Ironman Western Australia Race Report

What a fantastic event! Definitely the best organized and most well run Ironman-brand race I've done. No surprise that it always sells out and sees a ton of people coming back year after year. I'd certainly like to do it again in 2024.

Race day started with a huge pancake breakfast the day before, and I do mean huge. Three giant pancakes topped with white chocolate mousse, shredded almonds, and dark chocolate ganache. Not sure this is what Mary, my former coach, had in mind when she gave me her famous day-before-race-day fueling advice (eat as many pancakes as you can....then have one more), but who cares. I was going to burn many thousands of calories the next day; some chocolate won't hurt. :)

Alarm went off at 4am, and I was already awake to silence it. Like most people, I don't sleep much the night before a big race. I wandered into the kitchen arounds 410 for a bowl of rice with soy sauce. I tried this as pre-race fuel in Salalah at the suggestion of my training partner, and it worked like a charm. Simple and easy to digest, extra salt from the soy sauce, and plenty of carbs to top off the tank. After any number of toilet breaks, I changed into my race kit for the day (Roka trisuit) and left for the race village shortly after 5. I had my favorite CW-X compression shorts in my Run bag in case the trisuit chafed too much during the bike, but barring that kind of catastrophe, I planned to wear the suit all day long.

I reached my bike in transition around 530 and had my first "oops" of the day when I realized I left the 1.5L bottle of water intended to fill top my hydration system in the fridge. Thankfully, I had a bottle of water in my bag to use to drink from before the swim and sacrificed that. I managed to snag a bottle from one of the local tri clubs on my way to the swim, so it all worked out in the end. There was not much to do in transition other than place nutrition bottles and helmet on the bike, start my bike computer and leave it on auto-pause (one less thing to have to remember when heading out for the bike leg), and check my tires. I wanted to ride with a lower pressure than normal because as we learned during our course recon a few days earlier, the road surface in some areas is fairly rough chipseal. Once that was done, I made one last trip to toilet and made my way over to the swim start. I put the lower half of my wetsuit on right outside transition because the weather was chilly - 60 degrees, 15-20 knot winds with gusts to 30, and solid cloud cover. Upon seeing hundreds of others shivering on the beach, I thought better of getting in the water for a few practice strokes. Popped a gel at 635, gun went off at 645, and I was in the water 5-6 minutes later. 

The sea in Busselton was perfect - cool, clear, and flat. I saw a few people not wearing wetsuits, and I'm not sure why. The free speed is worth way more than the 1-2 minutes spent taking it off in transition, especially if you're able to get it down halfway before you get there. My plan for the swim was to go steady, not hard, and come in between 1:10-1:20. Starting close to the front of the race allowed me to find plenty of people to draft off of along the way, though I had to leave a few when they started to meander away from the rhumb line. A 3.8km swim is already long enough, no sense in making it longer. I threw down a gel during the Aussie exit in about the middle of the swim. Wasn't sure I really needed it, but it worked really well during the Oceanman Worlds back in October. I came out of the water in 1:14 and made my way into T1, including a climb up and down a temporary overpass across part of the run course. That wasn't much fun.

T1: my transition was pretty efficient. Once I got my wetsuit off, I dumped out my bag and followed my mental checklist: dry and wipe sand off feet. sock, shoe, sock shoe. Apply extra chamois cream. Sunglasses on. Stuff wetsuit into bag. Stuff goggles and cap into bag. Hand bag to very helpful volunteer. Sunscreen on arms and back of neck. Jog to bike. Took maybe 8 minutes from exit of the swim to crossing the line with my bike, a marked improvement over IMFL, and yet I didn't feel rushed or stressed to go any faster.

Remember that wind mentioned above? Well, I kinda forgot about it until the first time I dropped into aero. Holy shit, it was frightening! I popped back up immediately to settle my nerves and convince myself that while I'm not the best bike handler in the world, I am good enough to stay upright in these kind of conditions. (Morgan Freeman narrator voice: he would have that same mental conversation for the next 180km) The relentless wind made the bike course very difficult for me because there were not many places on course where I could settle into a groove and focus on being smooth. Every out and back section of the route was in some kind of crosswind, with only the last 10km into town on each of the two laps being a real tailwind. When we were riding along the shore, the wind was constant and somewhat manageable. When we were in the national forest, the trees would block much of the breeze. When a gap in the trees appeared, though, all hell broke loose as you got hit with a blast from the side and stiffened up to keep rolling in a straight line. 

My nutrition on the bike was 14 scoops of Tailwind in a super-concentrated bottle. At 2 scoops per hour normally, I thought that would be plenty. My computer is set to remind me to feed every 20 minutes, and I stuck to that plan all day. Unfortunately, I ran out of Tailwind with about 65km to go and had to stop for a few minutes at an aid station to mix in some more. Most of it went in the bottle, but the wind blew some of the powder all over the bike, leaving it quite sticky for the rest of the leg. At the next aid station, I dumped water all over the bars to at least get them and my hands more comfortable.

My power target for the bike was 150 watts. The plan went out the window almost immediately due to the wind. I couldn't concentrate hard enough on the watts while trying to keep the bike steady and stable underneath me. That said, I was shocked to see my time after the first loop was 3:00 on an average power of 143. While it was far too early in the day to start in on the math to calculate my finishing time, knowing I was right on target for the 6-hour bike I wanted was a nice mental boost.

The second lap was just like the first, though I felt more at home in the wind because I was learning how to deal with it better as I went along. Nothing really hurt or was uncomfortable until somewhere after the fourth hour had elapsed. That's when my brain started arguing with itself over we have only two hours left vs. we still have two hours left. I suppose the one advantage of the wind is that it focused all of the tension and muscle stress into my upper back and neck, meaning I didn't have the opportunity to pay much attention to how my ass was hurting from being in the same position all day. There are no real breaks from aero position on this course. No hills, no inclines, no downhills, nothing at all to allow you to sit up and get a break. It's constant pedaling at roughly the same rpm all day long, and that gets pretty taxing. I made it through the second loop in 3:02, again better than expected especially considering the stop to refill the Tailwind. 6 hours and 2 minutes after I left, I was back in transition for T2.

T2 took about the same time as T1. It felt longer because part of T1 was the run up to the changing tent from the beach. I tried again to be as efficient as possible getting out of my cycling socks and shoes and into my running ones. Took one gel before I loaded my trisuit pockets with the other gels and fuel. Then came the hat followed by the suncream. Last was putting on the sunglasses and heading out. A quick cup of water and off I went, only a marathon left to go.

