Ironman Wisconsin is in the books and was the thrill of a lifetime. I’m kicking back at the family cottage near Lake Geneva and this is the most gratifying recovery I could imagine. just sitting on the deck with a warm breeze after a morning swim. It may be a couple days but I have dozens of blogs percolating in my head. Thanks for following the journey. Crushing Iron has just begun. 
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Welcome To Wisconsin #IMWI
The plan was to leave Tuesday night at 6:00, stay in a hotel 4 hours out of Nashville, then be in Wisconsin by noon. It didn’t quite work out that way.
We ended up leaving Nashville around 7:00, had to eat, deal with the dog, and only made it about 3 hours and stayed in Marion, Illinois, which seems to have cornered the non-traditional tourism market by housing both a VA hospital and a prison. Wednesday drive took about six hours and we got to Wisconsin about 3:30.
Rolled into my parents and, as luck would have it, there was a swim meet going on at the public pool I could literally see from my bedroom as a child. I walked over and got a little pre-race motivation from the kids. 
Dad manned the grill and turned out some amazing burgers before we settled down at in the War Room and went over mom’s plans for the Ironman spectators. 
So, anyway, honestly, I love my mother, but her computer is really testing my patience right now, so I will soon be in Madison, and give a couple more updates before Sunday. Thanks for hanging around all year and I can assure you this blog will continue after the race. I just learned 29 people from our training team are signed up for IM Chattanooga next year, so there will be endless fodder.
As always, I’d like to give a special thanks to my Uncle Kenny.
6 Days Out from #IMWI
Ironman Wisconsin is six days away, are you ready? Of course you are, and it can’t come soon enough.
I’m leaving Nashville Tuesday after work. I plan to drive about four or five hours and get a hotel so I can keep my sleep schedule on track. Then we’ll leave early in the morning and get to parent’s house around noon on Wednesday. I’ll go for a short 30 minute run around my childhood neighborhood, then kick back with mom and dad to plan their spectator day. (And yes, I’m open for suggestions from anyone who has great watching places).
I’m still not sure my family fully understand what’s going to happen on race day, but it’s impossible to know until you see it for yourself. It will be a very long day and while Ironman is a slow, drawn-out race, the story unfolds with amazing speed.
* There are some really cool shots from Ironman Wisconsin at this Flickr feed, including the two below: 
The energy before the swim will be off the charts. Friends and family will watch as 3,000 swimmers wade into Lake Monona and float for 15-20 minutes. Then, the cannon . . . followed by a mad rush of energy for racers and an anxiety ridden test of patience for those on shore. Then the emergence from the swim. What a moment. It’s hard to explain the excitement of watching someone you know rush out of the water then disappear into transition.
Fans will catch a brief glimpse as we spiral down the helix and leave for the hills. It will be another mystical moment, followed by a calm and re-group. They will walk to their cars as we begin our 112 mile journey.
The cars will park in Verona and the waiting game starts again. Then, out of nowhere, like a magic trick, we will fly by them on the bike. They will feel their hearts pulse, full of excitement and another bit of relief. IronTrac or My Athlete Live will keep them up to speed on our progress as they settle in with the party, which I expect to be rockin’.
We will manifest once more, then be gone. A rush, followed by relief, followed by calm and a long walk to the car and a trip back to Madison.
They will negotiate their spots and wait for us to return from this long, mysterious ride. They will be looking in our eyes for weakness, hoping it is nowhere to be seen. Several times they will project themselves into our shoes and be baffled by the idea of swinging our leg off the bike and deciding to run a full marathon.
We will dismount our bikes, gather our bearings, then slowly jog past them on the last leg of this monster. Parading our vulnerability in front of thousands on State Street and banking their encouragement to get us over the next hump, and the next . . . and the next.
I will tell them to bring chairs because, in a different way, walking and standing that long can be just as hard as doing an Ironman. Rest your legs while watching. We need you fresh.
