I am an IRONMAN.

Back in July I really had every intention of updating this blog more often but training got in the way. As it turns out, Ironman training it takes an inordinate amount of time; however, all that time and effort actually paid off and today I am an IRONMAN. What follows is a fairly long and detailed account of everything that transpired that weekend because I don’t ever want to forget it. So you have been warned, dear reader, and I won’t judge you if you decide to stop reading half way through it.

Race week is not usually stressful physically but mentally because it is all about logistics: final bike check, packing (triathletes carry a lot of gear), traveling, checking in, attending all the briefings, and a hundred other little things. Even choosing which team t-shirts you want to wear during the weekend becomes an important decision. Usually having a checklist helps and, being a pilot, I had two. One week before the race I had all my gear and nutrition ready and I was feeling good because I had done a lot of planning. All contingencies had been accounted for and nothing could go wrong. But one thing I had not planned for was having to look for a hotel room four days before the race. I had made reservations since way back in October and I had chosen one of the hotels recommended by the organization. It wasn’t the closest option but it wasn’t terribly expensive and I figured there had to be transportation to the event. However, on Wednesday certain circumstances changed and we needed to find a room right in The Woodlands. As fate would have it, after a few phone calls we found a room at the Marriott for Friday and Saturday. This was the official hotel for the race and if it had been any closer, the athletes would have had to run through the lobby. Call it luck, expensive luck but luck nonetheless; and can you really put a price tag on the peace of mind of knowing that your wife and kids are going to be okay while you punish your body for over 12 hours? Besides, being so close so the race location made things like finding parking a lot easier. All in all that turned out to be a great decision.

We traveled to The Woodlands on Thursday and the only thing I regret is not arriving in time for the Pro panel. Her royal highness, Ms. Daniela Ryf, was there and my girls are big fans of her since I told them the story of how she won Kona last year. But then again, we weren’t really trying to get there for the Pro panel; we were on a family trip and it was probably more important to stop at Buc-ee’s.

Athlete check-in was actually very exciting. About two months before the race I got it in my head that I wanted to race with bib 1998 to honor my Air Force Academy class. Our nickname is the Dominators and that’s what I intended to do: dominate IMTX. With that in mind, I emailed the race organizers with my request and they answered that they would try to accommodate it. Imagine my surprise when the bib numbers were published and I had been given my choice. Of course that also added pressure because now I also had to make my classmates proud. I picked up my bib, transition bags and timing chip; and attended the briefings. Meanwhile the girls walked through the Ironman village and found a tent where they were giving away free beef jerky samples. Long story short, we are now buying our beef jerky online from our newfound friends in Wisconsin. The other highlight of check-in was picking up the orange bracelet that first-timers wear. I looked it often during the race. After check-in we made our way back to our hotel to get the transition bags ready. Even though I had already decided what I was going to put in them, it took a lot longer than I expected because I second-guessed myself on a few items. In the end I put more stuff than I should have and I am sure that slowed me down during transition. I should have listened to my sister when she told me to keep it simple, stupid.

On Friday we checked out of the hotel and made our way to North Shore Park where the swim start area was located. Friday morning is reserved for swim practice so it is an opportunity for athletes to get acquainted with the water conditions. In the case of Lake Woodlands this is actually important because the water is the color of iced tea. It helps to know you won’t be able to see anything past your nose and should expect more grabbing, slapping, pushing, pulling, shoving, and getting kicked in the face than usual. I also took the time to choose the landmarks I would use for sighting/navigation on Saturday. This is one of the few things I can probably do decently in triathlon as it is not much different than flying under visual flying rules. In fact, after I got out of the water, I started talking to a couple of guys who were discussing how they couldn’t really see the buoys because they were too small. I told them I wasn’t going to look for them; instead I was going to aim for a big white house on the edge of the lake on the outbound leg and just to the right of a big crane that was visible behind the bridge on the inbound leg. They seemed to like that idea.

After swim practice we went back to the transition area to drop off the transition bags and check in my beloved Hammerhead (yes, my bike is named after a shark). This was also a good time to explore the swim exit to plan my transition strategy. Experienced triathletes who are racing for time try to minimize the time they spend in transition so they can move on to the bike course. I am not an experienced triathlete so my transition strategy amounted to not falling on my butt on my way out of the water and making sure I put my cycling shoes on the right feet. We then checked into the Marriott and spent the afternoon relaxing by the pool. Before dinner Anama put on my Irontats because I am a rookie triathlete and that’s just the sort of thing we do to try and look more professional; and then we walked along the waterway to do some recon of the run course. The plan was to be in bed by 8 PM since my wake up call was at 3:30 AM, and while we actually managed to turn off the lights right at 8, I probably didn’t get more than a couple hours of sleep. Pre-race anxiety will do that to you.

