The Biggest Loser-aptly named as the winner seems to lose either way…

With all of the talk regarding the Biggest Loser winner being too skinny I have commented on numerous posts and in a fashion completely unlike me…decided to write my own… :P  

The Biggest Loser show should be taken off the air. Admittedly, I have watched it from time to time and shouldn’t have.This is a show that takes extremely obese people, parades them on national TV half naked, takes away their main support structure, does an extreme instant lifestyle change, than lets the world judge them on a weekly basis. I know what some of you are going to say- but these people volunteer, ask to be on it, want to do this. And I would agree with you its one hell of a sales pitch- however, it’s dangerous, misleading and frankly, wrong.

I will guarantee that being obese is not anyone’s choice. Obviously the decisions those people made with regards to food are the direct cause for their weight gain but what led them to those choices are where the effort should be focused as the food is typically secondary or even tertiary. Sources like mental health, traumatic episodes and numerous others are key factors when looking at extremism. Where ‘O where are the mental health counselors on the Biggest Loser? The so called “pro trainers” themselves have known short falls with regards to eating and binge exercise. Yet, these are the people that counsel the desperate and ultra-extreme during another life altering time? Last I looked; your ACE certification didn’t accompany an MS. or Ph.D in psychology. Hell, I don’t recall it saying anything about mental health whatsoever.?!  

Here is the Biggest Loser’s approach to weight loss.

The key motivator-humiliation. You are labeled as fat and stand half naked for the world to see just how fat you are. If you don’t work hard enough, sway the least bit from a completely different diet than you are used to, it will result in you being fat in front of millions, letting your team down, letting the people at your job down, your town down and worst of all, your loved ones you left behind because you will be sent home- yep, humiliated. How could that ever morph into something unhealthy?? Hmmm, it’s a mystery…

What I do know about weight loss is that the best way to success is through lifestyle change. Manageable, maintainable, sustainable, lifestyle change. Yanking people out of their homes; instantly changing their diets; going from no physical activity to 8+ hours a day and scaring them with the humiliation of coming up short in front of the judgmental public that they have been ridiculed by the majority of their lives; is far from the correct way to go about it.

Here’s the kicker! I love this part!! After a person perseveres, survives, conquers all of these insane obstacles, John Q Public accompanied with hysteric mass media, has the audacity to call her TOO THIN and speculate she is anorexic. GASP!!! How on earth could someone become anorexic after that great experience???

I feel bad for her and scared for all of the contestants on the Biggest Loser. It is 100% possible that this extreme weight loss show could take a person from one side of the eating disorder line completely across to the other. As someone who has battled anorexia for the last 11 years, I can tell you it sucks! I’m betting the opposite side of the spectrum is the exact same. As an anorexic, every ounce of food or drink that passes your lips is analyzed, reanalyzed and then thought about later. I am an athlete and therefore hungry all of the time. Over the years I’ve learned to control this hunger by eating a ton of low energy density foods. Foods like cucumbers, watermelon, lettuce and apples. I drink carbonated beverages because the gas fills me up. And lastly, I work out as much as possible. Even when my body is depleted I find a way to continue because those off days are scary to me. As I said, this is something I have battled for the last 11 years. This is something I work at every day and every day it gets better! But no matter what I do, I am told that it will likely always be there in some form no matter what. This is the dangerous area that Biggest Loser seems to disregard completely. This is the area that the public feeds into because of their ignorance and cynicism. This is why Biggest Loser should be taken off the air or revamped, completely!

My hope is that everyone takes an active role in their health. Extremism with regards to weight loss may yield fast results, but lasting changes take a much larger, longer commitment. In my opinion; pass on going to the BL Ranch. Instead, make gradual, maintainable changes, Set long term and short term goals and feel good about yourself along the way. This is not an easy undertaking, expect set backs but keep pushing forward. Get your family/friends involved, as support is such a key factor for success. Seek advice from educated, credentialed professionals and most of all, be patient. You WILL get there, the right way. 

EARN a Kona slot!!!

This post is going to come off in many different ways and as I read and reread, it seems to carry a negative undertone. Not my intention but perhaps the truth is- its negative. It may seem redundant- which it may be as many have said the same. And it may seem useless- which let’s face it, all of my posts are…ha!!

The big day for Ironman is this weekend. For a triathlete, this is the end all say all. Only the elite, qualified Ironman finishers get a chance at a course that is legendary. Destination- Kona, Hawaii! Race- IRONMAN World Championships!! 2.4 mile ocean swim in crystal clear, sea life abundant waters followed by a 112 mile bike in some of the nastiest cross winds, only to finish with a 26.2 mile marathon run that takes you through hot lava fields. This race is tough. Its meant to be tough. Meant for those athletes who completed an Ironman somewhere across the globe who have EARNED their spot at the start. Crazy to some but in the world of triathlon, the chance to go suffer with the best is a dream come true!!

So how do you get there? You EARN it! You go out and train early in the morning and late at night. In the rain, the cold, the hot, the sun, when others are sleeping, when others are eating, when others are going out partying…you train. There is a want and desire that pushes you to the very brink of exhaustion. Your body brakes down and injury lurks at every step and pedal stroke along the way. There is a toll that is taken by friends and family and everything that encompasses your life outside of training. There is a commitment that is unmatched in any other recreational sport. Why? To cross that finish line ahead of the rest and EARN your spot at the starting line of the greatest triathlon in the world- KONA!!!

Pretty awesome right? DAMN RIGHT!! Those dedicated people train and compete for years for a chance to hear that cannon fire and take part in this amazing race! Read on…

What I described is nothing short of the truth. Long days don’t tell the story of a journey to Kona. The journey is years long and most never make it. That work- day in and day out over years, some natural talent, a lot of money and hopefully some luck that all goes as planned on race day is what it takes to EARN one of those coveted spots.

