Prologue: Bear with me, we’ll work our way into the race itself. It is in my nature to weave things into a story, though, so I must meander my way to the destination with the tale.

1: Open your eyes

It’s December 2018, and I’m not well. Not sickness, just poor choices. Number 1 on that list: Insufficient sleep. I am averaging something like 4-5 hours a night and it isn’t functional.

I know someday I want to do an Ironman, particularly the full 140.6. I want to qualify for and run Boston. I want to challenge myself to execute race performances that I feared were long out of reach, such as a sub-20 5K, a sub 1:30 Half, and, if I’m truly dedicated, perhaps a sub-3 marathon. I want to travel to some races that allow me to enjoy portions of the world I might not see otherwise.

I focused on a specific goal: A full Ironman in 10 years. I was 37 at that time, so the target is no later than 47. I think it is reasonable, but it will require change. The primary improvement is priority on health. Better sleep, nutrition, and life management. With a steady focus on learning, preparation, and application, I’d have a decade to make the progressive improvements necessary to perform at that level.

2: Make a plan, see it through

I’d spend the next month researching athletic improvement and the elements to get there. My investigation would lead to various wearable products and the research around sleep, recovery, and HRV. I tried a few things, but eventually settled on an Oura ring and the HRV4Training app.*

Next up was nutrition, where I’d learn about the response to foods, spices, and alcohol. Foods that were good for recovery (anti-inflammatory especially, nutritional plans that would work better for sustained energy levels over time, and the massively detrimental effects of alcohol on sleep and recovery. (Consume wisely, there are consequences!)

Finally there’s the training element. I’ve tried a bunch of different plans for various races, from 5Ks to marathons to 70.3. The options are prolific, and my interest in experimentation put me in a position to try different strategies. But none of the training plans themselves taught me the most important lesson:

You will never hit every performance target, every interval, every session. You will stumble, you will feel dread, you will encounter setbacks. You’ll question your judgment, your methods, your dedication. And it’s OK! Build the consistency, forgive yourself for the missteps, and celebrate the successes. Most importantly, make sure your training lifestyle reflects your values. If you want to be there for loved ones, your job, your peers, then make sure you work your training around it and don’t sweat it if you’ve got to make adjustments that result in your training taking a backseat to the needs of others.

3: The way out is through

Along the way, life’s happened. COVID shut things down, and I hit strength training hard for a bit. This resulted in a better muscle mass and weight management in the long run (I know strength work seems distracting from swim/bike/run, but it is very valuable!). I’ve met people that give me better perspective on life and elements of sport. Personal circumstances changed, including a significant loss, that forced me to reevaluate how to balance the complexities of life.

I’ve done a variety of races since that fulfilled both the desire to try new things (my first time on an indoor track) as well as meet several goals (ran a BQ time, even if it missed the adjusted cutoff; ran a sub-20 5k two days in a row; continue to improve my half time, currently at 1:28 and I intend to improve that further).

I challenged myself to compete in six events at the USA Triathlon Multisport Nationals in April 2023. After doing a couple of events at the prior year’s event, I wanted to push myself further. A curious scheduling happenstance occurred: I’d compete in the Draft-Legal Duathlon on Friday, and both the Standard distance Duathlon and Aquabike on Saturday. In the course of those two Saturday events, I would cover 1500 meters of swimming, 80k of cycling, and 15k of running. Considering the fatigue of the previous days, I considered it a good measurement as a primer for a 70.3.

Without going into the specifics, I finished my races and realized I could be closer to the fitness level needed to be an Ironman than I previously thought. I just needed to pick a race.

4: Live the grind

Realistically, there were two easier choices to work with: Waco or Galveston. Waco’s mid-October race is nice timing in theory, but I did not think the late Summer/beginning of school year time frame would be a productive training time. It was enough to squeeze in a Sprint, but not the hours needed for the swimming and cycling training I needed to build my foundation on.

Galveston is the plan, then. After running the half distance at the Dallas Marathon, I’d have a couple of weeks to relax and enjoy the holidays before kicking off a training plan right around the New Year.