On Saturday I got up and started getting ready for the race. Emotions were running high but I tried to keep them under control. I ate breakfast as I got dressed because pre-race nutrition is one of those things that can make or break your race before it even starts and my sister had already expressed concern about my meals. She wasn’t wrong; I probably didn’t eat enough carbs on Thursday but I think I did okay on Friday. Then I said good bye to Anama and the girls and walked to Transition to bring Hammerhead’s tires up to race pressure and do a final check of my transition bags. And that’s when things got real: Anama and the girls had left notes of encouragement in both bags. I didn’t read them as they were meant to help me during the race but just knowing that my girls had taken the time to write notes and sneak them in the bags that I had packed, unpacked and repacked three times made my eyes well up. I still don’t know how they did it and they won’t tell me. Around 5 AM I joined the gaggle as everyone was walking to the swim start which was about a mile away. For most of the walk I was next to a twenty-something athlete and his grandfather who asked him about his race goals. He answered very confidently that he was trying to swim in under an hour, bike under five and run a sub-three. Very impressive, I thought. I didn’t catch his name but I really hope he made it because that’s Kona territory. My own goals were a little different: finish with a heart beat and most limbs still attached. I almost didn’t succeed.

The view from the bridge overlooking the lake was pretty amazing. It was still dark and the water looked very serene, the proverbial calm before the storm. The shore was something else. All the athletes were getting ready and their sherpas were helping them get in their wetsuits and taking pictures. Some were stretching and warming up but entirely too many of them -myself included- decided that it was a good time for a final bathroom break. Luckily that only took 20 minutes. By then Anama and the girls had arrived with these big posters they had made. Another surprise. I can neither confirm nor deny that my eyes welled up again and at that point I knew I was in for a very emotional race. I warmed up as my coach and Paragon team honcho, Mark Saroni, had recommended and finally put on my wetsuit. We took a few more pictures as a family and finally we heard the cannon. IRONMAN Texas 2019 had officially started.

Based on my speed in the pool, I had estimated my swim time to be around 1:30 hours so I didn’t know whether to line up in the 1:20-1:30 or the 1:30-1:40 group. In the end I figured that it was probably better to be one of the faster swimmers in the 1:30-1:40 group as there would be less interaction (meaning having someone grab your feet as you try your best to get out of their way) with the other athletes. With rolling start procedures in place it took about 10 minutes to finally get in the water. By then I could see the pros already turning into the canal for their final leg of the swim but I had other things in mind: after a year of waiting, my race had finally begun. Any other day I probably would have been scared but as I was too excited. This was graduation and I was only too eager to get in the water. As I started swimming, I did my best to locate the buoys but it was hard because the sun was just coming up from our left and that’s my breathing side so I intuitively reverted to the landmarks I had chosen the day before. On the outbound leg I didn’t have any major issues. It took me about 10 minutes to get into a comfortable pace and my sighting was okay. One thing that surprised me is that in spite of the large number of swimmers, the water wasn’t too choppy, not anymore than a busy day at the pool.

After the turn my shoulders started getting a little tired but not too bad. Then about 45 minutes into the swim, I ran straight into the guy who was ahead of me. I don’t mean that I caught up to him; I mean I literally swam head first into his back because he had stopped suddenly. I stopped to see if I could go around him but he was freaking out and yelling that he couldn’t see the buoys. I tried to calm him down by pointing out the cranes over the bridge and telling him to aim to the right of them. He thanked me for the tip and resumed swimming, and all I could think was “dude, I’m the rookie here. I’m probably not the best person to ask for directions in the middle of the lake”. I also hope I didn’t hurt his back because that was a hard hit.

After turning into the canal I relaxed as the realization came that the part I feared the most, the swim, was almost over. However, I relaxed a little too soon as I ended swimming too far to the right of the canal and hit the wall pretty hard with my right hand. Lesson learned: don’t get distracted in the water. Finally as I was getting close to the exit, I spotted Anama and the girls in the crowd so I did what any sensible person would do: I stopped, waved, and blew kisses at them. Like I said: this was a graduation, a celebration for all of us. And then, as I made the final turn toward the exit, I felt it: a cramp on my right hamstring. Uh oh.