I expect to hear and see people I know many times on the run course and believe me, it will be a huge boost. It all comes down to the run. I keep wondering what that second loop will feel like. When will I feel like “I’m on my way home?” Mile 14, mile 18, mile 22?
Either way, this run is very intriguing to me because after mile 14 it will all be uncharted territory. I will be an explorer who never knows what awaits around the next corner. The sheer fear and excitement are both why I came. The unknown is absolutely enchanting.
And so many people will be watching as the story unfolds. A long, slow drama that comes to a fascinating and unpredictable conclusion, for all of us.
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6 Days Out Lesson – Neighbor James
I think I told you about day 6 before when we was both on our weed eaters out front. Day 6 is some shit cause you start thinkin’ bout runnin’ away and hidin’ in dumpsters or at ya Grandma’s crib. Ain’t gonna work. You gotta get ya head straight and start hearin’ the music right. They warmin’ up the symphony and your ears betta get used to them sour notes.
Who Am I To Think You Care? #IMWI
I realize that triathlon lifestyle is new, fresh, and exciting to me. I also understand that I don’t “know” everything. In fact, I know nothing. I’m just trying to learn and become more in tune with my life, body, and what it all means. And I think deep down we are all about the same.
We want the same things. To feel safe, happy, and loved. It’s not about money, or shiny objects. When you have friends, a good circle of inspiration, and support, that’s really all that matters.
Triathlon isn’t about the races. They are certainly a benchmark for the work and effort, but races are just numbers. Getting to race day is what it’s all about.
I have no idea how many hours or miles I’ve put into race Ironman Wisconsin, and honestly it doesn’t really matter. The whole process is what matters because after I cross that finish line, the race is over.
What will happen if all of this was only about the medal? The highest of highs followed by the lowest of lows. Will I need another target or will I realize that I am still moving toward something bigger and more important that can never be described as something with form?
For years I have talked about what I call “designing my lifestyle,” and in all honesty, signing up for Ironman was a forced step in that direction. My life was becoming loose and unfocused, but most importantly, unsatisfying. It was filled with delusions and big, optimistic fantasies you discuss on a bar stool.
Oh, I had fleeting moments that “appeared” like the right direction, but, I’d always get hooked by a long cane like the Vaudeville player that wasn’t performing. I’d return to the stage, only to get cancelled again. Nothing stuck.
Ironman training has, in many ways, given me a renewed legitimacy to be myself. I know that sounds drastic, but I have worked very hard and hard work is really what it comes down to in life. You chip away the rust and something new emerges.
When I signed up for Wisconsin, I felt like an impostor. I wasn’t an Ironman, who was I kidding? But thousands of hours later, I know I belong. Preparation breeds confidence.
I have gone from someone who “thought” they could finish Ironman, to someone who knows they will finish. That is a huge distinction because I think most of us believe we can start a business or climb a mountain, but do we know we can?
All of these ideas, all of these dreams, are nothing without action.
As I get closer to the race I am reminded of something a random guy said to me, “The problem with most people is they get caught up in this concept of ‘premature optimization’ and nothing ever happens.”
We can plan all day, all night and the next day, but nothing will ever happen until we actually do something, or move toward a finish line.
We need to jump in that pool and swim two laps before we’ll ever understand what it takes to swim 2.4 miles. And let me tell you, it takes a lot. It takes a shit load of swimming to get your mind and body in that place. But, wow, what a feeling it is when you know you can swim that far. Or bike 112 or run a marathon.
I have heard it a million times. “I could never swim 2.4 miles,” and it always reminds me of the famous quote, “Whether you believe you can or cannot do something, you are probably right.”
Who am I to think I can write a blog about triathlon training? Who am I to think I can finish an Ironman? Who am I to think any of this matters to you?
