'm starting off at an advantage.

Some other things, though, are more and more peace and trust in my decisions. I'm not doubting my choices, nor my lifestyle. I know this is what I like to do and I can go about it unapologetically. I also know I'm "built" for the sport, in other words, I can handle the training and I've shown that to myself.

A new job and some degree of stability don't hurt.

I also approach this with an open mind, and a knowledge that events and circumstances over the year will affect how my life and training go, and I can accept that. In fact, I expect the unforeseen now.

For this weekend, though, I am sleeping in and enjoying some walks on the beach! It's fall outside and the temperature is falling slightly, but I love it...

More Ironman pictures... Thanks to Josie

These photos courtesy of Josie and Chris. Click on the title for the full slide show!

Where's Anthony???? He's taking way too long... (Paul on the phone, Josie looking, Mom and Uncle Erv staring out, waiting - it's going to be a while, take a seat!)

Going out for the run!
Giving props to my homies! "Hang ten"
I'm being chased by the pack (delusions of grandeur are a sign of fatigue).
Jen looking very happy for someone running an Ironman
The great Angela!
Josie... She's doing what we all want to be doing...
Sister Madonna setting out on the run!
The finish chute! So cool!!!

First order of business... get outta town!

For my first order of post-Ironman recovery and re-energizing, I am taking off for the weekend for a little R&R. My Dad and I, and some of our other cousins and uncles, are heading up to the interior for a little fishing. It is a wonderful opportunity for me to escape for a couple of nights and just relax. It will be the first 3 day holiday from exercise in a long time, and my hope is that it recharges me. I'll be able to do some non-Ironman contemplation and reflection...

Next week, the Vancouver Dolphins starts up again and I am seriously considering joining up with them for 5:30am swims on Tuesday and Thursday. Since I have to work at 7am anyway, this makes a lot more sense than it used to. This is a plan, at least... We'll see how practical it becomes!

Finish line celebration...

The face says it all! And a little lighter at the finish than when I started...
If a picture is worth a thousand words... Then I don't have anything more to say!

Running in pictures...

Looking and feeling good early in the run....

Not so much at this point though... At least the camera has me in a running shot (instead of walking)!

The view from the bike... in pictures!

A shot from the bike... Pedalling strong and feeling great...
Out of the aeros.... Must be finishing Richters Pass!!!

A recreational drinker with an Ironman problem...

For those of us who have the privilege of going to Ironman Canada each year to participate, volunteer, or be a specatator, the town of Penticton turns alive and into a festival, celebrating athletic folks and the people who help them.

But despite that weekend, Penticton is a relatively quiet town, and Ironman, despite the carnival during the last weekend of August, is still a relatively out-of-the-norm sport. Even though people clamour for the 2500 available slots each and every year at Ironman events, we're still a rather weird group in the eyes of the mainstream.

Certainly, we aren't put in the same level as hockey, but probably not even the same as many televised sports around the globe. I think part of this is due to the fact that it is especially difficult, and often boring, mind you, to watch an Ironman event 'live'. It's really like going to the PNE or something. You hang out for a few hours and then get on with your day, never really sure of the specifics of the whole event.

If Ironman were run like a NASCAR event, we'd see countless loops of a large track for the bike, and several loops of a running track for the run, and every spectator would get to see every athlete.

But it isn't done that way. We're a little more of an established event than, say, an ultramarathon event, which sometimes consists of a map, a compass, a start and a finish line, and little more. But we're still pretty much on the fringe.

The sponsorships and prize money are growing, but they're nothing compared to other professional sports. Athlete's, even pro's, carry other jobs to make ends meet. We're excited when Timex gives us a free watch, or a bike shop gives us a free tune-up as a draw prize. We love to get a technical running shirt as a finisher's prize because, well, it gives us a new item of clothing to run in. Can you imagine every hockey player, upon finishing the regular season, going for their "bonus cheque" and receiving a jersey for next season? Then again, for them that might mean job security...