In the end my swim time was almost exactly what I had predicted: 1:33, so I was very happy with it. After getting out of the water and taking off my wetsuit with the help of the strippers (not as fun as it sounds), I ran up the ramp, grabbed my bag and went into the changing tent. There I read the notes the girls had left me and got ready for the bike. It was a painfully slow transition by any reasonable standard but I really wasn’t in a rush. To me it was more important to make sure I had everything I needed and that I was hydrated. I even took the time to rub some chamois cream on my nether parts to avoid chaffing on the bike. Finally I headed out, got my bike and headed to the mount line. Anama and the girls were already there so again I slowed down to wave at them before moving on to the longest part of the race.

The start of the bike course through The Woodlands was very uneventful. I was mostly keeping an eye on my heart rate which was somewhere in the 150s when I wanted it to be in the 140s. I don’t have a power meter so I use my heart rate to pace myself. The first 20 miles or so were spent through neighborhood streets before making our way to the Hardy Toll Road. And that’s where my amazing sherpas gave me the next surprise: they were waiting for me just before the first aid station. How they beat me to it, I’ll never know. Or rather, I know how they got there but I am still surprised because a lot of roads were closed and traffic was almost at a stand-still. I slowed down a little to blow kisses at them and then took some Gatorade at the aid station. Once on the Hardy, The first thing on my mind was to look out for the pros. IRONMAN is one of the few sporting events where you actually get to share the course with them and watch them race each other. Think of it as front row tickets to the main event, only you are on a bike and they really want you to not get in their way. The first pro I recognized was Andrew Starykowicz and he looked every bit like a man on a mission. I was probably pushing 23 mph and Starky just left me standing there. A few minutes later I saw Daniela Ryf and Jocelyn McCauley and they were right on top of each other, which by IRONMAN rules means six bike lengths apart. It was actually pretty easy to know they were approaching me because they had an entourage of motorcycles and cameras. Mentally I checked “getting lapped by Daniela Ryf” off my list of accomplishments and started focusing back on my race which was starting to go off script.

At that point in the race I had to deal with three things. The first was a strong headwind from the south. It wasn’t unexpected because I had been keeping an eye on the weather forecast but that didn’t make it any easier. So I just put my head down and kept pedaling. Now the thing about the Hardy is that it is a very long, straight, and boring stretch of highway without much to see in terms of a landscape, just concrete to the left and concrete to the right. It is just you and your thoughts so it’s important to keep them in check because it is easy to wonder off into dark places which must be avoided at all costs in endurance racing. But then other things started occupying my mind. Before I got to the turnaround point near mile 40, my stomach started feeling funny and I couldn’t figure out why. I had my own nutrition which I have been using for about six months and I had really been staying on top of my hydration. I figured the temperature and the humidity were going to be higher than what I am used to so I had chugged a bottle of Gatorade between each aid station to keep up with fluid and electrolyte loss. Now let’s think about that: I had chugged a bottle of Gatorade between each aid station which was about twice my normal intake. And then it hit me. My sugar consumption had been way too high. No wonder I was feeling sick. I had done exactly what I warn my kids not to do on Halloween. The lesson? Stick to the plan you practiced for six months.

I did some quick mental math and decided to modify my nutrition to adjust for all that sugar. I also decided to not take any more Gatorade and drink only water. My electrolytes, of which I already had plenty, would have to come from my gels. That turned out to be a good plan of action but I effectively had to ride for some four hours just trying not to vomit. The other thing that kept me busy was the cramp I felt when I finished the swim. Every so often I would put my hand on my hamstring to see how bad the pain was. There was definitely discomfort but I figured I had six hours to massage it back to health so I did. Other than that, I had some neck and shoulder fatigue at the three hour mark so I got off the aero bars and rode on the hoods for about 20 minutes to give them a rest. That wasn’t entirely unexpected because I had experienced the same thing during my long training rides and I knew how to deal with it. Luckily no other issues came up on the bike course.

