My First Half Ironman Attempt

 

Ironstar Half Ironman

 Montgomery Texas Lake Conroe

October 24, 2004

 ½ Ironman Distance 1.2-mile swim-56-mile bike-13.1-mile run

 

 

I was worried about the swim.  I was worried I would have to wear my too-tight wetsuit.  I surely hoped I would not have to.  I didn’t.  The swim took us down the boat canal, then out into the open lake.  There were some serious prayers before this swim.

  Once out in the open lake, I felt my timing chip strap on my ankle coming loose.   I stopped and reattached the strap, dog-paddling all the time.  When I looked up from all this, my crowd of swimmers was gone, and   I was alone in the middle of Lake Conroe. 

That was when I started talking to myself.  Peace be still! The verse of scripture came back to me.  My stroke lengthened as a firm calm settled in. I passed buoys on my right one after another.  I was on course.  A fisherman in a small aluminum boat puttered by without seeing me.  Now the strokes were feeling powerful, and after a couple more buoy passes, I overtook some swimmers.  Pulling through my group of swimmers, I began to catch some of the slower ones from the previous wave.  This was one great swim.  Getting out, though, was a deep landing in a very muddy area. Thank God I had help. 

I was pumped from the great swim and had a fast transition besides.  Out on the bike right away, I started passing folks, but I could only get one gear.  The shifters on my bike were not working.  The next few miles consisted of passing people and then stopping to try to fix my shifter. I could not shift from the small to the big front chainring.   Finally, I gave up and decided to just do the bike course in one gear, the big gear, my favorite. So, let’s go.  I was really into it; taking the hills, passing everyone I came to, I was on fire.   Soon, I had passed everyone I could see and found myself all alone on the course.  After a couple more miles, I still had not seen another rider.  Did I pass everybody?  I doubted it.  Am I lost?  Maybe.  Did I take a wrong turn?  Did I miss a turn?  Where am I? Then I fought my way up some hard hills, which I didn’t think were supposed to be on this part of the course.   My legs and my body were starting to feel the effects of “too much too soon.”  I was getting tired.

I climbed one last bad hill, then the road dead-ended into a major highway. Definitely, this was not on the course map.  I was done.  Down on the right, I could see a convenience store.  These were the days before the ubiquitous cell phones, so I would need to go to the convenience store, borrow a phone, and call my Pat.  

 It was Sunday morning and I created quite a stir when I entered the country store dressed in spandex, race number hanging from my waist, and numbers painted on my arms and legs: not your usual Sunday morning country store weirdo.  Once they realized I was harmless, the folks there were nice.  I guess they humored me some. 

 My zeal for the bike had obviously caused me to miss a turn somewhere, and I had gotten several miles off course.  The race was over for me, and my half Ironman attempt was aborted for that day.

 

 

 

 

Yet Another early Triathlon.

 

BTU Triathlon

 April 30, 2006

Lake Bryan, Bryan, Texas

 

500-yard swim-14.5 bike-3.2-mile run

 

This was not the most well-organized event I had been to, but they did have carpet laid in the entire transition area – looking for a positive.   The swim was uneventful, other than the usual jump starters swimming like fury only to end up dog paddling and gasping for breath two hundred yards out.

 

One thing I was truly impressed with was a young man who walked up to the edge of the lake for a swim warm-up before the race.  He reached down and took off a leg, then stood on one leg before he entered the water.  The next time I saw him was halfway through the run.  It had taken me that long to catch him, and I probably would not have caught him at all if he had not had to deal with that prosthesis hurting the stump of his leg (see photo)

 

It was hard to get the momentum up on the bike, but once I did, I began to roll pretty well.  I can remember coasting down a hill tucked low in the drops, gaining speed all the way down, zipping by another rider who was peddling like crazy.

 The run was a maze of off-road trails- not my favorite type of run course.  The winding weaving nature of it all left me without a sense of how far I had gone or had to go.  There were no mileage markers out.

 

Finally, the course went onto the earthen lake dam and we ran on that.  A man in my age group passed me.  I thought of making a race of it, but I just did not have a race left in me. In the last part of the run, we had to get off the earthen dam by coming down a slippery clay hill, then crawl over a log.  This was not my favorite part of the event.  But once the log crawling was done, there was pavement, and I finished with a clop-clop from my mud-weighted shoes. 

They had the age groups messed up. Somehow, they got me in a younger age group, and I did not place.  I would have been second in my correct age group. 

It was still a good experience.  A friend of mine got out of the swim, went to her bike, only to find she had a flat right there in transition.  So, I was thankful for a good race.