The WTC (World Triathlon Corporation) makes qualifying tough. It should be. HOWEVER- for some- not so tough and it takes away chances for those who did EARN it. I’m talking about celebrities. Race car drivers, football players, people who ate Twinkies every day of their entire lives, chefs, actors…the list is endless. This isn’t breaking news. We see this daily. Celebs get special treatment with everything -why should this be any different. (Im not crying, if I was a celeb I would take advantage of it too…duh!!) This blog post wont change a thing and it’s not meant to. But its my blog, and <in song>  Ill bitch if I want to. Bitch if I want to… J

Hines Ward- I’m a fan! You are one incredible football player. You played your heart out for the Steelers on every down and you stayed loyal to a franchise even in the end when others would have not. BUT- you don’t deserve a shot at Kona. Let me put it in perspective for you. This is our Super Bowl, our Pro Bowl. How would you like it if Tom Hanks was lined up behind center on Super Bowl Sunday throwing to you or Justin Bieber was blocking for you? How would you like it if someone who just lost a bunch of weight took your position on 3^rd and long? Or a top chef stepped in to play defensive tackle for your team as your opponents are knocking on the end zone door with a 4^th & inches? You wouldn’t. Why? Because they wouldn’t deserve to be there and it would piss you off that they took your spot or a teammate’s spot on the field. This is your chance to play in a game you have dreamed about, worked for and busted your ass to get to for years! Those people didn’t EARN their spot alongside you, your team mates or have the right to fill in for you should you need a break or get injured. Are you getting my point? On Sunday you will line up alongside all of those people who DO belong there. Who did EARN their spots. Just like you worked your ass off every day to deserve that Super Bowl ring, a Pro Bowl spot and MVP awards, they did it for triathlon.

Biggest Loser- congratulations on your weight loss! I’m proud of you and hope you stick with it for the rest of your life. I also hope that you will help others who are not as fortunate to have a yearlong coach, trainer, dietician, t.v. show and getaway to help with the journey. You too are great but you didn’t EARN your spot at Kona. For someone whose life changed because of the hard work you put in, I would think you of all people should understand this.

Chef Ramsay- Great cook! Great business man! Great show! I am also a fan! My wife is a great cook. She figures out ways to feed a triathlete with an eating disorder on a daily basis. How would you feel if she took over your show?  How would you feel if your 15 Michelins were awarded to a line cook at McDonalds or Taco Bell? You wouldn’t! Why? Because they didn’t EARN them! They didn’t spend years training under master chefs in different countries. They didn’t sacrifice time for other things to learn the art of cooking the way you have. They flat out didn’t EARN it.

Is any of this making sense? I want to be clear again, that I am happy for each of you. I am a fan!! Hines- a huge fan!! I am also ecstatic that each of you has chosen to take on an event like Ironman! You bring a lot to our sport- great media coverage, sponsors and mainstream awareness. I love it!! We are glad you are here and cheering you on! We even offer to help!! Triathletes are that way. *Just not at Kona*

The issue I have is that these spots could have gone to someone who did EARN them. There are limited spots- the race can only hold so many or trust me, the money monger WTC would find a way to get more in. A couple examples of who is not there, but should be, because they did EARN those spots-

My brother, coach and friend is one of those guys that deserves to be there. He trained like I stated above. He crossed that line under ten hours and he fell short of a qualifying spot. This year he did two Ironman events on a knee without a meniscus and still came close to that qualifying time- but no dice. He deserves that spot over you.

Another friend took 3^rd in her age group at Ironman Texas. A very tough day, she stuck it out and suffered through to take that last podium slot only to find out there were just two Kona slots available in the female 30-34 age group. She EARNED that coveted spot but again- no dice.

These are just two people that I know personally who deserve to be at that starting line this year but aren’t there. How many more are out there who have done the very same, came just as close or fought for years to get in and just came up a little short- many, MANY!!!- But, there seems to be plenty reserved for celebrities who didn’t EARN them.

To the WTC- I get it. I get that you are nothing more than a business. When you bought Ironman it was to make money. Adding celebs is a sure way to get media coverage, sponsors and bring in dollar bills. Just because I get it, doesn’t mean I agree with it.

This is life and not everyone gets a trophy. I have no problem with that – quite the opposite! Couldn’t agree more. It should be hard to get in and it should be coveted- which it is!! With more and more people entering the sport of triathlon, which is freakin awesome, its going to continue to get harder and further out of reach for most, but for the ones who deserve it, those spots should be there and not filled with celebrities.

Regardless of it all, Sunday will come and the greatest triathlon in the world will take place. I will be glued to the computer, checking splits and following the hard work that so many put in. I’ll be cheering for you too Hines, biggest loser and Chef Ramsay, because at the end, I am a fan and you are now a part of my triathlon family. The unfortunate part- you will never know who’s spot you took or the impact it had. You wont ever read this and your lives will continue as they are now. However- in the far off chance that you do realize your spot was one of many that could have been better filled by those amazing people who just missed it, do them a favor- take a moment in the race and acknowledge them. Give a nod to the Ironman Gods and say thank you because you are competing at the Ironman World Championships!!

Even though those people won’t be there, I can guarantee they will be cheering, watching and tracking as well- that’s what we do as triathletes. We compete and go after it, but we also support it and respect those that do accomplish it!! Except for about 5 people, this sport is not glamorous. There is no fame even when getting to Kona. Its expensive. Its time consuming. Its sacrifice and its gut checking every step of the way and that’s what we live for- day in. Day out.

Ironman is nothing short of monumental. It’s a day where everyone who completes it, remembers it forever. Good luck! Have fun! Be safe!! Enjoy it!!  

Augusta 70.3 Race Report

Augusta Half Ironman 70.3

Sometimes stubborn wins out over common sense. This can be good- make you dig deeper, push past your limit and go harder and longer than ever before. It can also be bad- leave you dependent on port-a-potty after port-a-potty... With the week leading up to the race I should have known it was not the time to choose stubborn but I wanted no excuses and leave nothing to regret.

Augusta HIM beat me down a few years ago. The heat hurt me like I have never experienced. It also left me wanting revenge. A course that was designed for speed and played to my strengths was not about to win because of the conditions, NO WAY!! Well in realty…YES WAY!

 (No Way!! Yes Way!!!)

 My coach had me primed for this race.“A” race of the year and goals were lofty! We were looking for a 23 minute swim, 2:25 bike and 1:30 run. All of these very doable given my training leading up to race day. As with every year there are always typical set-backs and we overcame them. I was primed and ready to go ! One week out running and cycling faster than I had all season. Then I got sick.

 On a business trip the week before the race, my boss gave me the plague. Attempting to alleviate it as quick as possible, Monday I jumped on the antibiotic/prednisone bandwagon that is typically avoided. 5 days of Prednisone, 10 days of antibiotics, mixed with Mucinex-D and drinking constantly to the point I could pee on demand. I was sure I would kick it. Not the case. Race morning came and although I didn’t feel 100%, I was still certain I could get close to my goals. Even if we came up a little short, it would be a win and I would have my revenge on Augusta.

 

Two key notes: Chris called me the night before- we went over everything. It made me calm. It gave me confidence. It was an important piece. The second- my friend Jim text me early that day: “race with your heart” That stayed with me. All the way through.

 Swim:

The plan: go out hard, get in the lead group, settle in and draft.

The reality: went out hard, got in the lead group, couldn’t breath, backstroked the rest of the way. The amount of snot I swallowed may have lead to a demise further in the race but only a doctor could confirm. Haha!