For the last hour or so on the bike, I couldn't wait to get off my bike and onto the run, and now it was finally here. This is where I know I can perform exactly as I want to, though in this case, I started a bit too fast. My strategy was to keep my HR in the 140-145 range for as long as possible without letting my pace drop off. First 3 miles were below 9:30/mile with my HR in the 145-146 range. I backed off slightly to make sure it didn't creep up any higher. The first loop of the four passed very quickly with pace in the 9:40s and HR steady at 145. The clouds and wind were still very present, which was a blessing. It was 75 when I started the run which is pretty warm. Had the full sun been out, it would've been a miserable marathon for all of us. 

As much as I dislike looped courses, I found myself enjoying this one. Maybe because there were thousands of spectators along much of the course screaming and yelling and cheering words of support to all the athletes. Throw in a few DJs (one even taking requests) and people sitting out in front of their houses playing tunes ranging from rock to pop to Christmas Carols (enjoyable but not very motivational), and there were not many stretches where something wasn't happening. The surface on most of the course was excellent, although there were a few places on the road where the camber was severe. I felt my left hip ping every once in a while and made sure to keep to the center of the road when possible to avoid any potential issues. 

The temperature cooled off slightly during the second lap, taking with my HR along with it. I averaged in the 9:40s again with my HR now 139-141. Two down, one to go, and I took my first peek at my watch. The first half took me ~2:08. I figured if I could hold that for the second half, I stood a pretty good chance of coming in under 12 hours. I even snuck glance at the total race time screen a little while later to see when it hit 10 hours of racing time, which happened with about 11.5 miles left. Some basic math told me I could run 11-minute miles and hit 12 right on the dot, not that I wanted to do that. 

During the third loop, I really noticed how much salt I was losing. My black kit was now at least 50% white from the waist down. There was so much salt on my upper legs I could've used it instead of my BASE salt to keep my sodium levels up. I can't wait for the race photos to be released so I can see the progression from the first to the last lap. Maybe 1/4 mile from the end of the lap, Team Flying Dutchman all came together. Inalize caught me as she was finishing her race, and about 25 meters later, I caught Mirjam. I was in a groove at this point and gave her a "hi, looking good, bye bye," as I went past. Lap three complete with 9:50 miles and HR around 141/142.

I stopped caring about my HR during the fourth lap and ran by feel instead. Apparently I felt good because mile 21 came in at 9:19. As I made the u-turn at the short end of the course for the last time, I thanked the marshal for being out there all day (same woman had been standing in the same spot each time I went by) and told her I was sorry (not sorry) I wouldn't see her again. She laughed and got all her friends to join in a "last lap" celebration for me. The volunteers and supporters at this race went above and beyond the whole day. A little while later, I made hit the turnaround at the long end and took off for the finish a little over 2 miles away. Mile 25 - 9:25. Mile 26 - 9:26. I was smiling, pumping my fists, and enjoying every bit of the crowd support. Left turn for the finish, and then another left onto the red carpet. There was no one in front of me, and I made the most of the moment to fly down the chute in true Flying Dutchman fashion. And then I was done!! My second IM complete! I crushed my 12-hour goal with an 11:52!!! 

The volunteer who caught me gave me my medal, my finisher towel, and asked if I was good. I looked kinda sideways at her, and she chuckled as she said "okay, you just raced and Ironman. Maybe good is not the right word." I assured her I felt fine as she walked me into the recovery tent, found me a cup of cold coke, and then went to get my street clothes bag for me. Have I mentioned enough how incredible the volunteers at this race are? 

I'll save the post-race details for later and drop in a few bits about my fueling during the race instead. I ate and drank a ton, and thankfully my stomach never complained or revolted. 

Swim - one gel before the start, one during the Aussie exit

Bike - 14 scoops of Tailwind, one additional pack at ~115km. One sip from the bottle every 20 minutes. Water when prompted by the bike computer or when thirsty.

Run - gel in T2. One gel every 40-45 minutes until I ran out, then one pack of Sport Beans at mile 22. Water at every aid station, usually two cups. Gatorade at every aid station. 3 licks of BASE salt every hour or when I could feel I needed it.

Salalah 70.3 Race Report

Salalah is a small town on the southwest coast of Oman developing itself into a resort destination for the region. It's in a unique location with the Indian Ocean on one side and lush mountains complete with waterfalls on the other. The race was held in the middle of the resort area with the swim in the protected marina, bike northeast along the coastal road, and run in the opposite direction. With less than 800 people entered, this felt more like a local race than a big international Ironman event, which meant there was plenty of room in transition and always a friendly face out on the course.

Swim:
My swim started poorly. Got kicked in the face and my goggle's left eye kept filling up with water. Took me several stops and several hundred meters before I could get it properly back into place without continual leaking. Once I sorted that out, I felt strong and composed. I intentionally never really pushed too hard because I knew the sun was coming out and taking off a minute or two wouldn’t help me in the end. Didn’t hit the watch for transition until I was already into T1, probably in the tent. Time: 36 minutes

T1:
Dried feet. Sock, shoe, sock, shoe. Sunglasses. Helmet. Belt. Stuff swim kit into bag. Fast walk to bike and away we go. Seriously, this transition area was smaller than some of our local races in Dubai. Time: 4 minutes

Bike:
Heading out was fast and fun thanks to a 15-20knot tailwind. I aimed to keep mypower in the 155-165 range (zone 2) on average with the hills. No matter what this race organizers said, this is not a flat course. Total elevation was ~420 meters. The return was mentally tough. It's really frustrating to be going so slow back to T2 (38-40 kmh on the way out, under 25 on the return), but I knew I couldn't push it. The day was heating up fast, and I knew a half marathon would crush me if I started out too depleted from the bike leg. Time: 2:58

T2:
Rack bike. Helmet undone. Grab bag. Shoes on. Eat gel. Change sunglasses. Put on water bottle belt. Stuff bag. Drop bag. Pee in porta potty. Away we go. Time: 4 minutes

Run:
My plan for the run was pretty simple. First 5k aim for HR under 152. Second 5k under 155. Third 5k under 160. Last 5k under 167 with a harder push the last 2k. I dumped several bottles of water over my head at every aid station. I stuffed wet sponges behind my neck at every aid station. I dropped ice down back of my trip suit whenever possible. I ended up fueling much more than I normally would (Gel at mile 4.5, 7.5, and 10.5-ish) because the sun was draining, and I kept topped up on my BASE salt too. Thankfully, my plan worked like a charm. I was firmly in control running easy and steady the entire time. Passing all the people who overbiked was a nice treat. Time: 2:06

Total time: 5:50

This was a much tougher race than any of us expected. We knew it would be warm, but the heat and the humidity were stifling by late morning. I wanted to push harder on the bike on the way back, and I'm glad I didn't. If you went too hard on the bike, you died on the run. Practicing staying easy and in control was a good mental exercise for Busselton. My only complaint about the race is the decision I made to skip the awards ceremony. I didn't think slots for the worlds in Finland would roll all the way down to my lowly 14th place. Narrator voice: they did  Lesson learned - always go and see what happens.

vEveresting, Part 1 - Training

“FIENDISHLY SIMPLE, YET BRUTALLY HARD.

