My Ironman USA 2006 Race Report

(Written at the end of the summer 2006 to friends who were trying to choose what training plan to follow)

My Ironman USA race report and thoughts from the past year...

I want to share with you my Ironman experience. What it is and has been
for the past year and a half. My race report is a little different than
usual. There is no play by play of July 23, 2006. Why? Because I feel
that that one single day is not what Ironman was about for me. It is so
much more. Ironman is....
A year and a half of hard training. Setting goals. Accomplishing what
others say you can't. Accomplishing what you thought you couldn't.
Pulling tacks out of your last damn tire and painfully riding 9 miles to
a finish on you rim. Cranky 5 a.m. swim starts. Meeting some of the best
friends you ever had. Charlie's Angels. Watching Bill and Alex kick
Mass-a-nothing's ass to the ground. Knowing that 22 Z's are out on the
same battlefield as you. Knowing that there are 100 Support Crew peeps
cheering you on. "What is Love". Listening to "Beautiful Day" for the
billionth time and still loving it like the first time you heard it
watching IMUSA 2005. Having a very supportive boss and co-workers. Susan's
awesome bike adventures. Knowing you can accomplish what you never
expected. Twelve workouts a week. Up to 18 hours a week spent training.
Getting sick of Powerbars. Puking Fig Newtons. Huge calves. Hard work.
Rewarding. Water stop pirates. Tearfully heading back out the door for
10 more miles after running 10 alone with Whitesnake's "Hear I go again
on my own" in the back of your head. Running in the snow. Glenn Echo 1.
Loosing toenails. Hours on a trainer. Squeezing in a 4 a.m. workout to
catch an early morning flight. Having your twin ride a bike next to you
during your first marathon. Tears. Happiness. More IOUs than you
remember writting. Dedication. Commitment. Having Ed "carry" you up
Skyline by blaring jock jams. Having the much needed support that only
comes from a team. Understanding the you don't always have to run every
race. Cramps. Sore muscles. New muscles. 10 pairs of the same sneakers.
Expensive. Priceless. Full of saddle sores. Blisters. Crotchitous. A new
physique. 6 a.m. weekend practice starts. Following you heart rate
monitor. A journey. A long workout. Meeting people on the run course
during the race. The feeling you get knowing you have inspired someone.
Being inspired by others. Bike dancing. Elizabeth's bike opera. Endless
mix CDs. A good friend believing in me to start this training in the
first place. Dragging yourself out of bed on a holiday or day off to get
a workout in. Painful. At times very crappy. Continuing on after you've
been told you have missed a cut off. Facing challenges and kicking them
to the ground. About finding a way. Seeing the big picture. Swimming
outdoors in the middle of October because you've got to. Running through
an upset stomach. What you live, sleep, eat. Something that takes over
your life. Siri Oswald. Alex Mirkow. Jessica Adelman. Justin Durst.
Elizabeth Barton. Marlene Tomaszkiewicz. Talia Moyher. Jenn "Flash" Byl.
Holly O'Conner. Pam Coleman. Bob Cox. Bill Hall. Betsy Elkinton.
Jennifer Schwartz. John Schlegel. Jenny Banks. John Mead. Tes Salb.
"Hunky" Jim Rauer. Scott Duncan.

We have all said it over and over in our race reports that Ironman is a
journey. It's been a long process of changes, overcoming challenges and
learning how to deal in situations. I removed the word "can't" from my
vocabulary when applied to myself and found that anything was possible
as long as you had the determination and desire to get it.

It's not the distance of the race you train for, but rather what you
encounter along the way. That's the journey. Don't let the season pass
by without experiencing it. Every meter, every mile and every minute
counts. Get out there and do it.