No, we're all a bit nuts. We carry day jobs and fight our best to be as alert as possible each day of work, knowing full well that the only way we can sustain our Ironman "hobby" is through gainful employment in a job that, for most of us, has little or nothing to do with endurance racing. From 9am-5pm or, in my case, 7am-3pm, we owe our time to our jobs. If we could only spend that time getting in a quality workout, or some recovery sleep, or a massage, wouldn't we be just THAT much better?

And some of us have a family. I have a loving mom and dad, a brother, a sister-in-law, and a beautiful extended family... I haven't taken that step and found a partner to start a family with. She's out there, but we just haven't crossed paths (or we have but at the wrong time for one of us). But I have those obligations, and I don't try to shirk them. I have friends... Fortunately, many of them share this activity, but a few do not... How do I include them in my life? It's difficult when I need to get a workout in, go to work at 7am, and sleep 7-8 hours a night (which I rarely do).

I like to have a drink or two occasionally, I like to do non-triathlon things, non-running things, and activities that are not related to either of my main hobbies - like golfing, skiing, softball, hockey, etc....

By that account, I'm recreational as an Ironman athlete. I have a slim to no chance of ever sitting atop a podium (though I will keep trying ;)), or making any money off prizes or endorsements, save the occasional free pair of socks... And there are at least 2300 people this year who are like me, who all set out to do the Ironman, and who all have a life they have to live that has little to do with Ironman...

Nope, we don't run for money or recognition, just for passion. This is a true labour of love that we embark on and I know this, because the first thing I thought about after I finished is, "wait until next year". I have developed a self-discipline and commitment to making this a part of my life. I almost never missed a planned workout this year, except for when I broke my thumb. I am making it my goal to not miss a planned workout next year. Some days it is tough to get off the couch, but when I sit there, watching a sitcom and staring at my laptop, hoping someone MSN's me or I get an e-mail to prolong my procrastination, I start to think of how much I really love that feeling of being at the starting line, the preparation the few days before, and how much fun it is when you go out for a ride and really feel a flow, or a lake swim, or a nice long run in the trails.

Then I have a reason to get moving.

I have a few friends who are in the same boat, training for the Ironman, or ultramarathons, or something of that nature, with whom I can share this burden of training during my waking hours, when others are out getting ready to hit the clubs. These are the folks I can confide in when I don't feel quite "right", because they say "c'mon, just get out for a quick run and you'll feel better". We support each other, and keep each other balanced in life. I have a few friends like that. I think that my future partner-to-be will be someone who shares those values and can be part of this experience.

Mostly, this year, I like feeling like I earned my spot at the starting line. I really felt, walking up to the water before 7am, that I had put a year of solid effort into making sure I got here. I had weathered some personal tragedies, depression, heart-breaks and heart-aches, injury, flat tires, flat shoes, job changes, other uncertainties.

I also celebrated many highs, like:

• a 32 minute personal best at the Osoyoos Half Ironman, with a killer bike split (despite a bike crash) and a 2 minute personal best swim split.
• Finishing two marathons after not having run one marathon since 2003.
• Some small placings at running races that let me know I was getting back on track.
• Finding a new coach with whom I feel I can reach new heights in the future.
• Meeting Lisa Bentley and learning some really great lessons from her.
• Being on the Ironcops Team and making some great friendships and connections, both in B.C. and with the team from Edmonton.
• Some great road trips with friends for races and camps, with Dominique and Natalie for the Victoria Half Ironman, Michael and Rachel for the Osoyoos Half Ironman, Lenka for the Ironcops camp, and Dominique and Pascal for the Ironman weekend. All great trips with some fond memories and stories along the way.
• Watching Karen, from Ironcops, finish the Ironman!
• Floating down the canal with the Ironcops team on the Tuesday after.
• My brother's wedding. My brother and his wife's news of a baby on the way...

And so many people along the way that made it so special for me...

(notice how my list of highlights is longer!)

