Ironman Wisconsin

February 7, 2014

A Swimming Breakthrough and Jodie Swallow #IMLOU

Yeah, so I was looking around at some YouTube videos on how to get faster and stumbled onto this one featuring the badassness of pro triathlete Jodie Swallow. Now, my disclaimer here is that Jodie could probably talk me into swimming with sponges on my feet, but this video was pretty simple and made perfect sense. Just move your arms faster.

I went to the pool, armed with my Swallow security blanket and took off like a bat out of hell for the promise land. And it worked . . . for about two laps.

I was totally gassed.

I realize you actually have to be in shape to swim like this, but is three laps asking too much? Apparently.

Five minutes into my session I was swallowing pride at the end of my lane and halfheartedly listening to the same damn stories from the same damn guy who keeps forgetting who I am.

“I shouldn’t say this,” he says, “But I’m secretly racing you in the next lane.”

“How’s that goin’ for ya?,” I say again.

“Well, I’m coming off surgery, so I need motivation.”

“I hear that, bro.”

Then, as the conversation hits that awkward lull and there’s nothing left, he always, every time, looks at me like a little kid and says, “Wanna race?”

And always, every time, I say, “Yes.”

I exploded from the wall in Jodie Swallow mode and promptly roasted my soar-shouldered-friend for 50 meters before collapsing onto the ledge. I’m simply out of shape.

But, the more I swam fast, the more I started to notice I was getting a nice extension and roll without hesitating in front. A fluid churn with a solid cadence. Much like you want from your bike and run.

I wasn’t thinking “fast” as much as I was thinking consistent. Trust the roll and don’t pause or extend your glide. Just circle the arms and keep your body from turning over too far. It was one of those moments when something clicked.

It felt much more like I was swimming instead of trying to stay afloat. A consistent, powerful, and controlled rotation that didn’t wear me out. Of course I was pretty beat up when I discovered this, so I’m not sure it’s really true. We’ll find out tomorrow.

Until then, if you’re reading, Jodie, feel free to tell me I’m wrong before I do something stupid in Louisville.

February 6, 2014

Ironman Wisconsin Run Course Thoughts #IMWI

I was looking at the “search terms” people used to find my blog and one was “Ironman Wisconsin Run Course Tips,” so I thought I’d weigh in with a few “non scientific” thoughts. I’m gonna do it by “feel” and a sketchy memory, so don’t take it too seriously.

It’s a 13.1 mile loop that starts with a short and slow climb from the top floor of the awesome Helix transition. You go straight at, then around the majestic capitol, before tearing down State Street where “I Run for the Party” has real meaning.

My advice here is watch your speed. There are TONS of people cheering, and it’s mostly downhill, so it’s easy to get caught up in the moment. Thankfully my legs didn’t bend the first two miles so I didn’t have a choice.

When you leave State Street it flattens out for a while and you head toward one of the coolest college football stadiums in the country. I feel like it’s a little over 2 miles before you meet Camp Randall, home of the Badgers, and a short little staircase climb that caught the attention of my calves. Then you descend onto the football field, and while I am arguably the number one fan Badger fan living in SEC country, I didn’t really feel much like looking around. What I liked most was the soft turf surface that gives your knees temporary reprieve.

After you emerge from the stadium, you hit a small downhill then flat section that eventually takes you under a bridge for a short “out and back” which I hated. I loathe out and backs for some reason, and even though this was only a few hundred yards it got in my head a little.

Then it’s back into “somewhere” before you are dumped onto a trail that rolls between a bunch of University buildings along the lake. It’s kinda cool because there are students milling about and most of them look at you like you’ve been working out for over 8 hours.

Then it’s time for first of two substantial (by Ironman standards) hills. There’s and aid station at the bottom and I highly suggest you regroup before the climb. A ton of people walk these hills and I did for a short spell on the second loop, but they are not awful unless you are from Florida, and in that case, I recommend quitting.