EVERESTING IS THE MOST DIFFICULT

CLIMBING CHALLENGE IN THE WORLD.”

Those are the words that greet you when you first visit the Everesting web site. The concept is very basic: climb the height of Everest (8848m) on one hill during one activity with no sleep and no time limit, You ride up and down and up and down for as many times and as many hours as it takes to reach 8848m of ascent. Pretty simple, right? Like the site says, don't forget about the brutally hard part. 

Everesting has been getting a lot of press recently thanks to all the pro cyclists giving it a try. With racing canceled this spring and summer due to covid, more than a few of them took up the challenge as a way to try something new while keeping busy during lockdown. Mark Cavendish, known more for his sprinting than his climbing ability, took 10 hours to do it back in May, Alberto Contador knocked it out in under 7.5 hours a few weeks ago, and three days ago, a former elite cyclist in Ireland set a world record of 7:04. 

We didn't set out to Everest because the pros were doing it, but just like them, we needed something to train for after our 70.3 in Oman in September was canceled. We'd been riding together on Zwift and Zoom almost every day since the quarantine began in March, and when we heard our race was off the calendar, our motivation went with it. Sitting around at breakfast one day after a sea swim in early June, Matt and I started talking about what else we could do to keep busy during the summer and the idea of Everesting came up. I thought it sounded fun and tough and something I honestly didn't have any intention of participating in. I don't see myself as a particularly strong cyclist and I'm a terrible climber. Plus, could I really get physically prepared for something of the magnitude in just six weeks? I had my doubts. Still, I asked Trace and Barb to switch my training plan and told everyone I'd try a few climbs and see how it went.

Our first task was to acquaint ourselves with the rules for a virtual Everesting. They're basically the same as for Everesting outside with one key restriction: the difficulty on the trainer must be set at 100%. This is done to ensure you feel the pain of the gradients on the climb with exactly the same gearing that you'd be using outdoors. Next step required us to choose our hill. There are any number of hills and mountains in Zwift which can be used for virtual Everesting, with the two most popular being the Alpe du Zwift (8.5 laps) and the Epic KOM Reverse (~20 laps). The Alpe is longer, steeper, and more challenging, but it has one big advantage: you can get off your bike for about 10 minutes to stretch, eat, and refuel while your avatar makes the descent, no pedaling required. The Epic Reverse has two short and steep uphill segments on the way down which require you to get back on your bike and pedal. Your avatar can't freewheel all the way down, but the tradeoff is a shorter and less steep climb on the way up. 

Everyone else jumped straight to the Alpe as their chosen route. I opted to try both of them during training to see which one I thought I could handle better. Friday June 12th was the first test ride, consisting of 2 x Alpe du Zwift climbs. I was pretty terrified starting out. The Alpe du Zwift is a spot-on GPS recreation of the L'Alpe d'Huez in southeastern France. I've watched enough of the Tour de France to see the pros struggle up it time and again, and if they're having difficulty, how in the world was I going to get up it once, let alone multiple times back-to-back? Much to my surprise, I completed both climbs, the first in 94 minutes and the second in just under 91. My aim going in was to be cautious and keep my HR at or around 140bpm for the first climb because I had no idea how it would feel. In a word, it felt tough! 12-14% inclines at 100% trainer difficulty are no joke. I was in my granny gear nearly the entire time and still struggled to align my HR, cadence, and power in a reasonable fashion. During the second lap, I knew it was my last for the day and let my HR and power both drift up from my comfort zone. HR averaged 156 vs 139 during the first climb, power was 156 vs 146. I knew I couldn't sustain the kind of effort over 8.5 climbs, but it was a nice confidence boost to know I could get up the mountain twice in a row. 

I also learned I'd need more gears if I was going to attempt to Everest on the Alpe. The 28t in the back is not enough for me for that kind of climbing. Before making any changes, though, I gave the Epic Reverse a go the following week. As expected, this route was much easier effort-wise than the Alpe. Each of the six laps took about 45-47 minutes to get up and back down, and I could use more than one or two gears during the climbing. As nice as the Epic Reverse felt physically, I decided it was not the best choice for me for Everesting.

Not being able to get off the bike for 10 minutes to refuel meant I'd have to add an extra break after each 2-3 laps which would only serve to add more time to what I knew would be a very long day. The free time was worth the extra suffering during each climb of the Alpe, and if i could find a way to minimize the suffering, so much the better. The next day, I brought my bike and trainer to the Cycle Hub, where I'd found a guy who Everested on a local mountain in 2019. He knew exactly why I wanted to change my gearing and hooked me up with a 32t cassette and the long cage OSPW needed to make it work with my existing derailleur. 

Over the next few weeks, our big Friday rides became progressively longer with an additional 1000m of climbing added to each one. June 26th was 3.5 climbs and 3531m, and on July 3, three weeks before the big day, I made it to virtual Basecamp with 4424m ascent. Had only planned on completing four, but my friends convinced me on Zoom that an extra few hundred meters of climbing was no big thing. This was a big deal for me. Even if I tried and failed during the Everesting attempt, at least I'd made it halfway and gotten my first badge in the Hall of Fame.  

My peak training ride was on July 10th - 5 ascents of the Alpe which took almost 10 hours. During this last big ride, I focused on my strategies for fueling and making the most of the 10 minutes of the bike after each climb. My primary fuel source was Tailwind. I settled on drinking 1-2 bottles during each climb with each bottle containing 200-300 calories. During the descent, I supplemented the Tailwind with salted potatoes (a favorite from my ultra marathons), sliced smoked turkey wrapped around string cheese (a trick I discovered when reading about other Everesting rides), potato chips, Clif bars, and chocolate cookies. Basically, I tried to take in a mixture of carbs and protein in various forms because I knew that during the attempt, my desire to eat any one particular food will not always be guaranteed. 