I wrote a sometimes self-indulgent, introspective account of this year on this blog. I know, sometimes it really is just about me. I guess that's my prerogative, since it's my journal, but I also wanted to bring out some of the realities of what it is like to train for Ironman. I think the thing I realize most is that life continues, despite the fact that I want it to remain static while I trained. Things continued to happen, people evolved, friends moved on thinking I was too absorbed with this childish quest to have time for them. Life happens... In any story. Nothing is completely free of complication. In fact, I think that if Ironman were just about training and saving up for the weekend, then it wouldn't be worth doing. It's the fact that I have to work, live with others, relate to my friends, try to go out on a date once and a while, and plan for the future, that makes it worthwhile to train for the Ironman. Next year will be a completely different story. I may have more things to add about life outside of training, or maybe less.

As I move into the next phase of my Ironman journey, I realize that this really has only just begun to flesh itself out. I thought the story might end after this Ironman, but I can firmly say that it does not. A lot of what I do in this, I confess, involves a certain level of selfishness. A lot of this is for my own personal fulfillment. My parents are proud of me for doing this, but would rather I didn't... My family thinks I am borderline obsessive, and most of my non-triathlon friends sometimes get involved but it is rare. Still, I think I am a better person for it. I have managed to avoid skipping out on the "important things" in life. Family trips and weddings were never missed this year. My family have a dinner every Sunday evening that I rarely missed and, if so, it was because I was coming back from a race (and I still made it, just a little late). I took no work days off for training, save the weekend of Ironman, which I had planned to take off even before I HAD a job to take off from. I went to bed a little earlier, especially as the summer hit and training became more of a priority, but for the most part I was out with friends whenever the opportunity arose. I volunteered for my Fraternity and on many weekends was out of town on business, but I still went, and I still did what I needed to do.

In truth, I think that the Ironman really saved me this year. I don't know if I was made for safe havens. I don't think I was ever meant to take things easy. I create memories and have found spiritual lights in a lot of my racing this year. I truly have come to terms with the power of living with intention and purpose, and trusting that the universe will provide what you need. That girl on the side of the road at Ironman was the final nail in the truth for me. Nothing will replace the loss of my grandfather this year, but I feel his presence, and my grandma's, and my family and friends who left me this year and in the past, when I race. It's like I have angels overhead, guiding me towards the next turn, and shaking me when I stray too far off the path (read into that "don't take a corner too fast or out of control or you'll pay for it...").

The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet
And whither then? I cannot say.--- J. R. R. Tolkien

I guess I call this the end of chapter one, but the beginning of chapter two. I'm going to be spending the next month re-energizing and re-charging. I can't, and wouldn't, take the month off completely, as I have the Portland Marathon coming up on October 1st. After that, I will have a few weeks to sit down with my coach, Dean Stanton, and start plotting out the next year. I'll start back with swimming in mid-October, and also get in some boxing workouts and weight training as I head into winter. I do plan to get skiing this winter, at least to break things up a bit, and to get into yoga.

I have new travel companions this year. Michael has signed up for Ironman, and I think that will be a great benefit throughout the year, as we push each other. The competition is really about myself, but I also think it helps having someone else to work alongside with. I have a second year with Dean to coach me, and I made some great strides this year, especially in swimming and biking.

And, who knows, there is a whole year of life ahead. I'm a single guy, so there could be some dating, or something more permanent, in my future. I have started a new job, and have built up a good writing habit - some might say a little long-winded but that's what editors are for! - and have some business ideas... I have a garage to finish building and a new nephew or niece on the way... Some things are already being planned and, for others, the story has yet to be written. I'm ready to get started, though!

"Recovery is overrated..." - Jim Vernon

"Good to be back"...

I read a great article by Gordo Byrn, this year's 3rd place mens finisher at Ironman Canada, at Xtri.com...

Here's a link to the article:

http://www.xtri.com/article.asp?id=1845

More in pictures...

A great picture from the swim course... More to come!

Running on empty...

I entered into transition feeling strong... to my great amazement. I had none of the back pain or tight muscles that I had experienced, or remembered experiencing, four years ago. I took off my bike shorts and put on my running tri-shorts. I also took the opportunity to empty out the back of my tri jersey of all the bike pieces- CO2 cartridges, empty wrappers, etc. - so I could start off as light as possible. I left T2 and grabbed some sunscreen and some Gatorade, and headed out on the road.