Triathlon is not exactly a spectator-friendly event and IRONMAN races are even less so. In the days leading up to the race, Anama and I had discussed many times where she and the girls would be at different times throughout the day. I was of the opinion that during the bike they should stay in The Woodlands and find other activities to do. Anama was having none of it and made up her mind to be at the turnaround point where athletes started the second loop on the bike. That was at about mile 60 and it just so happened that there was an aid station there. So imagine my surprise when I approached it and saw my girls handing out water and bananas to the athletes. They didn’t just show up at the turnaround, they actually talked their way into the aid station and volunteered there for about two hours. As I wrote above, I was having some race troubles and keeping my spirits high was getting harder but there’s something about being surprised by your family and taking water from your kids (legally, too) that puts a big smile on your face and kicks your motivation into high gear. That was a big moment for me and it made all the difference in the world.

The other remarkable thing that happened on the bike was mile 88. I know the actual mile because I actually looked at my Garmin so I would always remember it. I was about 5 hours into my ride and I remembered the notes that the girls had left for me in the transition bag. Then I started thinking about how incredibly lucky I was to be racing an IRONMAN and emotions got the best of me. One of the great things about endurance sports is that you spend a lot of time with yourself so you think about a lot of things. For instance, I had written in mind maybe a hundred times how I would thank all the people that made this possible. At mile 88 I started thinking about my family and how much I owed them. I know the training had been hard on them for many reasons. For one, I had been a pain to deal with the last two weeks before the race. There was also the huge time commitment that is implied in an endeavor like this one. Back in December I had to make adjustments to my schedule after Martina asked me to please be home on Thursday nights which was usually swimming practice with my team. Then I remembered seeing them at the turnaround point and, as tears rolled down my face, I thanked the Lord for having blessed me with such a wonderful family. Yes, there is crying in triathlon. I made some mental promises to them and I asked for a miracle that I believe God granted me. I am now in the process of fulfilling those promises which I hope are permanent outcomes of this project.

It may seem that I did not enjoy the bike or that I was suffering throughout the ride but that’s not the case at all. Yes, I was having some trouble and things were not going according to plan but I managed my race successfully. I overcame the early digestive problems and my leg cramps were going away. But more than anything I was having good time. My sister Luisa and my teammate Emi both emphasized that I should keep my spirits high, smile, and enjoy the day; and they were right. I smiled a lot. There isn’t a single picture where I am not smiling at the camera. I also kept thinking about my classmates, especially my friend Susie (a cancer survivor who recently climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro), my friend Chip and his 500-mile ride just a couple of months ago, my sister Luisa who removed the mental tare I had about IRONMAN, and maybe ten other people whose stories inspired me to keep pedaling. Sure enough it was a very emotional ride but more than anything I was just happy and excited to be there fulfilling my dream. And as I mentioned earlier, I keep looking at my orange bracelet which says “I will become one” to remind me of why I was there. See, before starting the race I had already made the decision that I was going to finish it. I would not have toed the line if I had had any doubts but a lot can happen during 12 hours of racing and some problems don’t become obvious until you are past the 6- or 8-hour mark. How you deal with those issues mentally and spiritually is what makes an IRONMAN.

My bike split was just over 6 hours which was almost exactly what I was expecting. As I approached the dismount line my spirits were high and my legs weren’t too tired but, as soon as I stepped off the bike I felt something very familiar and completely undesirable: my runner’s knee. Also known as IT band syndrome, runner’s knee has been a recurring problem for me over the years. However, and quite mysteriously, it never appeared during IRONMAN training, not even during my 20-mile runs or my long bricks. In my mind I had accepted that swimming and cycling had somehow fixed whatever caused it and I couldn’t be happier. But during my taper runs I had felt it acting up and I had already decided to run with a knee brace. Usually the brace buys me at least 10 miles before the discomfort starts except this time it began the second I unclipped from the bike. Right then and there I knew and accepted that I was in for a very long and painful run. Time to put my game face on.

Transition 2 was another slow affair as I was mostly concerned with how I would manage the pain for the next, oh 26.2 miles. As I ran to grab my bag, I was going through its contents in my head. I knew I had some Tylenol that I was going to take and Ben-gay to rub on my knee to try and delay the pain as much as possible. I also had my knee brace which I hoped would help me though deep down I knew it wouldn’t. As I put on my running shoes and ate an energy bar, I read the other notes that Anama and the girls had left for me and with a new dose of encouragement, I set off to become an IRONMAN. The race was on.