With July 24 as the date for our attempt, the next two weeks were spent tapering and resting up for the big day, 

Dopey Challenge Race Report (5k and 10k)

5k
The 5k is my favorite of the four races making up Dopey. Not because I love the course (a boring stretch of parking lot followed by a nice run through Epcot), but because it starts at 6 instead of 530, allowing for some extra time to sleep in. Sleep is important during Dopey. As anyone who's done it will tell you, it's not the miles that are the hard part; it's the four early morning alarms. If an Ironman is a bike race with a swim to warm up and a jog to the finish wrapped around an eating contest, Dopey is a few days of running wrapped around a sleep deprivation exercise.

Keels drove us over to the start, getting us a nice space in the lot closest to the corrals. We took our time wandering over to the race, and by the time we did, corral A had already been released to the start line. I ended up in the back few rows of the corral, only a few meters in front of the tape marking the first row of corral B. The race itself was nothing special, though running through World Showcase in the dark was as good as ever. I ran easy, never felt too crowded, took a picture in front of the ball, and finished in 28 minutes.

10k
Just like the 5k, Keels worked her magic parking skills to get us a place in the front lot again, this time in the front row. Our walk to the corrals took maybe five minutes, and this time, we arrived before A had been released. I still ended up in the back, which was fine with me. Having the fast people head out before me meant a relatively open road with not much congestion during the race.

I love the 10k course because you run through World Showcase; around Boardwalk, Yacht Club, and Beach Club; and back into Epcot again on the way to the finish. Lots of nice scenery and things to look at to make up for the time spent on the road and in the parking lot. I stopped for a few pictures, and more importantly, I stopped for a beer. Keels' friends Mercedes and Angela were outside Beach Club with a bag of beer, though they wouldn't give one to me until they checked my name and number on my bib against their records. Good to see them protecting our supply against all the other people looking for a cold IPA at 615 in the morning. I didn't run very hard during this race, obviously, in order to save myself for a proof of time effort on Saturday.

Keels says I need to work on my product placement skills.
If I don't get the label turned towards the camera, no brewery will want to sponsor me

IMFL Wrap-up, Stats, and Final Thoughts

Here are some fun and maybe interesting stats, pictures, videos, and random thoughts about the race looking back on it four weeks later. Some are information people have asked to see, others are answers to questions I've been asked, and some are here simply because I want them to be. :)

Training Stats
Meters in the pool – 219,329
Longest swim – 5000 meters
Miles ridden on the trainer with Zwift – 2524
Longest Zwift ride – 6.5 hours
Miles on the treadmill – 239
Longest run in the parking lot – 18 miles
Pairs of Asics Kayanos – 3
Toenails lost – 0
Pounds lost – 12

Race Fueling
1 Clif bar after waking up
1 Clif gel 10 minutes pre-race
¼ Clif bar in T1
2 700-800 calorie bottles of Tailwind on the bike
1 200 calorie bottle of Tailwind on the bike
1 sleeve Clif bloks on the run
Potato chips, chicken broth, and coke on the run
Water as needed on the bike and run

Garmin data
Swim
Bike
Run

Google Earth view of the bike leg

My video highlights

Official Race Day Video (you can find me at 7:42 and 8:50)

Answers to Common Questions
Q1: Did you have fun?
A1: I had a blast! My race day went better than I imagined it would, and my execution during the day was just about perfect. I felt great the entire day and never once wanted to quit.

Q2: How was the recovery?
A2: I recovered from this much faster than from Comrades. I was exhausted for several days after the race, but I didn't feel as physically beat up as I did in South Africa. I was able to walk the next day, which wasn't really possible following Comrades.

Q3: When are you getting your M-dot tattoo?
A3: I'm not. If Gabe can work up a swim/bike/run design which fits in with the others on my arms, I might do that, but an M-dot itself is not for me.

Q3: Will you do another one?
A3: Definitely. I've got unfinished business, which I know sounds weird considering I just said my race day execution was nearly perfect. In hindsight, I see places where I can save time (no more 25 minutes in transition, and fewer stops on the bike and run legs) and go faster. Mary said I didn't trust my fitness enough, and she's right. I could have pushed higher power on the bike and brought my time down by 45-50 minutes, and I probably could have done the same thing on the run. Keeping my heart rate in low Z2 instead of high Z1 would have gained me another 5-10 minutes. Add all those bits and pieces up and a 12-hour finish looks possible. Not a given, but definitely possible.

IMFL Race Report, Part II - Race Day

Pre-start:
My alarm went off at 430am, but I was already awake. Mary gave me these instructions in my pre-race brief: 'You won't want to eat. Tough. Eat anyway." She knows me too well. I reluctantly ate half a Clif bar and opened a bottle of Powerade. The next 50 minutes were spent sitting on the couch trying to wrap my mind around what I was about to do, sipping on my drink, and running to the bathroom. Holly and I left the condo at 525 to drive to the race. She dropped me off at the run turnaround point where they were collecting the special needs bags for the bike and the run. I handed mine over and walked over to transition. I pumped up my tires, filled my aero bottle with water and put my Tailwind bottle and extra water bottle into their cages, hit the porta-potty (surprisingly short line), and went to find Holly. Our meeting point was at the first trash can to the right of the walkway exit onto the beach, and she was there waiting for me.

Rather than try to get into my wet suit on the beach and end up covering myself in sand, we squeezed our way through the crowd on the walkway and found a convenient corner to stand in. I covered my neck, arms, and shoulders with Body Glide and Tri Slide, and put my wet suit on about 15 minutes before the start. There was a slight moment of panic when I got the sleeves on and realized I hadn't started the zipper first. My Huub suit has a two-piece zipper like on a jacket which needs to be fed into itself before it gets zipped up from the lower back, and it's very tough to do get it started while wearing the suit. Thankfully, Holly got it zipped after a few minutes of struggling, and my heart rate returned to normal.

Stuffed in and zipped up

Keels had found us by this time, and after my pre-race gel, the three of us walked down to the beach. Holly helped get my cap situated over my goggles (I know, nothing new on race day, but it was a better option than being kicked in the face and losing them) and gave me a big hug. I shed a few tears, upon which Keels said there's no crying today, and then I knew I was ready.