This year, the course was altered slightly at the beginning to include an out-and-back along Lakeshore Drive at the beginning AND at the end of the run. So, I was able to catch a glimpse at what finishing the race would look like in about four hours. Not only that, but Jasper Blake, the men's winner, was running down Lakeshore Drive just as I was. So, I had the lead vehicle in front of me and quite a crowd of people cheering on Jasper - that was enough to get me going, but also a little unnerving because he was finishing his run just as I was starting mine. This was, indeed, going to be a long night.

I reached the turnaround at Lakeshore and started back, catching glimpses of my mom and dad and uncle as I ran past. I was in good spirits at this point as I went up to Main Street and headed up the road towards Skaha Lake.

I had a pretty decent pace going for the first 2-3 miles, stopping at the aid stations for water and Gatorade and taking a quick sip of my Clif shots, which were mixed up in my Fuel Belt flask, which I was holding in my hand. I kept my arms moving and had about a 9 minute/mile pace for the first 3 miles. I was happy with that, as if I could keep it going I'd have about a 2 hour 1/st half.

I was becoming more aware of the heat and sun beating down on us. I hadn't noticed it as much before but it was definitely part of the race now. The wind had also picked up off of Skaha Lake and was blowing into us all, a fortunate circumstance IF that same wind would be at our backs coming home later.

I passed by Kerri, one of my Ironcops teammates, and she and I started running together a little. I was starting to feel a little of the fatigue of having rode a bike for the past 6 hours, but it didn't seem to be too much. We approached the 8-9 mile marker and I found myself walking a little more at the aid stations, maybe a little too long for comfort. As I started running again, my head got quite light, and I started to feel a little feint. I looked at my heart rate and it was not going up, but I also thought it was time to walk a little more, and run a little slower. By now my average pace was at about 11 minutes/mile.

Miles 1-5 had gone by fairly well, given all that had happened.

Miles 6-8 were starting to be a struggle. Around Mile 7 I saw Mark Shorter on his mountain bike, and said a quick hello. He rode up to me and gave me some good advice, told me to drop my arms a little and relax them, to shake out the lactic acid. And to keep my head up and looking forward. I wanted to keep my body straight. But I was definitely wasted. I couldn't walk, though, with Mark there. I had to be running with him around and that spurned me on another mile.

As I approached the 10 mile mark I was passed by Patty, and then by John F. They both were having good looking, strong days on the course. And I was excited to see them. I tried to run with John, and kept with him until the 13.1 mile mark, as we approached the OK Falls turnaround. My head was getting lighter and lighter, and I was starting to feel feint again. I stopped and walked a little. Then, when I tried to start running again, I felt that nauseous feeling, like a head rush.

Okay... Keep walking then. I thought this as I started back up the hill. I couldn't talk, really, as I was also completely out of breath. Bill, from Dean's coaching, passed by my while walking as well, and then Tavis. I was still walking. I walked by a girl named Helene, from New Brunswick, who started walking with me and told me she had actually told the race officials that she was done, but that was a while ago and, since nobody had come by, she had decided to start walking again.

We stayed together for miles 15-22. I could not talk much, and decided to abandon the Gatorade and Clif shots, and go instead for some real food. I picked out grapes, pretzels, chicken broth, etc. and just ate those at the aid stations. I needed something a little more sustainable, as I was still feeling quite out of it. One foot in front of the other, I told myself. Helene was talking and, at one point, thought my lack of response was because I wanted to be alone. Far from it, I just couldn't talk.

Ambulances and support vehicles kept passing by, and all I could think about was making sure I stuck with moving forward so that I would not become one of the many folks who would need to be picked up. And the carnage on the road, today, was massive. All told, about 400 athletes were pulled off the course. I was one of the lucky ones who kept going.