Time: 26:05

Bike:

The plan: Attack! This is where we wanted to have some fun. Burn some matches, recover, burn a couple more. This didn’t go way off target. It was slower than expected as my breathing was more snotting than anything but all in all, I didn’t feel too bad and was pretty ok with my time. I eased up the last 3k to get my legs ready to run and come into transition recovered.

Where I did mess up was nutrition. My peanut butter sandwich stayed in my back until I chucked it at the last trash drop. Pretty sure I should have eaten it and I am completely done with Infinit. Custome blend or not, it makes my stomach turn. 

Time: 2:34

Run:

The plan: Go out running the first mile at a decent pace,  ease off into race pace, lay it all on the line the last 10k.

The reality: My legs weren’t there. It seemed to take forever getting out of transition and onto the street. My stomach was gurgling and my mind immediately went to telling myself, “it’s not hot, you are feeling fine, burry that shit and get your ass back into the race!” So I pressed on. The first aid station I took in water, coke, water and grabbed some ice. The weather was perfect but I was hot. Why? No idea. My legs were starting to come back but my stomach starting feeling worse. I thought if I can just make it to the ATC tent, I will get the cheers and support I need to pick it up. That trek seemed to last forever and my stomach was not having it. I stopped at a port-a-potty right around mile 2. Feeling much better I trekked on! Seeing the tent ahead, Lewis, my wife, Robin and the other spectathletes, I was pumped!! My stomach- it needed pumped. :P Down to the turn around and  another port-a-potty stop. The plan continued at each rest stop. The last big pump came from my friend Bergin. She drove down from Pittsburgh to race. She yelled to me on the run and I asked if she hit her goals- she screamed “YES!!!” I was so excited for her I got chills and for a few minutes all the sick went away!! (Proud of you Bergin!!) Even though I knew my race was long gone, my pace steadily increased and my mind/heart was in it. This made me extremely happy! This is what’s been missing for the last two years and again- the ATC, Time Warner, my coach, my friends, my wife- they brought it back. “Fuck the time! Fuck my stomach! I will not stop running!” Slow, fast, I didn’t give a shit…well actually I gave a few…but if my feet were moving it was a jog, not a walk. My mind was in it!!

 

 

 

Time: 2:00:42

T3- I crossed the line with Lewis, instantly handed back to Tami and sat down. Then I lay down. Then I curled up into a ball. Then I spent the next 2.5 hours either in a ball on the ground or in the port-a-potty. Perhaps I should have listened to my body and stopped. My coach said its one thing to feel like that if you win- justifiable, but not for this. Perhaps. But as I think about the drive that wouldn’t let me stop I’m happy its back. I never want to feel that way again. It’s a day later and I still feel like hell but its one step closer to putting it all together. Having the urge to go is a better outcome than I could have hoped for.

What a shitty week! That’s right, I started this post with a giant negative statement. Its taper week and Im pissy! Bite me! Just kidding J…kind of.

 

This is “A” race week for me. (Here comes the whoa as me part) If it could have gone wrong it did. Smashed into while in a taxi on a business trip, sick as hell and then an encounter with a local idiot business owner, have capped off what I would consider a shitty week. I digress, please read on. Seriously, its important!

 

The last 3 years have been tough for me with triathlon. <sniffle sniffle>  Suffering severe injury, several surgeries, a black out, crash and not having a solid group to lean on for support, to train with and have fun with, has really taken its toll. The PTC meant so much to me. I have lifelong best friends there, support that still is unwavering, contacts and people to lean on for advice, but its not the same when you cannot be there in person. This got so bad for me I almost hung up my triathlon gear this year. Chicky was sold and my focus shifted to road racing. (which is awesome and I love it- don’t give me any of that roadie shit…have I mentioned Im on a taper and feeling very antsy/pissy?) Until…. Keep reading.

 

Until I found the Atlanta Triathlon Club.

 

There are three parts to any race- physical conditioning, which we all over do; nutrition- which we almost never get right, and support. Support for me is the key to being successful in any facet of life. My wife is unbelievable! She supports every crazy thing I try and never questions it. (Coming home to spread mulch after Six-Gap can be a bit much, but you understand… love you honey J) Another part of that support is to have people to train with, talk to, eat with, drink and celebrate after. With the exception of my good friend Adam Teja, this has really been missing here in Atlanta. I found that camaraderie with cycling thanks to Darrell, Dave S., DC and again Adam, but never broke into it with triathlon… until recently. (keep reading! If I have to tell you again, so help me… ha!)

 

If you are going to do anything, anything at all, commit to it! Give it 100% and I promise, regardless of outcome, you will be satisfied knowing you gave it your all. When I joined the ATC this year that was my goal. Get involved. Give it my all! Commit to being an active, contributing member of the ATC! I love triathlon and losing the will to train and compete outright sucked! I’m no quitter and won’t stop until I have exhausted all possible avenues and the ATC was my last chance.

 

Since moving here I have been in contact with Jim Boylan and Bethany Rutledge. Two top personnel in the ATC who have always been inviting and nice. My location limited my participation with the club but we managed to keep in touch. Tami and I moved into the city last year and I decided to take a deeper look at the ATC as it was now feasible to participate. I went to the Energy Lab for a meeting and was extremely impressed by the facility.(go to EL, youll love it!) The people were nice and although being alone is always uncomfortable, I didn’t feel out of place. The ATC is run much differently than the PTC and an option to join as a limited member seemed like a good place to start. I had access to the forums, sponsors and more importantly- triathletes! This is where I began and started giving it 100%! I did! I jumped in and started posting on the forums, asking questions, giving input and getting some good feedback. (Pretty sure I pissed some people off as well but hey- that’s not always a bad thing if positive outcome is the end result)

 

From there I began to get involved on a personal level and took the leap of becoming a swim coach. Another opportunity came and I jumped on that to train the Time Warner Triathletes.(Yes! You are all triathletes!!!)

 

Is the 100% effort becoming apparent? Stay with me…come on!!

 

The best part about this- I am having a blast!!

 

Monday night swim at Mercer University is obviously the best anywhere… (I might be a bit biased but who cares, its my blog) Why? My new friend and awesome swim coach, Matt Gardner runs it! The regulars who come- WOW do we have fun!! From the inspiring beginners like Earl- who just completed his first tri- to the lane who I handicap when racing relays, its never dull, always a blast and gives me so much more than I could ever give them.

 

My coaching with Time Warner is much the same. Wednesday night means coming home on a high! I have witnessed individuals go from not being able to swim whatsoever, to competing this weekend in their first tri!! You guys are awesome!! Im proud of you!! Your dedication and commitment is awe inspiring!! You WILL cross that line!!!