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Day 7 Lesson – from my Neighbor James – They say 7 is a lucky number, but when you 7 days out from ya dance, that superstition get all crazy up in ya head. I was wearin the same socks all week and momma was like, “Damn, boy, I bought u some new socks and you gotta go stinkin up the house cause you worried bout your tap dancin.” She was right, cuz my feet stunk like the trunk of your damn car, Mike. Ain’t no pair of socks gonna win that race. Change that shit up.
The Quote That Blew My Mind #IMWI
Quotes come and go, but sometimes they hit like a ton of bricks and stick like tree sap on my windshield.
A few days ago I was feeling a little down and lacked motivation. Here I was, less than two weeks from Ironman Wisconsin and feeling sorry for myself, uncertain, and depressed. Then, our coach posted this:
“Need some motivation? Put your hand over your heart…. Feel that??? Some day it will stop….Now, go be amazing and do everything you’ve ever dreamed of doing.” – Robbie Bruce
Ironman Louisville Spectator Recap
It’s funny how a race that takes most athletes 12 or more hours can have so many urgent moments. Watching Ironman is the ultimate hurry up and wait scenario. It rattles your nerves, and even seasoned spectators flirt with exhaustion.
The entire day is like looking at a field of peacocks. A flow of visual distractions inject your mind like a with one powerful drug after another. The potential for obsession is endless, and after spending an entire Sunday in the throws of passion, I feel obligated to make a major confession: My name is Mike, and I’m an IronTrac-aholic.
Ironman has officially morphed into hand-held-crack. Hundreds of athletes, who have worked tirelessly to prepare for the race of a lifetime fly by on bikes while entire groups of spectators, young and old, are watching swim, bike, run progress on phones. One guy I talked to said he spent a good chunk of his day “watching” from inside a coffee shop.
But, Irontrac nearly flushed our drug down the toilet.
The night before the race we were trying to set up our IronTrac “watch list” and none of the competitors were showing up. We were freaking out. In a panic. Would we really just have to watch the race?? It appeared certain when IronTrac sent out this message on Facebook:
I have Good News and I have Bad News. Good News – the Athlete List is up and ready to go for Ironman Canada!! The Bad News – Ironman is testing out a COMPLETELY changed version of the Athlete Tracker for Ironman Louisville and unfortunately IronTrac will not work to track athletes racing tomorrow. This is what happens when you pull info from a ‘Giant’ and the ‘Giant’ doesn’t communicate with us. Thank you for your understanding and support. I will update you as we figure out things next week.
We stared at our phones in disbelief and passed consoling hugs around the room. Everything would be okay, we reassured ourselves, but the night before the race would be also be restless for spectators.
I was sharing a room with Robbie, who was racing, which added another level of anxiety to my night. I was quiet and trying to be respectful as possible, but the whole IronTrac thing had me on edge. Well, that, and the fact that I had some good friends racing in the morning.
I heard Robbie moving around at about 4 in the morning and could already feel the energy. The last two days he had a very calm focus on this this race. He coached us hard, but worked even harder. I knew he was ready to get last year out of his mind. As we walked to transition for a final check of the bike, he was as loose as I’d seen him and posed for an early morning picture in front of this . . . uh . . . novelty shop.
I watched Louisville last year and can’t tell you how much I love the swim start. The long winding trail of athletes filing down to the water is an electric sequence. I parked myself in the front row and texted back and forth to people who were with Robbie, Wasky, and Corey to find out when they crossed under the arch so I could get video of their plunge. It worked out perfectly and I caught each of them jumping in and swimming up the channel. (Though this is not a picture of that).
I watched for a little while longer, then we moved toward the Swim Exit about two miles down the river. I got a little sidetracked shooting video of the awesome scene unfolding in the Ohio River. The bridge backdrops were just spectacular and I lost track of time.
When I finally got to the Swim Exit, I realized I was trapped on the wrong side and didn’t have time to get around. I panicked and grabbed a perch about 100 yards away and thought I could catch them with my zoom lens, but it was a madhouse.