Another Early Triathlon- Good Days

 

Metroplex

 

June 10, 2007

Joe Poole Lake-Grand Prairie, Texas

 

800 Meter Swim-15 Mile Bike-5K Run

 

This was the last time I did this event.  I love the venue, but it has since been reduced to a mini-sprint.  This would be great for first-timers and one-timers who want to say they did a triathlon, but it no longer suited my purpose as far as event distances.

 

The swim had to accommodate choppy waters.  In the belly of some of the waves, the swimmer would often encounter water grasses.  Some got pretty terrified with stuff touching them all the time.  I did hear someone asking for help there.  After stopping my swim, I tried to see where the voice was coming from but could not. Bobbing so in the waves made good vision difficult.  However, I did see a kayak come over to the area from which I had heard the call for help.  So, I felt good enough to swim on.  However, another kayak sort of ran over me out there in the waves. 

 

 

 

And saving the best for last, I had my best bike leg ever here on this date averaging over twenty miles per hour.  This could hold up as my lifetime PR bike split.

 

 

 

 

The run was the usual out and back on a flat, hot course.  I finished strong and was third in my age group.  Good event; good performance.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Olympic Distance Early Triathlon

 

Wool Capitol

San Angelo, Texas

August 13, 2005

1500 meter swim-40K bike-10K run

 

I wrote an article on this event that is the final story in my book,

 I Hear Footsteps.  The story is called “And the Last Shall Be First.”

 

There were ominous dark clouds and rumbling of thunder in the distance on race morning.  However, I really got into a rhythm on this one that is hard to describe.  It was sort of the endgame of what is sought in all of this.  Nothing exceptional about the times of the three disciplines.  The run through the “dirt road from hell” was its usual misery; hot, sandy, without shade.  The finish line crowd was essentially only the timers and chip removers. As always, my faithful wife was at the finish; the only one cheering me on, having patiently waited out the entire race in the heat and always being my number one fan. God bless her and thank God for her.

And the Last Shall Be First

The Perfect Race

 I started doing triathlons in the year 2001.  No, I have never really been any good at it, but I have experienced myself being extended by it, both in my training and through the events themselves.

 August 14^th, 2005, found me in San Angelo, Texas, about to attempt my thirteenth triathlon, an Olympic distance triathlon (1-mile swim/25-mile bike ride/6.2-mile run, approximately).  Waiting in the dark for the swim to start, lightning flickered on the horizon.  However, the storm was to abate until the event was completed.

 As we lined up on the boat ramp to go into the water for the swim, I bowed my head in prayer.  Later, I was to find out that I wasn’t the only one praying at the start.  One man was actually down on one knee on the boat ramp, praying. 

 Ah, what a wonderful swim!  All rhythm and peace.  A sort of prayer in motion to the tune of the water sloshing and gurgling gently about my body.  Surrounded by this much peace, I could not help but pray, not for anything in particular, but about everything.  In the murky waters of the Concho River, I had found a heaven of sorts, within and without.  It seemed almost a shame when the swim ended, and I pulled myself up the boat ramp to the transition area. 

The bike ride was almost as transcendental as the swim had been.  The headwind hummed hard against my face, yet it seemed my legs pedaled almost effortlessly.  My mind drifted up into a higher plane, seemingly serenaded and caressed by the sounds of my tires on the pavement and the feel of the wind on my face.  A steep hill loomed ahead and my labored breathing soon accompanied the many other soothing sounds of that moment in time.  I was so blessed!  I could feel it!  Downhill – a crosswind now.  Yes, let the bike have its head to soar.  Faster, faster, faster still!  Now around forty miles per hour.  Suddenly, a fierce gust of crosswind gathered up the front wheel of the bike, skittering it sideways, causing me almost to lose control.  My spell broken, my caution renewed, I settled into a safer and more peaceful rhythm.

 No real fatigue was felt when I reached the transition area and began the run.  Rhythm again, peace again, in the moment again, striding off the distance over the red, sandy roads.  No participants were near me now.  I had been either very slow or very fast.  Most likely I had been very slow.  Rhythmic strides brought completed miles and I heard my feet on pavement.  I saw the sign that said I had completed 6 miles of the 6.2-mile run course.  I was almost finished.  The lonely finish line was just ahead.  No participant was near.  No real crowd at all, and not many cheers.  The finish line clock said three hours and eighteen minutes, a full six minutes slower than when I had done this event before.  No matter.  I was not spent.  There was only a joy I could not describe, a peace, which truly passed all understanding.  I was dead last in my age group.  But I was first in an indescribable way.  God favored me that day, made me feel special in His sight; which was a greater joy than if I had finished first in the race.  Ah, yes indeed, “The last shall be first.”  –Amen.

