I am pretty sure that everyone getting this email has had the misfortune of hearing me drone on and on about my training for Ironman Canada (IMC from here on out). Some have unfortunately heard about it more than others, and some have had to deal with a lot more. I think the next time Bob says, "Sure dude, if you need a place to stay you can crash at my place for a little while", it will be followed by "but only for a little while and as long as you promise to limit the spandex and not shave your legs".

Alright, now I can talk about the race. Dang, what a dumb idea it is to do an Ironman. The swim was a little scary starting out; IMC was the largest mass start Ironman ever, with about 2600 people going at once. I started pretty much on the front line, and finished somewhere over 1000, which means that I was passed by about 1000 PEOPLE! I am pretty sure they all kicked/elbowed me at one point or another, not that I think the world is out to get me or anything like that. I came out relatively unscathed, though I did get kicked in the face twice. Matt ended up coming out slightly ahead of me, coming out of the water in 1 hour 10 minutes; I came out in about 1 hour 18 minutes.

My transition from the swim to the bike was a little slow, but that was fine, I didn't think that one or two minutes would make that big a difference overall, and I think that was born out through the day. The bike was both fun and painful. It was basically a one lap course with a short out and back section. The first 30-35 miles were over a mostly flat, or even a little downhill section. There was a tailwind, and though I didn't realize how strong it was at the time, it was kickin. I probably did that first 30 miles in about 1:20 or something (read: way too fast to be anything other than the wind). After that, the first big challenge of the course was Richter Pass, a climb that went on for about 6-7 miles that gained 1300ft. The crowds were incredible, and it was pretty easy to forget that I am not Eddy Mercx, though I did pass quite a few people, so that was fun. After the climb and descent and about 35 miles of rolling hills and slogging through some pretty nasty head winds (where I had been holding 23-24mph with a heart rate of 145, it was 16-17mph and a heart rate of 160), I came to the second major climb of the day. Though of similar length and elevation gain to Richter Pass, this climb to Yellow Lake started at about mile 85-90, so legs were pretty shot at that point. The crowds there were even more enthusiastic than those at Richter however, and I think that had much more to do with me getting up the climb than my legs did. The last 15 miles of the bike ride, though downhill, were much harder than I wanted them to be. The headwinds were kickin once again, and what should have been a 45 mph descent was taking some serious pedaling to hold 30 mph; not as much of a rest as I had hoped. Altogether though, I still had a REALLY fast ride; I got off the bike after only 5 hours and 35 minutes; Matt came in a little bit ahead of me at 5 hours and 24 minutes.

The second transition was also slow, as I have to admit that I was not really looking forward to the marathon. I had no idea what was about to happen, and that is probably a good thing. I was cruising along until I got to about mile 8, at which my knees (technically illiotial bands, but it sure feels like knees) started to hurt. I ended up telling myself that could walk through the aid station every mile, and then keep walking for a little way past that. At about mile 16 I caught up with Matt (who had put together a great swim and killer bike ride). We ended up walk/running the next 8 miles together, with me insisting that I was sorry that I couldn't run more, and Matt (who was rockin some intense Achilles tendon pain) saying it was no big deal, and that he didn't have a whole lot more left in the tank than I did.

With much self inflicted torture and gritting of teeth, Matt and I ran the last 2.2 miles through town to the finish line. I don't know how long it actually took us to run/stagger through that last mile, but it felt like about an hour and a half. We finally came across the line in 12 hours, 16 minutes, and 18 seconds.

It is pretty hard to describe how the finish felt, but at there are some pictures from the race. A warning is in order however, prepare for some awesome.

Thank you again to everyone who helped us along the way and made this possible!

Andy