Swim:
I lined up in the 1:31-1:45 area for the start. Based on my swim times at Abu Dhabi and Galveston, I thought this was a good place to be. I chatted with the people around me, borrowed a splash of water to rinse the anti-fog drops out of my goggles, and waited for the cannon to fire for our start. The wind was whipping (turns out there was a small craft advisory in effect until 7am), and I could see the swells, the chop, and the whitecaps waiting for me as I walked into the water.

Lots of nervous energy

My plan was to relax and swim with smooth and easy strokes, just like Charlotte and Paul advised when I met them on Cape Cod this summer. I wanted to avoid as many people as I could in order to keep a straight line and focus on swimming, not battling for space. I saw a pair of goggles float by underneath me about halfway out to the first turn, making me even more determined to find my own water. The swells and chop got larger and worse the father out we went. To keep me focused and breath under control, I told myself "catch, pull, breathe" over and over again with each stroke.

Off we go!

After what seemed like forever but was really only 800 meters or so, I made it to the first turn, went left, and was swimming right into the wind and waves. This made it very hard to sight the next turn buoy. Finding a rhythm was tough with all the large swell and wind-blown chop on top, but I did. Growing up on the water taught me to feel the timing of waves, and I would take two strokes, glide through the wave, and repeat. Sure wasn't easy, but better than fighting back. Once I made the turn, I switched to breathing on my left to keep the sun out of my eyes and waves out of my face. If you could only breathe off one side, you had a really tough swim.


I drafted off a few people heading back to the beach to save some energy and relax a little bit. I knew from the practice swim on Thursday which building marked the exit, and although I kept a good eye on it, I still had to correct a little for the wind, waves, and current. Pretty soon, I was close enough to shore to be able to body surf in to the beach, riding the waves like when I was a kid at Jordan's Beach. With a few steps in the surf and up onto the sand, I reached the fence to make the turn back to the start of the second loop. I glanced at my watch and 35:xx was staring back at me. I was elated and worried at the same time. This was faster than I swam at Galveston back in April, and I still had to do it all over again. I vowed to walk to the start of the second loop and try to be even more relaxed than I was the first time around. I didn't want to ruin the rest of the day by blowing myself up on the swim. A volunteer gave me a small cup of water as I passed the aid station on the beach. I drank a few sips and back into the water I went.

Conditions were much harder for the second lap. The wind was building, the waves were now at 4-5', and the chop was steep and nasty. Heading out was okay. I swam inside the buoys and let the wind push me to the right to the turning mark. Much less effort and a whole lot less people around me. I could see a long line of caps and arms to my right who were in for a tough push back to the left to get around the buoy. The short leg across to the final turn back to the beach was awful, directly into the wind, waves, chop and sun, which had risen above the horizon and was exactly in line with the buoy. Made it fairly easy to stay on course, though, since if you weren't swimming right into it, you were off to one side or the other. Again I used my feel for the water to swim down the back of a wave, breathe, stroke into the face of the next one, glide over the top, and repeat for 200 meters. Very very tough. There were lots of people around me on their backs, breaststroking, and/or panicking. "Pull, glide, pull, glide, don't fight, pull, glide," I kept telling myself over and over.

Finally I made the turn and was on my way home. I tried to resist the temptation to pick up the pace and focused on staying relaxed and drafting off anyone I could. I got blown off the side once or twice but otherwise stayed right along the buoys. A few minutes of body surfing later, I was done. I glanced down at my watch as I made my way up the beach to the arch and was shocked to see 1:15 staring back at me. Here I was, barely into my first IM, and I just knew I had blown my race with a time like that, much faster than I thought possible. But wait, I said to myself, you're not out of breath and your heart isn't racing. I couldn't get my head around how I felt (great) vs. how I thought I should feel (less than great), so I decided to walk briskly to the changing tent just to be safe.

T1:
Cap off, goggles off, and go find the wet suit strippers. I lay down on the sand and two very enthusiastic volunteers whipped my suit right off. I took it back from them, made my way to the PVC showers, and took time at each shower head to get as much sand off as possible. The last thing I wanted was to have sand chafing me during 112 miles of cycling. I heard Holly and Keels cheering for me and waved at them as I rounded the corner into transition where my bike gear bag would be waiting for me.

Heading into T1

"I'm number 2540! Where's my bag?" I shouted to the volunteers, who seemed to be confused and not sure of what to do. Having to track my bag down myself wasn't fun. Easy enough, but mentally distracting given everything else I had to think about.

Once in the changing tent (a conference room in the hotel), I found a chair, sat down, and pulled my gear out very carefully and slowly. Using Holly's chamois towel (definitely on my list of gear to get for next time), I wiped off all the sand I could before lubing up with Betwixt and putting on my bike bibs. My Allagash bike jersey went on, and off, and back on again due to a twist in the sleeve. I dried and brushed off my feet, put my socks and bike shoes on, and stuffed a piece of Clif bar into my mouth. There were no volunteers around to help, so I crammed my swim gear back into the bag, picked up the Tailwind packet which had fallen out of my pocket during the jersey donning debacle, put on my helmet and sunglasses, washed down the Clif bar with some water, and was on my way to my bike. A volunteer asked for my number, and by the time the ladies slathered sunscreen all over my arms and neck, he had it off my rack and out in the main aisle ready and waiting for me. A nice touch which made me feel important and put a smile on my face as I went out under the arch to the mount line. I got to see and wave to my parents, Holly, and Keels heading out on the bike too.

Bike:
Mary's plan called for me to wait until my heart rate settled into zone 2 before ramping up to my IM power (135 watts). Looking down at my computer as I left transition, I was already in the middle of Z2. That's good, I thought, now I can pedal easy for the first five miles to get my legs going and pick it up after that. Conveniently, the five mile mark came when I got to see Heather outside the Starbucks across from our condo. Then it was time to get to work. I slowly began to focus on my power output and my nutrition, taking my first sips of Tailwind 20 minutes into the leg. My Tailwind bottle held 600-700 calories, enough for me to take two good sips every 5 miles until special needs, where a frozen bottle of 800 calories would be waiting for me. My aero bottle had only water and I refilled it at every aid station (~11 miles apart) to keep fully hydrated.