The first few miles of the run were about as tough as I expected. My legs felt fine, or about as fine as they could be after riding a century, and my runner’s knee was just a mild inconvenience at that point. I just wanted to get through the first ten minutes so I could settle into my pace. The atmosphere on that side of the course was okay. There weren’t that many people and only a few teams had set up their tents in that area. There was little shade but the sun wasn’t too bad. At the aid stations I was mostly taking fluids and putting lots of ice down my tri-suit to stay cool. They also had wet sponges that provided a lot of relief. My knee brace wasn’t doing much and it actually kept coming loose which was a big distraction. Just about every other minute I had to readjust it. Then, at around mile 6, I came across Steve Soileau.

As my runner’s knee was getting progressively worse, I was looking for other things to keep my mind occupied so it was a welcome surprise to see someone running with a rugby ball. He was about 200 yards ahead of me when I first spotted him so I decided to catch up and ask him the story behind the ball. It’s not everyday you see someone running with a rugby ball let alone at IRONMAN. Steve then told me a story that made my eyes well up. He had lost his son, who was a rugby player, in a car crash recently. The ball was his son’s and ever since then he carried it with him. He had trained with the ball and was racing IRONMAN with it to promote rugby and their local club. Right then and there all my race troubles seemed so very small and my knee pain went away for a few minutes. We only ran together for about a mile but Steve’s story resonated with me the rest of the race. To this day I still tell his story to as many people as I can.

After meeting Steve I finally reached the back side of the course which ran along the canal. The atmosphere there was something else entirely. All the families were cheering for their loved ones, the local tri clubs were playing music, and you could feel the energy in the air. I made it a point to high-five as many little kids as I could. It made them happy and it kept my mind off the pain that was developing on my knee. Then, as I ran past our hotel, but on the other side of the canal, I heard Anama and the girls screaming my name. It was another one of those shots of energy that I needed to keep my spirits high. I had studied the run course so I knew that meant I would be seeing them in about 10 minutes. In the meantime I enjoyed running past the much ballyhooed Hippie Hollow which lived up to its reputation as one of the most energetic areas of the course. Those guys know how to party.

Near the end of the first loop, I finally made it to Anama and the girls and of course I stopped and kissed them. Really who cares about a minute or two when you’re racing for over 12 hours? Stopping to say hi to your family in the middle of IRONMAN is priceless. After all this had been a family project for the better part of a year and it was finally ending. It was also another shot of positive energy timed perfectly. Anama ran next to me for about a minute and I got a chance to tell her about the knee. I tried to downplay it but really there was no hiding it as you could plainly see in my gait that something was wrong with my left leg. Eventually she headed back to the girls and I set off to deal with the second loop of the marathon.

The second loop was fairly uneventful. I had accepted that I had to deal with the pain as best as I could. The start was actually pretty cool because team Moxie was playing music very loudly -as they do- and I made it a point to run-dance as much as I could. Farther down the course other teams were following suit and had their speakers on. I remember dancing to the music stylings of Selena (both Quintanilla and Gómez), Madonna, Metallica, and Justin Bieber among others. Now I am not exactly a Bieber fan but 10 hours into an IRONMAN with a bum knee even his music sounds good. Remember I said there are problems that only develop deep into the race? Yeah, that’s one: your music taste goes down the drain. Then again it’s not like you get to pick what plays next so you make the best of it and use any excuse to distract your mind. All in all, my spirits were still high. Yes, my knee was giving me trouble but my pace was steady and just a tad slower than I wanted. And I kept reminding myself that I was racing an IRONMAN! I mean, how could I not be excited! As I ran past the lake I remember thinking “I can’t believe I was swimming there this morning!”. The whole scene was very surreal. At that point I also decided that I was going to stop for my special needs bag. In it I had Alleve which I hoped would help with the increasing pain. It didn’t.

My nutrition was really going off script though. I didn’t want to ingest any more gels so I took some pretzels at the aid stations in addition to water. I also took some BASE salt, which I had never used, and decided to give it a try. By that I mean I downed an entire vial in one go which is way too much. Not surprisingly my stomach protested and at the next station I was ready to down some flat coke, which I had also never tried before under race conditions. The trick worked as my stomach eventually calmed down. I was relieved; I really didn’t need any more distractions.

As I made my way through the back side of the course I started paying more attention to my surroundings to keep my mind away from the pain on my knee. I remember admiring the houses by the lake and reading the signs that team Valhalla had left for its members. Once I reached the canal again, I just tried to enjoy myself and feed off the energy of the crowd which was incredible. I was past the half way point of the marathon. I could see the finish line. By then my knee was in severe pain but I wasn’t about to stop. No way, no how.