Robbie and Wasky started in the back of the line, but they are pretty fast swimmers so by the time they got to the exit, there were tons of people coming out at once. They were shouting names like rapid fire and I knew I was sunk.
Allison sent me a text message and said Robbie was out of the water in a blistering 55 minutes. I didn’t see him come up the ramp, so I ran to the other side of the changing tent, but his transition was less than four minutes and I missed the whole scene.
Then I ran back to catch Wasky and missed him, too. He was out of the water in 1:04 and I was running around like a wild chicken. I put my head down and ran to the street so see if I could catch his bike departure, and caught him as he blew out of town.
Corey was right behind them and I honestly can’t remember if I saw him at that point or not. The fast pace of an Ironman had my heart racing on the sidelines.
I walked back to my car and that’s when I realized IronTrac had fixed the problem. I was now a junkie on an all-day-tracking-bender that would start in LaGrange, KY.
I had genuine intentions of getting a bunch of good video and did manage to catch Robbie and Wasky go by on the bike the first time, but shortly after that I was ready to throw my camera in LaGrange’s community dumpster. It’s so hard to recognize anyone on a bike, and when you do, they are gone in three seconds. It’s fruitless. I put the camera away for the rest of the bike and simply enjoyed the festive atmosphere and cold $6 cheeseburgers.
After the guys came through the second time, it was back to Louisville for a nap. I figured I had around 2 hours to drive and rest for a few, but I may have slept 5 minutes before waking up in freak out because Robbie was rockin’ the bike and I suddenly had the feeling I may be underestimating his arrival time. I still thought I was cool, but two blocks from the Run Out, I got a text telling me Robbie was off the bike. Damn! I missed him again. Just then, I caught him for 5 seconds as he ran by me looking like a boxer headed to the ring. He was fired up, focused, and off the bike in 5:42.
I let Robbie go and stood at the Bike In and waited for Wasky, who was holding his 9 minute swim deficit to Robbie for most of the bike. He came in at 5:49 and gave me a thumbs up as he coasted into transition, which he cleared in just over 4 minutes. Here he is checking his watch before serving himself to the downtown furnace.
Now, it was time for Corey.
Corey and I met at the Rev 3 Knoxville in May. It was a brutal day in the opposite direction. Temperatures were in the upper 50’s and it was raining the whole race. The water temperature was 54 degrees and it was Corey’s first half. I felt bad that such a nice guy had to deal with those conditions as I slinked off after my Olympic.
Corey did a 6:30 that day, and logic would say you should at least double that time for a full Ironman, but Corey had other ideas.
He came off the bike with a huge smile in 6:06. You always want to say your friends looked great during a race, but he really did. I stood with his wife, Donna, waiting for him to come out of transition. Five minutes, six, seven . . . it was taking a while. His wife was getting anxious. “What’s he doing in there?” Eight minutes . . . then, just after 9 minutes, he came running out in his red and black top with the same grin. He was ready for his marathon.
This is where it gets dicey.
I walked with Corey’s wife to the halfway point of the marathon, which is also mile 1, 14, and 26. It’s a good spot to catch runners twice in about 10 minutes.
Robbie’s first run split was 7:24/mile at the 2.5 mile mark. He followed with a 7:38 over the next 3. He showed me his plan for the race and till this point he was dead on, all the way down to projected transition times.
Wasky started a little slower with an 8:45 first split, then came in at 10:16 for the next 3 miles.
Corey’s first 2.5 were at a 8:37 pace and he followed at 9:03 for the next 3 miles.
For an IronTrac junkie, this is heaven and hell. Refresh, refresh, refresh. It’s the perfect drug because it is often an illusion. You think you’re looking at pure information, but sometimes it’s cut with bad facts. You start doing math in your head and trying to rationalize what’s going on when you really don’t have a clue. They also give you weird split distances like 1.6 miles and 2.3 miles that are simply a pain in the ass to calculate. Then out of nowhere, you get another update.