 

So when a week like this happens and I find myself looking for that extra bit of umph to get back to the ROAR of my taper and FIRE for racing, I need that support. Once again, my wife, Adam, brothers in Pittsburgh all came through and guess what- so did my new triathlon family, THE ATC!!  Pete, your post is greatly appreciated- Thank you!!

 

150 of the ATC will be taking on the Lake Lanier Tri while another 40 of us, plus spectathletes will be taking on Augusta 70.3!! Lewis the Alpaca has been welcomed and will be wearing the ATC colors while giving energy and cheering all day!! The tent will be up, the music loud and we are going to burry ourselves…together!!!  You rock ATC!! Thank you!!

 

 

 

Race hard!! When you think you can’t push any harder, dig deep, find it, and never forget, WE are there with you!!

 

L E T ‘ s    R A C E ! ! ! ! !

 

***SPARK..LE***

 

This has nothing to do with Triathlon, sorry to disappoint, but this is something that I believe to be much more poignant and all too often reoccurring in my life.

 

If you were one of the 3 people that read my last entry about running and wanting to give up, then maybe you remember the paragraph where I referred to passing all of the homeless people and how it almost stopped me- instantly. Or you may remember my entry regarding the homeless man in NYC. Either way, their plight and their struggles affect me like nothing else. It hurts me to see human beings living that way. We spend billions all over this world and there are people who truly need our help right outside our doors.

 

The half marathon on Thanksgiving took us down a road that is lined on either side with the homeless. There were groups huddled together trying to keep warm, some sleeping in rolled up newspaper and old blankets, others walking or just standing. My run turned into a slow jog and I could barely get a deep breath as I was so overtaken with sadness. This was certainly something I could not forget and do nothing about.

 

A week or so after - I returned to that street accompanied by Tami and Kona. We brought all of our left overs, a few bottles of water and dropped them to a group of homeless near the end of the street. There were several there and I asked them to make sure they shared amongst themselves. They agreed. As I walked back to the car you could hear them sifting through the bag and talking to each other. They said thank you. We left and returned the following Sunday with more of the same and dropped it to another group. We have been repeating this and I feel like although we can’t help everyone, we are helping a few.  We were doing something. Maybe that one meal gives that person a smile or at least a full stomach for an evening.

 

A few weeks later there was a news story about an effort to meet and record all of the homeless in Atlanta. They were taking volunteers and pairing with police escorts to go out at night, record and find what and why these people were living on the streets. Regardless if you believe this was the right way or good way to allocate funds, or agree with how they chose to go about doing it - I am proud of our city. They should be applauded for the effort to start helping, the start of doing something. I have seen homeless people who are mentally ill in wheelchairs, barely able to speak and they are begging for money. MY GOD! How is any part of that acceptable??  HOW?!

 

I know you might be saying that some of them don’t want help.  Maybe some are there due to drug abuse, and perhaps you are right. But not all. I guarantee- NOT ALL! In my heart of hearts, they all deserve better. Say what you will. These are people.

 

There is always a point to my posts. This is it...

*************************************************************************************Yesterday I met a Saint. Tami described her as an Angel.

I pay attention to the homeless. If I see one while driving I make a mental note. If there are clothes we are unable to use or left overs we wont eat, we take them to those people. Yesterday was a little different…

Very near to our house I saw an old lady pushing a shopping cart. She was dressed with layers of long clothes and walked slowly pushing a shopping cart filled to the limit with what seemed to be her entire life wrapped in grocery bags. We moved to this neighborhood about a year ago and this was the first I had seen a homeless person so close. Hours later Tami came home from a long weekend away. While unloading the car she said she brought left overs back and figured we could take them to our weekly spot. Instantly the old lady came to mind and I told Tami to set them by the door as there were some clothes there as well. Briefly I told her how I saw the lady and we could go see if she was still around to give her the food.

An hour later we walk Kona outside and across the street, pushing the maxed out cart, draped in the long heavy clothes, was the lady I saw earlier. Tami ran back inside and grabbed the bags of food and I crossed the street so I could talk to her and offer it up.

(this is always interesting as some of the homeless will turn and walk away, some will just keep walking, others will talk…its never the same. For safety reasons, I am the one to approach but Kona Bean and Tami are always backing me upJ)

I said hello. She turned to me and with a thick foreign accent said hello back. She was older, somewhere in her late 70’s early 80’s. Her head was covered in a babushka type scarf wrap and underneath there was another. The scarfs shadowed her bright blue eyes that had a spec of brown in the middle encased in very weathered skin. Her skin resembled old leather from obvious years of being exposed to the elements with plenty of thick wrinkles.  A ball of grey, white and a little black hair hung out the back of the scarf on top of a dark blue wool jacket. Her hands had gloves with half of the fingers missing. Each hand was worn, wrinkled, calloused, and chapped. The resembled those of a concrete worker, not that of an older lady. She had on a blue shirt with a pouch in front carrying something and her pants were baggy leading down to a pair of black shoes that looked to have more miles on them than my first car.

( I have to tell you that I’m on an airplane writing this and literally had to stop and collect myself because of the overwhelming sadness I have from remembering that moment…)

I asked her how she was and would she like some food and need any help. She smiled and again with the accent, thanked me but said she could not eat it. The bag I had was full of bagels, chips and a bunch of other things. She was so thankful but told me eating bread made her very sick so she wouldn’t be able to eat it. There was a bag hanging from the handle of the cart with cookies in it. She showed it to me while explaining how a lady purchased them and gave the cookies to her. She didn’t want to upset or offend the lady so she took them with the hopes that someone she ran into would want them. She offered them to me. (read that statement again) Yes, here is an old lady, no home, no car, no money, all of her belongings in a cart that she is pushing up a large long hill and she is offering me cookies.

I was blown away and did everything I could to hold back tears as we continued to talk. I asked her name.  Itskra she replied. She is an immigrant from Czechoslovakia and her name means “Spark” or to “Sparkle.”  She waved her hand in the air as if to have a sparkler or firework. I smiled! She asked me my name and when I replied Ryan, she asked if it meant anything. I told her not to my knowledge. She quickly interjected that her daughter was named Ryna and that meant “Paradise”! She was sure Ryan had to mean something similar. J

We were talking for a while and two ladies approached us. They asked if they could help. Offered her a ride, food etc. I even offered to have her come in and have dinner with us. She declined with a smile and a sincere thank you. We all asked where she would sleep, where she was going, how could we help? Her response in a thick accent; “ You have already helped so much. You stopped. You talked to me. I stopped at the shopping center to use the bathroom, wash my hands and get some water. They called the police to ask me to leave. You did not. You care about me. That is more than I could ever ask for. You have love in your hearts for me.” I couldn’t speak. She continued. “ I have everything I need with the sky above me and the earth below me. When I am tired I take a nap then I keep walking. The earth has good energy and you have given me good energy. I walk.” We asked about shelters, family, the works. She told us that she didn’t like the shelter because it felt like a prison. She wanted to be free. Much different than where she came from and for the last 12 years, this is what she did.