Dale, Kerry's 18 year old son, caught up to me and said he wanted to make sure he broke 14 hours. So, he sped ahead. I knew if we were going to break 14 hours we'd have to get running at some point as well. It was getting darker, and the setting sun was a blessing as it cooled the air a little, making it easier to breath and also allowing us to quicken our walking strides.

We approached the 20 mile mark and made the final decision to run from 22-26 miles. So, we gave ourselves about 2 miles to get ready for it. I was starting to feel a lot better, and the sun had gone down.

As we approached the 22nd mile, we were walking at 16 minute/mile pace. I was ready to get going, but Helene couldn't. The only thing I was worried about was passing out, but now it seemed like I would be okay, since the cooler air felt a lot better in my head and stomach. I started to jog, and mile 22 began with a slight incline. Well, it was slight if you hadn't already been out here for 12 hours. It was a little more than a slight hill for me. I picked up my arms and started taking quick running steps up the hill. My speed was increasing and I was leading a small breakaway group that had caught up to me while I was walking. I made it to the top of the hill and lost my breath again. I had to walk. So I started in, and saw my Brother, Steve, and Coach Dean, on the side of the road.

They both came up and started walking with me. Steve was on the left and Dean on the right. It was good to have them there. I kept walking as I didn't feel right enough to run yet. Then Steve ran ahead to find a phone, and Dean left to go see how others were doing. I was alone again. Helene caught up and I walked with her for a couple of minutes. Then I said "I want to run in... Can you?" She said she couldn't. Her body was falling apart. I decided I had to let her go and run the rest of the race, my way. I wasn't going to walk into town. I was going to come in running.

At mile 23, I started running again. I kept it slow and steady, and let my feeling determine my speed. But I was picking it up, and as I hit mile 24 I was in a full running stride. I was coming down Main Street and all the crowds, and those really started to pick me up again. I was running a 10k effort as I approached the left turn at Westminster Ave.

I passed people left and right, reminiscent of the bike ride, and found myself feeling incredible again. As if I had a new life. I ran down Westminster and was so excited I almost made a right turn on Martin instead of running one more block to Winnipeg. Then I saw the mass of crowds on Winnipeg Ave. I ran by and heard people shouting out my name. I don't know who was friend and who was a stranger, but I passed by the 25 mile marker with a burst of energy and speed, like no other. I ran out along Lakeshore Drive, anticipating the turnaround and longing for the event to be over. I was also looking for my family and friends on the side of the road. Last time, I had stopped to hug them.

This time, though, as I hit the turn, I saw the lights of the finish line about a kilometer away. I hadn't finished in the dark before, but I would this time. I ran down Lakeshore and saw Paul H., who started to run with me. I was in full stride and couldn't talk, so I just kept motoring towards the blue carpet. As we approached the finish I could see someone in front of me. I wanted to cross fast but I also realized I wouldn't get to finish by myself if I did, so I slowed down and let him cross, and waited for the kids to bring the ribbon across again for me. Then I walked through, and into the welcoming arms of the volunteers, there to help keep me from falling and also to make sure I was okay.

I was taken over to the finish area, where I thought for sure I'd need to lie down and get some IV's put in me. But amazingly they didn't hook me up. I did need to sit, though. I was given Gatorade and a sandwich. I was also given some cantelope. I saw "Bridge", one of the Edmonton Ironcops, sitting down on the grass and congratulated him. Then I saw a few more of the Edmonton Ironcops team. I really had felt a great bond with a lot of these guys from the Penticton weekend and the Edmonton camp, and to see them all around the finish area at the same time was special. We sat around for a few minutes and shared our war stories of the day. To be honest, a lot of it is still quite hazy for me.

But I had finished....

And I couldn't have been happier.

I came through strong in the end, but I definitely struggled for the better part of the run. I had a lot of dizziness and nausea along the way that I couldn't figure out, especially because of my burst at the final 3 miles. Something had gone wrong on my run that I would have to dissect and figure out.

But that was all for later. Now, it was time to celebrate, and to reunite with friends and family who had stuck by the entire day. I went into the transition area, grabbed my bags and bike, and headed out of transition to see my family.

And to celebrate the completion of Ironman #2.