I intentionally kept my power in the 120-125 range for the first 20 miles. I wanted to be careful and easy until I felt I was settled into a groove and could ride at my IM power. That plan fell apart a mile later when the course turned east and hit the wind. It blew from the east/northeast all day long and was a headwind most of the time. I switched to a strategy of keeping my heart rate in zone 2 instead of my power at 135 and fell into a nice routine. Refill water at every aid station, sips of Tailwind when the computer beeped at me, cadence in the 85-95 range, smooth and steady. I would power up until my HR went to 2.9, then ease up until it went back to 2.6 or 2.7, then start over again. Battling the wind really pissed me off so I focused on small goals like seeing Heather, Holly, and Keels at mile 40. They were right at the turn as promised, screaming and yelling and cheering. Having Heather run alongside and tell me how good I looked me gave me a huge mental boost and took my mind of the wind for a little while.

Passing the crew at mile 40

Sticking with the focus on short goals, my next one was the special needs bag area at mile 53. As you might expect of me, I fell over while stopped with my bag. The very helpful volunteer was polite enough not to laugh. I took time to put my cold-but-not-frozen 800 calorie bottle into its cage, mix a Tailwind packet into my spare third bottle, had a few sips of Coke Zero, popped in some gum, and was on my way. OMG, gum! The best idea ever, thanks to Holly. Getting the sticky feeling out of my mouth felt so refreshing and picked me right up.

The rest of the bike leg was about the same as the first part. I stared at my computer, drank water, sipped my Tailwind on schedule, and cursed at the wind. It never appeared to be anything but a headwind. I know there were portions where it was behind us, but they seemed to be few and far between. The running joke between all of us as we were riding was "do you think this next turn will be a tailwind?" as we grimaced and shook our heads. I also stopped at every other aid station to pee. Okay, maybe I didn't have to stop as often as I did, but it gave me comfort to ride empty rather than full. Tailwind is great stuff, but it sure makes you have to go.

The worst part of the bike course came around mile 74 when we turned right for an out-and-back section which began into the wind, again, with some long uphill stretches. Nothing too steep (it is Florida after all), but fairly soul-crushing anyway. I'm not a strong cyclist, so I dropped into a very low gear, tried to keep my cadence up, and waited and waited for the turn-around to come. Finally, it did, and I was able to relax for a few miles. From there, I had two simple goals left: 20 miles to the bridge and then 12 miles home. The closer I got to the end, the more people I saw on the side of the road with flat or other mechanical issues. I heard there was some broken glass shortly after coming down off the bridge, but I never saw it. Good thing too, or else I would've totally freaked out because ability to change a flat is limited in a race environment.

I made the last turn back onto the beach road with six miles left, and found myself once more pedaling right into a 15-20 mph wind. I dialed back my effort to bring my HR down even more, chatted with some folks around me, and began to plan for T2. I kept telling myself not to think about the run while out on the bike, but I was close enough now to know I'd finish the longest ride I'd ever done.

To my surprise, I felt great the entire bike leg. I was never depressed, tired, or sad. I never felt like I wanted to quit. I focused hard on my heart rate and cadence numbers and on not looking ahead to the run. It was really really tough because of the wind, but my fueling (yay Tailwind!) kept me from getting down and losing focus. Watching people in front of me get blown off the road and crash was extremely disconcerting, especially given my bike handling skills, and there were a few 30 mph gusts that blew me around too. Thankfully I was smart enough to sit up to get through them. I didn't ride the way Mary and I had planned, and I'm fine with that. I did what I knew I had to do in order to get to the run.

T2:
I got to see and wave at everyone heading into transition, which is always a good thing. I hopped off my bike (no falling this time), gave it to a volunteer, and had my bag handed to me without having to go search for it. My legs felt strangely un-wobbly as I walked to the changing room. I used my bib shorts and my jersey to wipe off the sand which I hadn't gotten entirely off in T1 and could feel chafing during the last 30-40 miles on the bike. I layered on lots and lots of Body Glide, and then put on some more. I had no intention of stopping during the run to reapply. Compression shorts on. Race top on. I noticed one of my Band-Aids had fallen off and tried not to think about how uncomfortable the run could turn out to be if I needed Vaseline two hours from now and couldn’t find any. Socks and shoes on. Breathe. Stuff bike gear into bag. SPI belt on. Number belt on. Sparkle skirt on. Breathe. Sunglasses on. Sunscreen on. Across the parking lot, under the arch, and 26.2 to go. Everyone was waiting for me right out of transition. I gave some quick high fives, a kiss to Heather, and told them I'd be back in a few hours.

Run:
Heading out on the first loop of the run, I couldn't believe how awful a lot of the people around me looked. Many of them were already shuffling or walking, setting them up for a very long afternoon and evening. I, on the other hand, felt great. I was finally back in my element and ready to chase down all the people who passed me on the bike. The first mile or so of the run was populated by tri club tents and lots of local residents out partying. They loved my red sparkle skirt, hooting and hollering and naming me Skirt Guy as I ran past. I was having a great time already, and I hadn't even really gotten started yet.

Rather than try to hit a certain pace, mainly because I had no idea what my pace should be, I ran by feel and by heart rate. I quickly found that a 9:45-10:00 pace kept my HR around 1.6 or 1.7 and felt good. Curiously, 9:15 felt really good too, but I was pretty sure that was not sustainable. I took in my first water and Gatorade at the mile 2 aid station. Gatorade was a mistake as I felt my stomach get nauseous less than five minutes later. I opted to use coke, potato chips, and water instead after that. Without much else to do, I tried chatting with my fellow runners but most of them weren't interested. Too lost in their suffering, I guess, though I think talking helps take your mind off how you feel. On the plus side, the spectators in the neighborhood were more than happy to chat and engage with people. One group had a huge white board listing all of the college football games being played that afternoon and a sign about 40-50' up the road reading "college scores ahead." If you yelled out a game as you passed the sign, they'd shout the score back to you as you reached the board. They told me Michigan was up 21-0. A few miles later, it was time to eat. I took only two Clif bloks because I didn't think my stomach could handle three thanks to the Gatorade, and then two more every 45 minutes until the sleeve of six was gone.

Around mile five, the course runs through the parking lot of a bar. The bar places a flier in the race packets playing up their location on the course (come see your runner four times!) and offering a free beer to the competitors if they show up with a race bib or wristband. The advertising certainly works because the place was packed, porch and patio filled with people cheering, ringing cowbells, and giving us lots of encouragement. Definitely one of the more fun sections of a run course I've been on. Good thing too, because the next three miles were nearly devoid of people as we finished the out portion of the loop in a state park. Beautiful park with great scenery, but not much in the way of action except the party station being manned by BASE salt and their crew. I didn't mind this stretch as much as some of the people around me who grumbled about how boring it was. I like having a quiet part of a race during which I can focus inward instead of outward and enjoy the serenity for a little while.