As implied earlier, the training ended up being a challenge. I did not swim nearly as much as I should. My long bike sessions would end uncomfortably, and sometimes at hours of the night that prohibited a follow-up run to complete the Brick. I did not maintain a stretching and yoga routine as intended.

(The running portion didn’t concern me, as I’m well trained and comfortable with the 13.1 mile distance.)

And then the real wakeup call: A few weeks before the race, at an event I was using as a warmup, I took a spill on my bike. My helmet did its job masterfully, and thankfully the bike took minor damage (only a shifter needed replacement).

It made me question a lot of my efforts. It damaged my confidence on the bike. It intimidated me.

Thankfully, channels of support convinced me it was merely another challenge to overcome. I was still capable of the task ahead.

5: I am Ironman

I hear the announcer as I approach the dock to start the swim. I’m exhilarated, nervous, ready-to-go. I’m also warm, since I got my wetsuit completely on much earlier and decided to hang back with the 50-55 minute group of swimmers.

Step 1: Fist bump the announcer. I’m determined to both complete this race as well as bring the enthusiasm throughout the day. I know I’m going to finish, and the first barrier to completion is getting out of the water in less than 70 minutes to make the cutoff. After that, I’ve got a lot of time to work with. So I want to share the excitement.

Step 2: Just keep swimming. After a short right turn, everything is to your left all the way into the exit point. I get to the first left turn, and suddenly lose my sights. A fellow swimmer and I pop up and search the horizon for the next buoy. After a short scan, I spot it and point it out to the crowd near me so that everyone knows where to go. I continue to push, take a couple of breaks from freestyle to go with a breaststroke for a bit, and keep my aim on finishing the most challenging portion of the race for me. At 49 minutes and 32 seconds, I exit the swim.

ARE YOU KIDDING? I WENT SUB-50?! I’ve barely completed two miles of swimming in the past month and I beat my expectation based on the group I left with!

It was a massive confidence boost. I walked into T1 ready to rock. After a quick bio break, I got myself ready for the bike, stopped by the volunteer tent for an extra hit of sunscreen, and headed out**.

Step 3: Get on Seawall Blvd and GO GO GO. Apart from a couple of challenges at the first two aid stations, I felt on top of the world. I road an easy pace out, and started pressing on the return portion of the course. I did my best to share my confidence and energy with fellow racers, especially my Team Zoot teammates. Even managed a couple of conversations with a couple of riders keeping pace with me. I’d end up finishing the bike in 2:47:14, and dare I say it: Everything was good to go for a finish. I don’t want to tempt fate, but the run is my event. I would take it on with fervor!

Another quick bio break, a change into my run gear, and let’s go!

Step 4: Do the work. I ended up maximizing my fueling strategy on the bike, and never needed to eat on the run. I made sure to get ice in my suit, water on my head, and carbohydrate drinks in my stomach. Once again, riding my enthusiasm and energy, I encouraged my fellow teammates and racers to keep forward progress to the end.

1:43:11 later, I crossed the line. I finished. After 5 hours, 29 minutes, and 45 seconds, I earned the title of Ironman.

Step 5: Enjoy it. I most certainly did. I continue to even now.

Epilogue: I will return someday. It was too much fun to stay away.

But I have things to do in the meantime. I’m in the middle of a lot of changes. They’ll be challenging, but necessary and worthwhile. I’m trading comfortable for the potential to grow. I’m focusing on the future, and pruning the elements that hold me back. Negativity and doubt can take a hike, I’m moving forward.

A phrase you hear all weekend is that anything is possible. 140.6 is possible. I will do it. I look forward to see all my fellow participants working hard to conquer the challenge with me. Godspeed to each and every one of you. We might be a bit odd for wanting to travel 140+ miles by our own power, but who needs ordinary anyway?

See y’all on the starting line!

*I recommend reading Marco Altini’s blog (https://marcoaltini.substack.com). He’s the creator of HRV4Training, and I find his research, writing, and findings fascinating to follow and reflect on.

**Let me throw a BIG thank you out to the volunteers. They were awesome all weekend long!