She is free.

There was so much more that was said and I can’t put it into words because it almost feels wrong- like it was meant for me to hear. Feel. Remember.

I walked back across the street with the bag of food quickly met by Tami and Kona. I couldn’t speak. Eventually I was able to tell bits and pieces to Tami but each time was abruptly stopped because I am overcome by emotion. We haven’t seen her since and Im convinced we wont again. She said if we ever do, to please say hi! If we don’t remember her name, Itskra, we can always say “Spark” or “Sparkle” and she will answer.

Sparkle – she certainly does.

That day will never leave me. Her face. Her smile. Her sparkle.

I would like to leave this earth a better place. There is no doubt I have much work to do and every day I continue learning what that means. Maybe one day I will be able to be half as amazing as Itskra . As mentioned before, Im not sure she was human though and I although I am not very religious, I do believe I met an Angel.

 

 Saint…Spark!

Reader beware- numerous tangents throughout. Tangents are labeled so you can choose your own adventure- ie; read them or not.

 

Thanksgiving was the straw that broke the camel’s back. In a year where if it could go wrong, it did – the last race would not disappoint. If you are thinking my attitude is poor, think again. This is a revelation and realization that is/was long overdue. We’ve all heard or some of us have had the unfortunate experience of hitting rock bottom. For an athlete that can mean several things. On the scale of ups and downs there are wins, losses, almosts’, regrets and a huge learning curve. This is evident in every aspect of life, not just sport.  My thought - maybe … just maybe…some of you have had the same feelings.  You can relate and lend words of wisdom?? Or maybe you will respond with HTFU Ryan. Either way without writing it out, the thoughts continue to swirl and I drive myself crazy attempting to make sense of the never ending what ifs.

 

Ever since I can remember I wanted to compete. Football, hockey, lacrosse, basketball and now triathlon. Of course there were times I would get bored or the intensity would fade a bit- A BIT - but the voice in my head stayed consistent. “Score!” “Knock this out of the park!!” “Touch down!!” “ RUUUUUNNNNN!!!” “WIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Until now.

 

This past year was my low point for sport. In a season that encompassed surgery, heat stroke, black out, asthma, 1^st stage of skin cancer and the worst finishing times I have ever posted, it was an all-time low. My close friends tell me I need training partners. Others say I need a break. Some claim its nutrition, and then some just say you’re crazy. Those are the ones I like the best. Tangent- You know - those people who haven’t a clue about the drive that lives inside us when it comes to sport.? We could never explain it, and they could never understand it. That’s a necessary balance in life. This is not criticizing but rather pointing out natural differences in people from all aspects of life. There are plenty of things I think are stupid and don’t understand. Like what the hell is the sword fighting going on at the park? Video games don’t entice me but some people sit and play for hours. You get the point. There is nothing wrong with any of it and if it makes you happy, I say do it! One more person smiling in this world is a good thing. No, it’s a GREAT thing!!!

 

I can hear each of you reading this…”Boring! Ryan, cut through the shit, end the tangents and get on with it.”  Alas…here we go.

 

The Voice…

 

In a year where I witnessed my friends posting PR’s left and right, I am racing and training with a completely different mindset. I watched as Jim Wrubel qualified for Boston after ripping his calf apart mid marathon!! WT??? Tell who to HTFU? He’ll stop, slap you and still PR! Chris Rotelli going sub 10 at IM Tremblont!! DAMN!!!!!! “Your bike is dumb and your bike is dumb and I will throw dirty water on your bike!” (Z-man!) Chris Webb signing up for IM PLACID!!  Nikki taking down her first HIM and I think…wait for it…she likes to run now…a littleJ  Bergin finishing a brutal IMNYC!! Dev setting a 30 minute marathon PR!! Tami, my beautiful bride to be, going sub 2!!! Kim’s first year as a pro ends with a 9:20 full IM!  Put that together with the fact I am starting to make some solid friends in Atlanta, plan the biggest day of my life and a new job that is beyond fantastic, I should literally be ON TOP OF THE WORLD!!!  LITERALLY!!!

 

I am- EXCEPT … when it comes to racing and training. Each one of my races this year and almost every single workout has had the same underlying feeling. “QUIT! Hurry up and finish so you can go do something else.  It’s cool if they pass. You don’t have to win. Just finish and go home.”  Recovery is no better. As soon as I close my eyes to rest- I CRASH riding my bike! PTSD (guessing??) sucks and is a limiter like no other. 35mph and a twinge, or so I think, hits my shoulder. 6 months of pain comes rushing back. I’ve lost my edge.

 

Nothing about any aspect of it is fun anymore. It’s taxing. Miserable. Time consuming and without reward. My bike sessions might as well be null. Lifting is ridiculously boring! Running…I’ll take the short cut. Injury after injury after FUCKING injury!! Frankly, I am sick of it all!

 

When and in what life did I ever decide that half assed anything or walking through an aid station was even an option??? Seriously!!!  NEVER! NEVER!! NEVER!!! Anything less than #1 or the heart to strive for #1 was unacceptable. If not winning at least giving it my all without regard to how I felt! Blowing up wasn't an option, it was the norm but dammit if I didnt push through. Now, it’s almost expected to be mid pack, part of the masses. Tangent-"My heart rate is too high! I need more calories." BULLSHIT!! Mark Allen had bread, water, a steel non-aero bike and would kick all of our asses to this day! If you know me or knew me you would understand this is- just- not- me.

Hang in there! You will love this.

Prior to the rambling I wrote; Thanksgiving was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Here is why. While running the half marathon (training was running once in six weeks because I didn’t give a shit) I was fighting for a spot up front. (group 2 not Kenyon group) I went out hard with the rest of the overzealous and said to myself; “PR today! Put your heart into the last race of the year because Lord knows you sure as hell haven’t done it to date.” So I did…to start. We hit mile 3 at just under 18 minutes. There was bumping and fighting going on the entire time.(What a bunch of idiots we were) Unfortunately a couple guys even got pushed out on a turn hitting the curb head first. By mile 5 we had thinned out a bit. There were two lead groups now and some intermittent runners between. The super group was about 7 or 8 minutes ahead of us but due to the long stretches we could see them. There was no going after that pack, this wasn’t the goal. The goal was to race amongst ourselves. The non- Kenyons. The triathletes. The track club. The marathoners. This is really where those battles on the race course take place. Its age groupers that train hard for no other reason except to PR. We race the other guy who’s family and social life has been neglected. We are the ones that go for that last speed session, one more hill climb, one more long slow run in the cold and dark for no other reason than to place in our age group!!! Bite your opponent’s arm off if you must, but get that spot dammit!! And then it happened. The voice that says all those things once again said something different.