With 6.5 miles down, I made the u-turn still feeling great and keeping a smooth and steady pace. I waved at the crowd in the bar, drank my coke and water at the aid stations, munched on potato chips every so often, passed lots of people, and before I knew it, lap one was coming to an end. I heard and saw Keels yelling for me on the corner before the special needs area/turn-around point. Since I didn't see anyone else, I figured she was the advance party, and sure enough, thanks to the wonders of text messaging, Holly and Heather popped out of the crowd to run me into and out of special needs a few hundred meters later. I chewed some more gum (glorious!), left everything else in the bag, and set off on lap number two.

Heather and Holly running me out to loop 2

The second loop was pretty much the same as the first. I ran the whole way except at the aid stations. I took on chicken broth when they began offering it to get a break from the coke and potato chips. I was sad to see the people partying under the LSU pop-up tent had disappeared indoors to watch by the time I went by on my way out to the turn-around. I had hoped to get some Mardi Gras beads as a souvenir.

The second trip into the state park was a little scary. There were no lights once past the BASE salt crew, making it very hard to see people around me. I ran in the middle of the road to avoid the camber on the side which bothered my knee and was extremely cautious to avoid colliding with someone coming back at me in the other direction. My pace dropped in this section by about a minute per mile, which was fine with me. I didn't really pay much attention to my time until I made the last turn around and began my way back. Even then, I told myself that six miles is a long way and anything can happen. I found a few people to talk to, one of whom was on her first lap, which explains the awkwardness when I told her "we're doing great. We've got this!" as we ran along. The perils of a two-lap course, I suppose.

I kept powering along and hitting the aid stations until I had two miles left. At that point, I knew I would be okay if I stopped stopping for water and broth and picked up the pace. From there, it was simply a matter of running and chatting with the guy next to me, building speed, and thanking all the people in the club tents lining the course who had been cheering for Skirt Guy all day. One last left turn to the finish chute, and it was time to start celebrating. I implored the crowd to make some noise, slapped every hand being stretched out over the barriers, including Heather's who I saw but didn’t remember seeing at the time, and powered my way to the line. No tears across the line, but as you can see in the video, I was pretty damn excited. :)

I was surprised at how well I did on the run. I had no cramping, no exhaustion, no issues at all really. I just ran. If there's one thing I know I can do, it's run and pace a strong marathon. Being able to do so while everyone around me was walking and shuffling helped keep me mentally focused and happy. Nothing like running down people lots who flew by me on the bike.

Swim - 1:15
T1 - 13:21
Bike - 6:57
T2 - 12:20
Run - 4:35
Total - 13:14

Overall, I felt GREAT the entire day. I never had a single moment of doubt. From the time I entered the swim chute to when I crossed the line 13 hours later, I felt strong and knew I'd be able to finish. I was shocked at my time, though. Much much faster than I thought I would do. Had I know I was as good at this as I proved to be, I would've spent less time in transition and at aid stations and come in under 13. Then again, maybe being calm and relaxed and not even thinking about the clock is what made me go as fast as I did. I wasn't even aware of my time until Heather and Holly told me after the finish.

I have to thank Mary for being my friend and my coach and for getting me so well prepared for this race. She deserves a lot of credit for giving me a training plan tough enough to push my limits but not impossible to complete. I had an absolute blast on race day, loved every minute of it, and felt fantastic all day long. Being physically ready had a lot to do with that. I also need to thank Holly for being my super Sherpa and keeping me sane and calm-ish in the days leading up to the race, and Keels for driving over to support me and cheer me on. Finally, thanks to my wonderful wife Heather who puts up with me doing all these crazy endurance events. I'm glad we were able to find a way for her to be there because hearing from her after the finish how proud she was of me really meant a lot.

IMFL Race Report, Part I - Pre-Race

I signed up for IM Florida on December 5, 2015, exactly 11 months before race day. It was a month after Rocketman, my first half-Iron distance race. I always swore I'd never a) do an Ironman, and b) do an Ironman while living in Iraq and having to train primarily indoors, yet there I was clicking on the blue Confirm Registration button on active.com, watching $650 fly out the window. My prior protestations aside, after discussion with Heather, Holly, and Mary, we all agreed Erbil provided a fairly ideal training environment. Sure, having to bike in my living room and run on a treadmill or around a parking lot would be taxing, but I had no outside distractions to get in the way of my training. When you're not living with your wife and aren't allowed outside of the hotel grounds, there's not much to do other than work and workout. I missed less than five workouts while in Kurdistan in 11 months, whereas I probably missed that many during my first business trip of the year to Houston in February alone. Like I said, tough training conditions but a lifestyle well suited to getting the training accomplished.

With the exception of the last two weeks of workouts in mid-October (we got evacuated to Dubai in advance of the Mosul offensive), I did all of my swimming in the Divan's 20m pool. It's designed for fat Kurdish men to bob around in but works well for lap swimming anytime before noon. After lunch, all bets are off as you spend more time dodging the hairy guys using the orange life guard rings as floaties than working on your stroke.

My key to surviving the cycling on the trainer for so many hours on end came in late December when someone on the Ironman Florida Facebook group mentioned trying Zwift, a new online bike training software environment. Zwift is basically a multiplayer game like World of Warcraft, only for cycling. The designers have created virtual roads and routes to ride, and your little avatar is one of dozens or hundreds on the course at any given time, giving you other people to ride with and talk to while you're on your trainer. Like any game, there are increasing levels to attain, different kits to unlock, and achievements to conquer. I did all of my long rides on Friday mornings and got to know the other regulars on course at the same time pretty well.

My running was like choosing whom to vote for in the election - two really bad options (Gary Johnson not withstanding). I could watch movies and TV shows on my iPad in the gym, but treadmill. I could run outside and enjoy some sunshine and fresh air, but parking lot. I ended up outside as often as possible when the weather and traffic in the lot cooperated. I'll take making a turn every 20-30 feet over feeling like a hamster any day. Plus, the Kurdish security guards patrolling the hotel grounds were pretty entertaining. I've never seen so many men trying to project an air of machismo while lying in the grass posing for selfies or smoking cigarettes twice as slim as Virginia Slims. They are decent guys, though, who would move their vehicles to give me more room to run a straight line before having to make a turn.