Robbie’s next split average was 8:52 for 1.6 miles and while it seemed like a bad sign, you just never know if there was a hill or he was just backing off for a bit. But when the next one came in at 11:05, I knew something was up. All we could do was wait.
Wasky’s third split was a 12:41 pace and he followed it with a 12:51. I was with his parents and you could sense real concern in their body language. Mom and dad, standing helpless as their son is battling a war. It’s hard for anyone who hasn’t trained to this level to understand that it’s okay, even when it seems like it isn’t. Wasky was obviously in pain and he knew it was coming, just not so fast.
Corey also came in noticeably higher on his third split, 10:48, but followed it with a 9:45. It appeared Corey was settling in his groove, but Robbie and Wasky were waging war.
It took forever, but Robbie’s next split was 18:25 for 1.2 miles and, if IronTrac was right, I had a pretty good feeling his Achilles nightmare had returned. I know from experience your Achilles is not something to mess with and I pretty much figured he’d reached the end.
I’m still relatively new to Ironman and have always wondered why people wouldn’t just walk it in to get their medal. But, the more I learn, the more I realize it’s not about the medal. It’s about where this process of training takes you. And, especially if you’ve done multiple Ironmans, risky long term injury is a dumb idea, especially when you love to train and race like Robbie does.
By now, Corey had overtaken them both and came rolling through mile 13 like he was on a Sunday jog. You could just see it in his eyes, he had this thing. He swept around the block and came back through and nearly knocked me over with a high-five. He was strong.
Wasky was next, and he had that determined look I’ve come to know so well, but his legs were harboring a cramp fest. Every step was painful, but he kept moving. He came around the block and gave me a vicious high-five as well, then swaddled into the distance thinking about ways he could beat his legs.
I didn’t see Robbie until later, but I knew he had to be disappointed. So many hours. So much focus, ripped away by an injury. It can be a cruel day.
Now, Corey and Wasky were out on the second loop and all we spectators needed was patience. We charged our phones and refreshed IronTrac at ridiculous speeds. Corey’s splits stayed solid and we knew he was coming in soon. I took my place on top of the walkway and pointed my lens and waited.
Around 11:55 minutes after I shot him jumping in the river, I saw Corey’s red and black jersey in the distance. He had the same bounce in his step and was moving at at sub 9 clip. Not only would he finish his first Ironman, he would do it under 12 hours with an 11:57. A remarkable performance on a brutally hot day. Corey Coggins, You are an Ironman.
By looking at his pace, it was obvious Wasky was fighting cramps the entire second loop. I can’t imagine what he went through, but he was hovering around a 12 minute pace, so I knew that, regardless of the pain, he was still running. And even with an agonizing run that was surely below his goal, Wasky crossed his first Ironman finish line in 12:28. John Wasky, You are an Ironman.
I was super proud of all three of these guys. An amazing day on so many levels. I wish things could have turned out better for Robbie, but he’ll be back.
There were other great performances from people I know and/or train with:
Melissa Gomez 13:42
Lisa Kelley: 13:24
Ann Mallin: 13:14
Emily Ryan: 11:06 (5th in age group)
Daveed Jaime: 15:20 (Couch to Ironman in 3 months)
Rodney Bice: 13:30
Carrie Haapala: 13:58
Annapurna Slayman: 13:22
Paul Putnam: 15:27
And of course, Wil Emery, who I just met and realized is my neighbor: 9:26 (10th overall, 1st in age group, and Kona bound).
I have to admit, it was an incredible high, followed by a low the next morning. I’m past the point of being anxious for IMWI, now it’s just flat out impatience. I know the hardest part of these next 10 days will be calming my mind and beating off negative thoughts as I train less and sit around more. Clearly I am going to have to spend more time with IronTrac.
Neighborly Advice 14, 13, and 12 Days Out from Ironman
This entire list is here, but since I haven’t posted since Saturday I thought I would re-share some of my neighbor’s wisdom for less than two weeks out from Ironman.