 

It’s one thing to fight off fatigue and pain; it is another to fight your own mind. We rounded the corner and there was a McDonalds off in the distance. I haven’t had McDonalds in years but my voice told me to stop there and get a burger. How about a shake and fries? Up ahead was a coffee shop. “Why don’t we stop and get a coffee? Never been there before, let’s give it a try.” You think I’m kidding and exaggerating but truly I am not! At mile 7 or 8 the course took us down a road that I will never forget. Lined on either side were multiple homeless people. Amidst the trash and random clothes scattered across both sidewalks, there were groups huddled together to keep warm. The weather isn’t freezing here but when your blood is thinned from the hot summer, 40 degree temps can seem like single digits in those in the north. My heart sunk, my head heavy with the internal fight described above, and I started to fade from that pack. Those thoughts of stopping to get a Big Mac retreated and the thought of my Thanksgiving vs. theirs was now in place.

 

Tangent-There is no way to describe what I felt or how badly I wanted to help those people. Thanksgiving now has a completely new meaning to me because of that moment. The images of them are still vivid. To say I am thankful would be an understatement. Take a minute. Think about it… This needs to change.

 

Another tangent perhaps however the point remains the same. My mind, my heart, my drive is no longer there. 8 hours in the mountains on my bike is a joke anymore. Im lucky to make 30 minutes on the trainer. So where do I go from here? Any ideas or thoughts? Take a break? Get better with my nutrition? Work harder at finding training partners? Perhaps go back to having fun and hang up the triathlon kit- motorcycle & car racing, dirt bikes? The answers are mine to find, I get that…but damn would it be nice to have some help.

Tangents are done- Thanks for hanging in there.

Ryan

IRONMAN NYC

Ironman NYC

8/11/2012

I can talk about the day I signed up for this race. Why I signed up for it. The build up. The training. The injuries and all that encompasses getting to the starting line, but that’s not what made this day so special. What needs to be talked about are the people that supported me. Their ability to put up with me, accommodate me and be there fighting with me to the end.

This is not so much a race report as it is a Thank You note. Ill get to the race, but please do not read past the words about these people. Their love and support meant I could complete the Ironman. It is what life is about. Its rare in life to find people who support you without thought of self. People who truly unconditionally love and care for you. I have been honored and lucky to have found a few and to say I am grateful, would be an insult as it doesn’t begin to express how truly blessed of a person I am to have them.

RACE WEEK:

Prior to Tami and I leaving, I had several phone calls with Chris Rotelli. If you know Chris, you might not think of him as a calming factor or someone to put you at ease, but that is just what he did for me. Through several phone calls he took time to go over everything I would need for race day and how to go about doing the race. Everything was covered from things to pack as well as what to expect with volunteers, transition, special needs…the works! There was no question in my mind when we left- I had everything I needed.  Tami and I arrived in NYC on Wednesday. We checked into the hotel, had an awesome NY dinner and set a plan for the rest of the weeks logistics. Thursday we went to the expo early to get checked in. They had the typical “WTC Penalty Tent” for spectators. You know, the area that separates you from your family when checking in. (Why is it that you can go to marathons that host 40,000 + athletes and they have no problem with you walking up to get race packets with your loved ones, but WTC finds it necessary to separate family and friends?) We obviously said “the hell with that” and Tami came with me through the line. My phone rang and it was Rotelli checking in on me. Tami picked it up and Chris was singing the Jaws theme! Awesome! I asked him about sight-seeing and what his opinion was on us taking in NYC. He said: “go enjoy your trip! Take it all in and have a blast!!” Great advice!!! My parents and sister Wendy flew in that afternoon. We met them and went to pay our respects at the World Trade Center Memorial and museums.

If you haven’t seen these, I urge you to go. The place moves you. The names listed on the borders of the pools speak to you. Obviously you can’t read them all at once, but I made sure to remember the ones I saw. All are heroes. All are missed. All of their families are in our thoughts. The plaque on the wall of the firehouse was beyond sobering. We walked forever that day. All over NY and finished with a trip to SOHO for pizza and beer with Erin. A long day! A fun day! A sobering day.

The logistics of this race were a nightmare! We knew that coming in but really couldn’t comprehend it until we started to set up for the race. You were really limited on how to get places and to do so with …yet again…your family and friends. Does the WTC have something against family and friends? Seriously! If the organizers need a hug, let us know J

Friday was bike check in and transition set up. Tami and I went back to Pier 92 to get Chicky from TBT and set her up for the race. The plan was to get a quick ride in and then head over to transition (across the river and north). When we arrived at the ferry dock (1.2 miles away from where we picked the bike up..yay logistics!!) we were told that Tami could not come with me to transition unless she purchased a pass for $50 and this needed to be purchased back at pier 92. This was to be a ferry pass that was good for race day. We both agreed there was no need for this prior to the race as I would see her out of transition but why was it needed now? Some talking with the volunteers and they let her come with me. (obviously not native to NY as they were nice…) 25 minutes later we arrived at transition and set up the bike, dropped the gear bags and jumped the ferry again to head back to NYC. (are you seeing the logistic problems yet??)

It was raining and we were tired from the day before so we decided to head back and take it easy the rest of the day. Lucky we only had to walk a couple miles to the subway station or I would have been mad.<sarcastic> The day was unsettling for me. I was anxious to get to the race but also there were questions to whether the swim would be a go or not as a sewage line broke upstream. The broken sewage line gave much needed attention to the event! The NYC public had no idea Ironman was even going on until the story broke about sewage. (You see where we were on the priority list. #1 Poop, #2 Ironman…shouldn’t that be reversed… get it, #2…)  4:00 p.m. and the announcement was made- the swim was a go!! Bored and anxious we decided to head to the deli next door and sit outside. The weather turned great and from that point until I went to sleep, my entire group of awesome supporters sat around talking and eating and having fun. Probably the best time of the trip

Race Day:

Sleep - didn’t get very much. I had to be up and at the ferry by 4:00 a.m. so they could take us to transition which meant out of bed before 3 a.m. Thank goodness Bergin came walking past the deli or I would’ve missed the boat…literally.  Tami came with me but it was short lived as I had to leave her there. (did I mention logistical nightmare?) Groggy, tired and separated once again, I went to set up my bike. My tires were pumped from the night before and thank goodness. The line for the pumps in transition was that of the security line at the airport. Insane!! All that was needed to do was give my special needs bags to the people who would later steal them, add fuel to the T1 and T2 bags and get in line for the ferry to take us to the start. (did you think we were done with the logistic problems? Come on! Stay with me people!!!)