I left Dubai for Orlando on October 23rd to head home for the race. I was exhausted from the last few weeks of training and the stress of having to evacuate out of Erbil at the last minute. Let's hear it for tapering! While I didn't feel like I was tapering for another five days, it was nice to have less taxing workouts to get through. Even nicer was being with Heather again. The presence of your spouse is always calming, at least until you drive her nuts with race talk. I spent the week relaxing as much as possible, getting my bike tuned up and my new race wheels installed, and also managed to fit in a great dinner with Heather at Victoria & Albert's too. Finally, November came and it was time to go. I did my last real workout and made the long drive to Panama City Beach.

Wednesday was my race registration day.

I opted to go early to avoid the lines and crowds said to arrive later that afternoon. This turned out to be a wise choice. When I arrived at 930, there was no line. I filled out all the paperwork, thanked all the volunteers, and tried not to freak out. I was fairly successful at this until I reached the last step and was assigned my timing chip. Seeing my name and number on the screen was a huge "holy shit, I'm racing an Ironman" moment, a moment which quickly passed because the next step in the process was the merchandise tent. I don't care who you are, you can't stress over a race while shopping for goodies. I bought the two things I knew I wanted - the shirt with all the names of the competitors on the back and the event backpack - and skipped the IM-branded pot holders and a zillion other tchotchkes. I wonder who feels their race experience is not complete without an oven mitt covered with the M-dot logo.

Holly flew in late on Wednesday afternoon and promptly helped me deal with the first pre-race crisis. Heather sent me a text saying she was having problems checking into her Thursday morning flight, and things escalated quickly from there. Silver Airways had cancelled her flight back in July but Priceline, through whom she purchased her ticket, never bothered to notify her. The three of us spent close to 2 hours on Facetime together researching flights, schedules, and options to get Heather to the race. We finally found a workable option to get her in on Friday morning and out on Sunday morning. Not ideal, but as Holly told me, you will regret not having her here if she doesn't come. Holly was right. Seeing Heather around the course on race day was a much needed boost of the spirit.

Thursday morning I drove over to the race beach to get in a practice swim. I planned on meeting up with a bunch of people from the Facebook group, but as I was walking over from my car, I struck up a conversation with a guy heading that way too. His name was Mike and he invited me to join his group instead. There were ten or so of them, mostly from North Carolina, and hanging out with them was a blast. Lots of joking, laughing, and words of encouragement from the veterans to the two of us rookies. A few of them practiced both with and without a wet suit in case the swim wasn't wet suit legal, but I kept mine on the whole time. With no chance of a  podium placement, there was no point in me not wearing it. The water during our swim was perfect - flat, calm, and clear - and allowed me to thoroughly test my suit for chafing, swim with both pairs of goggles, and practice sighting the finish line. A great morning of confidence building two days before the race.

Following a short ride and run, and a trip to the grocery store for supplies, the time had arrived to begin packing my race bags. Good thing Holly was there. She helped checked things off my list as the piles in each bag kept growing, made sure I mentally walked through the race and didn't overlook anything, and provided a calm voice of experience to lower my stress level. We agreed it ended up for the best Heather wasn't there. She's not a fan of race talk in general, and would not have enjoyed the hour or more of watching us discuss the merits of each and every item as I moved it from one bag to another.The final bags were loaded like this:

Swim: wet suit, cap, goggles (2), Body Glide, Tri Slide, Clif gel.

Bike: chamois towel, bib shorts, bike jersey, chamois cream, sunglasses, 1/2 Clif bar, Tailwind packets (3), bike shoes, bike socks.

Run: Body Glide, compression shorts, run shirt, shoes, socks, race belt & number, SPI belt loaded with Sport Beans and Base salt, hat, sparkle skirt.

Bike Special Needs: Coke Zero, gum, spare CO2 cartridges, spare tube, single-use chamois cream packages (3), Sport Beans, Tums.

Run Special Needs: Coke Zero, gum, Tums, spare socks.

Holly cooked a tasty pasta dinner on Thursday night, after which we hung out watching the World Series and relaxing. I knew this was my most important night of sleep before the race so I turned in early and missed the end of the game. I also didn't set an alarm and hoped I'd be able to sleep in a little the next morning.

The agenda for Friday was pretty simple: easy ride for 10 minutes to confirm the bike is working perfectly, big pancake breakfast, drop bike and bags off at transition, pick up Heather from the airport, sit on butt until bedtime. I was not the only athlete out riding, but I sure seemed to be the only one taking it easy. Most of the other riders were flying up and down the beach road, though given my cycling ability relative to most people, they might really have been taking it easy.

For breakfast, Holly and I made our second visit to Another Broken Egg cafe. Lots of neon green Ironman wristbands visible on the other diners and plenty of bikes on cars in the parking lot.

I ordered the three pancake breakfast with a side of eggs & bacon. Half an hour later, I felt like I was in an episode of Man vs. Food as I struggled to consume the last of the pancakes. During a break to snack on the bacon and gather myself for the last third of the last one, I sent a text to Mary asking for help. She had no mercy or pity.

With a stomach beyond full, we made our way over to transition to drop off my bike and transition bags. As suggested by both Mary and Holly, I walked around many times and spoke with many volunteers to learn the flow we'd be following the next day.

I felt like I was in the middle of an agility course walk-through - swim exit, turn left, grab bag, into changing room, exit, turn right, etc. - as I paced out exactly where I needed to be. Having the layout and movements implanted in my brain on Friday would help overcome the adrenaline-induced brain fog on Saturday. Holly and I also scoped out a good place to meet on Saturday morning after she dropped me off before the swim.

Racked and ready to go

Lunch on Friday after getting Heather from the airport was at Red Robin. I know, not exactly what most people would choose, but their bottomless potato wedges provide an excellent source of carbs and salt. I ate at least a full basket, along with some mac and cheese too, surprising considering how huge my breakfast had been only a few hours earlier. Can't go wrong with more carbs before race day, right?

My parents arrived late afternoon and came over to join us for dinner after stopping by the race village to learn more details about their volunteer jobs on Saturday. They signed up to slather sunscreen on people from 1030-230, giving them something to do while I was out on the bike course. We ordered pizza from Papa John's for dinner. It's something I frequently have the night before a long run, and I know it will not cause me any stomach issues the following morning. I often had Indian before my long rides while in Erbil during our customary Curry & Darts nights on Thursdays, but that's a lot easier to deal with when the bathroom is a few steps away from your living room. And when you're not going to be out on a race course for 140.6 miles.

I was in bed by 830 and fell asleep around 9. Melatonin and 1/2 of an Ambien for the win!