Day 14 – You gonna think I’m full of corn, but when you two weeks away from ya dance, you gotta forget all the moves. Sit back with your friends and just talk about shit u don’t care about. Hell, my boy Mincie talked out both sides his mouth bout that damn Flipper show and I just shook my head and ate biscuits. Sound crazy, but he kept it real and real is what it is.
Day 13 – Okay, now I’m gonna tell u somethin, but it ain’t what you hope. You gonna start worryin’ bout everything. Like nightmare and dream shit that straight out a Stephen King movie. Like u tryin to spot that swim buoy but ain’t got no eyes or u runnin’ on hot burnin’ coals or u forgot ya swim cap. But that just ya mind fuckin wit u. I had a dream once and I was dancin’ on my damn hands. Ain’t that some Jackabilly?
Day 12 – Not gonna lie. Day 12 ain’t for nothin’ but lettin’ your nerves calm down from that Stephen King shit. Nothin else u can do, really.
**Ironman Louisville Spectator Recap coming in an hour or so.
Ironman Louisville – Friday Night
Fellow Fab 5’er, Daniel, and I just had a little dinner at Bearno’s Pizza. I ordered a family salad and we each had individual pizzas. Then we walked over to Ironman headquarters at the Galt House and found THIS on the IM registration table! 
More than a little bummed at the moment.
The mood here is calm. Didn’t see too many racers traipsing about, but did get a look at the mighty bridge that will not be a part of this year’s run course. I think it’s a fair trade for the heat this town keeps pouring on the athletes. Even tonight, the warm winds had me reaching to take my shirt off. 
Yeah, we went looking for some action at the Galt House, but didn’t see much other than this hook-n-ladder cruising the strip. I reasoned the mayor must have thought these guys were slacking and told them to go put out some fires. 
Inside the Galt House, it was a bit festive and Thelma’s Coffee House was clearly open, but nobody was working. Daniel graciously volunteered to serve many of the sleepy competitors. 
The practice swim is from only from 8-10! And this will not be wetsuit legal. 
If you’re caught in the river before 8 or after 10 you will be disqualified and escorted out of town in this horse drawn fairy tale. 
I really love this town for some reason. I think it’s because it’s so damn cool, but not packed. There are tons of great buildings and cool little places, but it still feels undiscovered. Not to mention, there are a ton of possibilities, and 1,000s of athletes will soon be exploring them. 
Feet On The Ground In Louisville
I just pulled into Louisville to spectate and the town is buzzing. I’m heading out to dinner, but will return with some pictures and any important news from the street. 
I can tell you this much, most of my crew has eaten and is taking it easy. The will do a short run thru tomorrow morning at 9 while I’m out riding the bike course.
I feel like a kid in a candy store and can’t wait to watch this race go off on Sunday. I rolled my bike into the hotel and everyone was looking at me like a rock star. Not really.
More after dinner.
Track The Fab 5 at Ironman Wisconsin #IMWI
It’s official, we are all signed up for GPS trackers at Ironman Wisconsin, so, if you care, you’ll be able to follow our journey in real time with the My Athlete app. It’s free.
The Fab 5
Daniel Hudgins – Bib #1112
Kevin Gammon – Bib #1284
Mark Scrivner – Bib #2109
Jim Schwan – Bib #2448
Mike Tarrolly – Bib #2705
The app is pretty cool and shows athletes moving along the course. We would love it if you happened to catch some video on your phone and send it to us later to help with our documentary. I’ll have a server address.
Please pass along this link to anyone you know who will be spectating Ironman Wisconsin and have them contact me if they’d like more information on how they can help with the film. I will also be posting an update on what everyone will be wearing so it’s easier to pick us out. Thanks for your help.
My email is: [email protected]
Day 16 Lesson from Neighbor James – Man, you start forgettin’ what day it even is. Could be Thursday or might be Tuesday. Don’t matta. You know what TIME it is. It time to put on that big ole’ watch and run your little white ass down the block a few times.