 

 

Still Another Early Triathlon Event. Metroplex

 

Metroplex –Grand Prairie, Texas

 

June 12, 2005,

Grand Prairie, Texas, Joe Pool Lake 

800-meter swim, 15-mile bike, 5k run

My son did this one with me.  He had an injured ankle from a motorbike accident, but he soldiered through, and I was proud of him for it. 

This was probably one of my best overall performances.  I had a great swim – probably my best at 800 meters – I biked a personal record (at that time) of 19 miles per hour and followed with a good run.  I transitioned well too: solid effort, the kind you strive for.

 

On the bike, I was passed by a man in my age group.  That made me catch fire, and I stayed with him all the way to transition.  He was wearing bike shoes and cleats.  I always ride in my running shoes, so I knew I would out-transition him.  Sure enough, I passed him as he clop-clopped to his rack area.  I put my bike up, put on my cap, and left on the run while he was changing shoes.  I never saw him again on the course.  

It was hot, very hot, coming back on the run.  I kept passing a young man who was walking, and then he would run to pass me.  

We did this a few times. Finally, I passed him, and he said, “You’re the man today.  Way to go, Mister.  Good job.”  Sportsmanship under tough conditions.  That is the essence of triathlon.  This was a good race for me, and I thank  God for it. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Another Early Event --- Miles of the Journey

 

Boomtown Tri

 

May 18, 2003, Beaumont, Texas

 

300-yard Swim-10-mile Bike-5K Run

 

 

The water was clear in this small lake used predominantly for water skiing.  On the back side of the lake was a swampy area. I remember asking a local if they had any alligators in this lake.   He answered me something to the effect, where did I think I was?   I just hoped that they all had been run off or cut up by the ski boats which frequented these waters.  It was an uneventful 500-yard swim, other than almost everyone started too fast, and by 400 yards, half the folks in my group were doing all kinds of swim strokes other than the crawl. Some were just floating and puffing, trying to get their breath back.

 The bike was on the feeder roads of an interstate.  With the flat, smooth pavement of the feeder roads and my son’s cross bike, I had a good bike leg, but still got off the bike thinking I could have done a little better, could have pushed a little more.

  The run was hot and sweltering.  The course led us off into that swamp at the back of the lake.  The dirt road was built up right out of the swamp, just a levee with swamp and probably gators on both sides.  I am not fond of trail running anyway, and  I  was certainly not fond of. this particular course. The course crossed a little suspension bridge over the swamp.  Yeah, there had to be gators there, for sure.   Coming back out of the swamp, I sort of caught fire and finished strong, with my wife cheering me on.  God bless her.

 

 

I actually finished first in my age group, but the race folks got messed up on the age brackets, and I ended up with second place. That was fine.  I was glad I was not flirting with last place anymore. 

 They never had this event again, and I think the lake was filled in and some other business put in there.  Probably, the gators had to move too.  But it was a good day.

 

And, Yet Anot er Early Triathlon Along the Miles of the Journey

 

Metroplex

 June 13, 2004,

Joe Pool Lake - Grand Prairie, Texas,

 800-meter swim, 15-mile bike, 5k run

 We pulled up to Joe Pool Lake in the dark, and I could hear waves crashing up the shore…Oh my!  As the song says, “This could be the day that I die.”  Daylight revealed it was not quite as bad as it sounded, but there were quit a  few whitecaps out there.  The swim was a challenge.  Sometimes, when  I was in the belly of a wave and could not see much.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sometimes a wave would lift me suddenly, and my arm would come out of the water prematurely during the stroke.  Sometimes the belly of the wave brought me down into the submerged hydrilla, and I had to try to pull or shake the weeds off and soldier on.  But I did it, and all in all, it was not all that bad. 

 Initially, the bike ride was into the wind, but the course turned back, and that put the strong wind at my back.  With that wind assistance, my speed increased.  The smooth pavement on the main road was a big help, too, and this was turning into a great bike ride. up.   I found myself going faster than I ever went over that distance.  When I turned back into the wind, that same "hair on fire" spirit pushed me hard on the way back.  I was winded at transition, but ultimately it was a fast bike split, the fastest I would ever do.

 

The run was flat and out and back. The heat was oppressive, but I finished feeling good about my performance and got 3^rd in my age group.  Yeah, I have memories.  But, how great it would be to live this one again.  Thank you, Lord, for these moments