After about 18 miles I reached Anama and the girls for the second time and of course I stopped again. I hugged and kissed them knowing that the next time I’d see them would be at the end of this adventure. Talk about a shot of energy! After all of those long months of training and preparation, it all boiled down to the last 9 or so few miles. Anama again ran next to me for a minute or so and we took a couple of selfies because we live in 2019 and that’s what we do. So off I went, one more loop. I could hack it.

Those last few miles were one of the toughest tests I’ve had to endure. They would have been hard either way because I had been beating my body to its limits for 11 hours but by then the knee pain was an 11 on a 10-point scale. I believe the technical term is please-cut-off-my-leg excruciating pain. Running by team Moxie, the lake, and the other team tents helped as I was able to mentally check out for a few seconds and smile but the truth was the pain was becoming unbearable. My strategy for dealing with the race became really simple: jump from aid station to aid station, take water, pour ice down my tri-suit, eat something, and go. Here I also need to point out that throughout the whole ordeal I had been readjusting my knee brace every 5-10 minutes because it kept slipping off which was extremely annoying. Usually at the aid stations I only had to slow down a little and maybe walk a few steps to drink water and eat pretzels. Then I grabbed another cup of water and actually splashed it on my face because temperature control becomes very important. The other thing that I learned is that running with a bunch of ice down by your private parts is not as uncomfortable as it sounds. You get used to it.

With 7 miles to go, however, a new and unexpected thing happened. I don’t actually know if this is scientifically true but I think that because my left leg wasn’t doing its part, my right leg was working overtime. The end result was that I developed cramps on my right quad, hamstring, and hip. And they were hurting. I remember looking down at my legs and seeing them shake uncontrollably like jell-o, the left from knee pain and the right from cramps. Mysteriously, though, my pace was still strong and right about what I was expecting. At mile 20, though, I actually had to stop at the aid station. Bad mistake. When I tried to run again, those first three steps induced the second worst pain I’ve ever felt (the first was when I was run over by a boat but that’s another story). At that point I knew that if I stopped again, my leg would seize and I wouldn’t be able to finish. Thus, I decided that I would simply not stop for the rest of the race. I would forgo hydration and/or nutrition but I could not stop. I could walk briskly but not stop. I also thought about those long training days and imagined where I would be with 6 miles to go. It helped. I knew exactly how to pace myself.

Once I reached the canal for the third and final time, I knew I was going to make it. I kept high-fiving all the little kids and enjoying the music. As I approached the hotel across the canal I was wondering if I would hear Anama and the girls again. I didn’t have high hopes because I knew they were making their way to the finish line but then something wonderful happened: I heard someone yell “isn’t that Pablo?” It turned out that the family that had been next to Anama spotted me and started cheering for me. I don’t know who they are but here, in these lines, I want to acknowledge them and let them know that at that point in the race they gave me the last shot of energy I needed. For that, I can’t thank them enough.

Once I reached the mile 25 marker my emotions took the best of me. I could not stop smiling and I kept telling everyone that I was done. Now I know there are two occasions when I love everyone: when I’m drunk and I finish an IRONMAN. The final aid station had a bell you could ring if you were on the last loop and heading for the chute. I rang that sucker with all the strength I had. And as I reached the mile 26 marker, I started crying again. I was done. Our family project was over. I had overcome the fear of racing an IRONMAN. I thought about my sister Luisa, my brother-in-law Felipe, and my dear friend Augusto who were the catalysts of this adventure. I thought about the long training days and the swimming sessions of the past year. I thought about my teammates who I knew had been keeping an eye on me that day. To you, Team Paragon, I am forever in debt. And as I entered the chute, I zipped up my tri-suit (because you have to look good for the pictures), wiped the tears off my face, and soaked it all in. I saw Anama and the girls one more time and took two seconds to prepare to cross the finish line. Finally Mike Reilly called my name and I became an IRONMAN. My race time was 12 hours, 22 minutes and 41 seconds.

Writing this account has taken far longer than I expected and many things have happened since then. I hope I will write about them soon. But know, dear reader, that I have made good on my promises of mile 88 and that our family came out stronger. IRONMAN Texas was important to me. It was something I needed to do for perhaps selfish reasons but I hope in my heart that the lessons learned will benefit our family for a long time. I also hope that my daughters learned from my example that hard work pays off. But yeah, that feeling was worth every second of every minute that I spent in training over the last few months. I am an IRONMAN.