5:45 a.m. I was standing in line waiting to board. No hurry whatsoever to get on the first couple of ferries as I figured I had all day to get started and wanted to enjoy this. That was really the theme. A few days prior I received a message from one hell of an Ironman competitor and Pro- Chad Holderbaum. His advice was simple but poignant. “Make sure when you’re out there you reflect back on the journey because the race isn’t about just one single day. Its about the process.” Damn right I thought! Its time to enjoy this. I sat down on the grass and started to talk to a couple people who were in line with me. They were both from California and minutes flew by as we were all laughing and swapping stories.

The feeling in the air was so much different than any other race I had been to or done. Tension was gone. It was euphoric, all around good vibe. Maybe it was because I was at the back of the pack and we weren’t concerned about getting in the water first or maybe it was just the event itself but all nervousness and jitters went away then and there. I was having fun!!!!

We boarded the 3^rd ferry and I wasn’t about to stop enjoying myself. They were playing music and the view of NY was awesome!! People were having a great time, chatting about the swim, the muddy water and just joking around. A familiar face popped up on the boat- Bergin was there!! I walked over and we talked and joked with others all the way to the start. Awesome!!!  Before we knew it the pros went off, some girl did a really bad job at singing the national anthem, and we were pulling up to the barge. People were jumping off one after another in mass chaos. It looked like lemmings following off a cliff. When you hit the platform, your time started. So get in the water and try not to jump on anyone. Cool! Lets do this! I stepped on the barge, peed in my wetsuit and off I went!

The Swim:

Slow is smooth and smooth is fast! That was plan! Little did I know how fast slow and smooth were. The current didn’t feel stronger or faster than Augusta so I was surprised when I hit the 400meter mark and looked at my watch. WOW I thought! We were moving! The water was a good temp, dark and salty. There were people everywhere but I was able to swim my stroke with very little interference. By far the easiest and best swim I have ever had. By the 2^nd red marker I remembered the advice from Chad and Chris and wanted to take everything in. I turned my head for a breath facing NYC and saw a view that I think few will ever experience. Above all the neon green and bright pink caps were tall buildings and I just smiled! This was Ironman!! (Just then Hoffa floated by but I figured he was DQ’d as his swim cap wasn’t on anymore…:P) The end of the swim came quickly and muddy. I swam all the way to the exit stairs but couldn’t see or breath. The water was black at this point and people were everywhere. Volunteers were helping us out and pointing us where to go! The wetsuit stripper had me out and into the tent before I knew it. Onto the bike!

The Bike:

Grabbing Chicky and off I went. The climb out of transition was big so easy spin and up I went. I swear everyone passed me and I was loving it! As soon as I exited the park and crested the hill my family was there. Orange shirts with my name and race number!! Holy, Moly, AWESOMENESS!!! They were cheering me on and I was on top of the world. Sticking to my zone and planning an easy first 56 I just kept spinning. After passing the initial crowd the rest of the bike course was relatively vacant. There were patches here and there of people but the crowd support was pretty much non-existent. The road was a highway and had many obstacles in it. Potholes, cracks and then it was getting littered with everyone’s gear and nutrition.  I kept my HR about 5 beats lower than I should’ve just to save for the last half. Again, this being my first full, I wanted to make it to the end. Still being passed, I saw many hammering and really pushing. All I heard was Rotelli yelling at me to stay in my zone…so I did! There was a terrible crash about 10 miles out from special needs. People were there to help or I would’ve stopped. A girl looked up at me covered head to toe in blood and a guy was holding his arm as blood had now turned his kit to a bright red. I felt very bad for them and was thankful I was still right side up. Pulling into special needs they were yelling my name. A volunteer approached me with my bag and I exchanged bottles, filled my aero bottle and off I went. Coming to the turn-around I saw those orange shirts and my beautiful bride to be! Tami, Wendy, my Mom and Dad!! Can you say re-energized! It was on! I started to push a little more than the first lap and what do you know…starting passing all of those people who passed me. There were some great down hills but Chicky had some head shake the second I was up in speed. Not sure if it was the 808’s but I wasn’t taking chances so I used caution descending. (if anyone else experienced this let me know) At mile 70 I pulled my waffle from my kit and the rest of my waffles flew across the road. They were ran over and out of the package (I cut the tops off before the race) so it was no use stopping. The good thing was that the next 5 miles flew by as I was busy figuring out what the hell I was going to do.  Because the road conditions were so bad in spots there was C02 cartridges, tubes, tires and nutrition everywhere. Basically if I needed something all I had to do was pull to the side of the road and grab it off the ground or ask someone who was there fixing a flat. I decided not to eat anymore and just rely on my Infinite and water from aid stations. The last 10 miles sucked! A strong head wind came in on top of the long climbs and it was starting to get hot. It really felt as if I wasn’t moving. All I wanted to do was get off the bike and start to run. Coming back into the park I saw my mom and dad again! Energy boost!!!!!!!!

The Run:

Out of my shoes and coasting down the hill (thank God for the volunteer pointing out the large bump or I and probably others would have been on our faces) I pulled to the dismount. Grabbed my bag, into the tent, fuel belt, lathered in sunscreen and out I went! That bitch of a hill was the first part I needed to get out of the way. My legs felt better than ever before and I was looking for a very fast marathon. HR stayed where I wanted and I trekked up the hill. Unfortunately, the hills didn’t stop! SHEESH! One, after another, after another…I was afraid to run down the backside as I knew I would have to run up on the way back. I stopped to use the bathroom once and then I found a savior. Jimmy is his name and we started to run together. Our pace was perfect! We decided to walk aid stations and just talked the entire 15 miles left getting out of the park! Others joined us and some stayed and then dropped but we stayed together. The course was BRUTAL but fun because we were doing this together. Amazing how good you feel when suffering with someone else. Lol!! My right foot was hurting pretty good as the blisters started to multiply. Jimmy and I talked about changing socks at special needs but I was soaked and continued to poor water and ice on me. It would have been futile. Sharing salt tabs and swapping stories we pushed on. A half mile before the bridge was the last big climb. Two spectators were handing out water bottles on their own and it was a welcome. We were hot, beat and desperate. I started to feel very VERY bad and told Jimmy to go on. He declined and said “we will finish this together! Us to the end!” How awesome right?! I was touched but I couldn’t let his Ironman experience be affected by mine so I insisted he go. He did and that is when my darkness hit.

Darkness:

I have never experienced feeling the way I did approaching the bridge. When I tried to talk it didn’t seem to come out. Volunteers at the aid station were cheering but it was like I was in a tunnel.  That’s all I remember. The rest of this is what was told to me- The other side of the bridge (don’t remember crossing it) my family was waiting for me. Tami said I took off my fuel belt and went into a porta potty. I threw up and had diarrhea. When I came out they said I was a zombie. Just walking aimlessly and not acknowledging anyone. A volunteer was walking with me giving me cups of water and ice but I had no response. I just walked. I remember thinking to just lie down and go to sleep. When I started to come around I was surrounded by medics, fire fighter and 2 doctors. I had a cuff on my on arm, a monitor on my other and I was sitting on a bench looking at the river. There were a bunch of empty cups next to me and puke between my legs. The stretcher was behind me and the ambulance had the doors open. The doctor yelled to a volunteer to get me more chicken broth and was asking me questions. He asked my name and I told him, Ryan. They all smiled and said welcome back. For the next 45 minutes they told me what had transpired. When they saw me walking I was stumbling out of a different porta potty in the grass next to a park. They asked me my name and my reply; “Im here for Ironman.” The doctor said, “no, what is your name?” My reply; “ Ironman!” I smiled as everyone was laughing a little but I was scared. None of this rang a bell and they wanted to take me to the hospital. My arm and hand were shaking and I didn’t know why and could not stop it no matter which way I bent or turned it. My foot was numb and my head hurt badly. We were at mile 20. Six more to go and I was an Ironman. My pleads were just to let me finish and I was starting to make deals. If I drink this and stay can I go then? Etc etc. They agreed and we sat and talked for some time. I must say the chicken broth tasted like shit but it along with the bowl of salt, Perform, water, ice, pretzels and anything else they stuck in front of me brought me back. The paramedic was about as nice as could be and they were all joking around with me making me feel great!

I cannot thank those people enough. For the life of me I cant remember their names but if anyone knows how to get a hold of them, I would like to send them a personal, very sincere, thank you. Without them, this story stops here.

Time to finish:

I hugged everyone and invited them all to Atlanta. Hope Tami doesn’t mind some house guests as Im sure I offered a free place to stay J They made me walk through the aid station and get more cups of everything to take with me and advised me to walk the next few miles and keep fueling. I had my orders and I was listening. By mile 22 when I entered the park I was feeling much better. The corner of the park I saw my dad. I stopped and told him what happened. He told me to just keep going and he would see me at the finish. I was doing great he said with a smile. I smiled.  No stopping me now!! There was a short hill so I continue to walk it and the rest of the way to the next aid station. There I would take in more of the same and try to run the rest of the way to the finish. Nothing was going to stop me now! Id crawl to that bitch if I needed to and I had the time. The goal I wanted was way gone and all that mattered was finishing and getting to my family. All of the sudden a guy on a bike in the grass yells, “Hey Ryan! How are you doing?” I panicked as I thought, who the heck is this and oh shit, now I’m  freaking hallucinating?!?! Turns out, Tami’s good friends from college came to watch and her husband, Dennis, who I never met, grabbed a bike to come find me as I had been missing for a bit. Phew! I reached out to shake his hand but he declined as the race people scared everyone from touching an athlete. They said they would be DQ’d. Thanks Irondouches !! I heard this happened a lot and it disappointed me. But it was great to see him and get some encouragement. Although I never met him before it was a comfort and feeling of a friend. I walked to the next aid station and said Ill be at the finish soon. Grabbed all of the necessary food I was told and downed two cups of nastiness they called chicken broth, but Im not complaining because it worked, and off I went. Not a mile later and I saw one of my best friends!! Chris Webb was in the park and cheering me on!! Damn was I glad to see him!!  He was smiling carrying red bull and jogged along side of me. We talked, and it kept me jogging. It was on! He told me to go to it and would see me at the finish! Oh I was ready to rock and roll now!!

One more aid station before another damn climb and I started to actually run. People were cheering me through the park. Everyone was yelling, “Go Newton!!” as I passed in my bright kit. “You look strong!!” “Way to push!!” I was flying. From the mile marker 25 I looked at my watch and decided no matter what, this would be my fastest mile of the day. Stupid decision perhaps but I was here to finish and finish strong I would. I came down the shoot and saw my parents, my sister and then Tami! I heard my name announced and crossed the line. A volunteer guided me through to get my medal, shirt and hat. Then I sat down and started to shake and feel like shit again. Dr. Salinas came over to help me. He recognized me as we met on Thursday at the expo. Super nice guy and got me to the medical tent.

After a brief stay with the docs I walked out to meet everyone. Glad to hug and kiss Tami!! Hug my sister Wendy!! Hug Chris Webb!!  And Julie Hogg!! They were all just as beat as me and I felt bad but so happy to see them and be with them. Tami went to get my clothes bag and I was told to go get food. When I entered the “area” there was a table with chocolate milk, water and coke to drink. As for food- grapes, pretzels and that was it! There was no place to sit. No tents. No party. Nothing. I grabbed a bunch of waters and walked out to meet my crew! We would leave and go have an awesome dinner elsewhere.

Outside of finishing my biggest want was to go to the party at the finish line and cheer in the later people. I heard stories from friends. Seen pictures of the parties and was told countless times how awesome and inspiring it was. I was also told that there is nothing like coming down the end of the Ironman. They said it is “the Ironman moment.” I didn’t get any of this. My finish at half Ironman events was much better. Much more heart felt and much stronger.  I didn’t get choked up, excited or nothing. All I wanted to do was see my family.

As for NYC- I don’t have a lot of nice things to say. The people were very rude. Everything was expensive and outside of the pizza and deli’s, the place smelled like piss. I could care less if I ever return. The following day we went to pick up bikes, gear and everything else only to find many were missing. Apparently the security guards decided to steal a lot of items and well…that’s New York. Funny, but when we arrived in Atlanta, the mayor was on the news talking about how we are not like NYC. We treat others with hospitality. I invite you all to come to Georgia! Have a peach and a smile and relax!

As for Ironman, I will be hard pressed to ever do another full. The course was tough and that was a good thing, the volunteers were great and the people I met like Jimmy were awesome!! But the satisfaction and fun of crossing that line didn’t exist. There was no more gratitude, in fact less, than crossing the line at a half.