After that, you wind to the right and close in on your second taste of State Street where people are five deep and scream some of the happiest sounds you’ll ever hear. In retrospect, this is probably where I felt the best on the entire run. It’s right around mile 6 and I suggest soaking it in. You’re about halfway into the loop and it’s loaded with electricity, which is good because the worst part of the run awaits.

When you hit the trail again you have a 10k left in your loop. It’s nice and shaded for a while, but when you leave the dirt path it turns into blacktop and the bikeway takes you out a mile before you turn around to come back. It’s desolate and I really started hallucinating on this section. It’s a two mile trek that seems like it will never end and the one section I wanted to walk most.

After that, you have about 3.5 miles before paydirt (or the painful turn around). Slowly but surely spectators come back into your life and you will need their support. The support, by the way, is excellent. Aid stations are loaded like a buffet and on my second loop I hit the chicken broth hard on that turnaround.

You wind back past the stadium (and go down the little flight of stairs, which is painful in a different way) then back through the neighborhoods before hitting your last little climb up State Street. The party is rockin’ now and the hill is not an issue. At the top you stare at the massive capitol, turn left for a block, right for another, then right for a half block before turning left to finish.

The finishing part is great, but if this is the end of your first loop be prepared for a major mind f&ck. They lead you well into the Finisher’s Chute before sending you back out to battle. All you can really do is laugh.

Ironman Wisconsin was my only marathon to date, and I am pretty sure it will always be one of my favorite courses. It’s challenging but not unfair. It’s urban with a great taste of wilderness. And you get to see some of the finer sections of one of the greatest cities there is, Madison, Wisconsin.

December 23, 2013

Never Give Up

It’s obvious to say my proudest moment of the year was running through the finisher’s arch at Ironman Wisconsin. But, in reality, it was a moment within the race that trumps the medal by a long shot.

I wrote about it in my IMWI Race Report, but that heart wrenching moment deserves another visit because I think it was the most important lesson of the entire year. THAT moment was everything to me around Mile 25 of the Ironman marathon, it was staring me in the eyes.

I trained for that moment a hundred times. Night after night I fought through the pain along the dark paths of the Shelby Bottoms Greenway or torturous neighbor hood hills in the rain. Every time I’d reach one or ten sticking points that begged me to stop, but I wouldn’t give in.

Eleven hours into Ironman Wisconsin, I had exactly 10k left on my run. All I had to do was keep the pace just under 10 minute miles and I would finish sub-12 — which would be a major feat for a first time Ironman. The catch was, my watch didn’t tell me pace.

I chose to go by feel, and up until Mile 20 it worked perfectly. At that point I was 6 miles further than I had ever run in my life and fighting thoughts of “the wall.” So many people told me, “You always hit the wall.” “Beware of the wall.”

Everything hurt. My legs, ankles, knees, and head. I could taste the finish line, but a 10k was a major accomplishment only a year earlier, and I was getting delirious.

The amount of focus you need in an Ironman is almost laughable. The parties, the park benches, the curbs, the shore along the lake . . . they all invite you to relax. I can honestly say I was tempted to stop after every single step in that marathon.

But after my buddy, Wasky looked at me and said, “All you got is a 10k brotha, bring it home,” I knew stopping wasn’t an option. I was on my pace. A sub-12 Ironman was in my grasp and there was no way I was going to let go.

I was timing my pace by hitting restart on my watch at each mile marker. When I hit mile 24 I had exactly 20 minutes left to finish under 12 hours. I hit restart and ate everything I could grab at the aid station. I was lumbering and in more pain than I had ever felt during exercise. I had long forgotten I was racing an Ironman, now I was simply running, or jogging, or limping depending how you viewed it.

The course was a blur. I knew I was in Madison, but had only vague recollection of the course even though it was my second loop. I stared at my feet, into the trees, and tried not to veer off the road. Nothing was in focus and I even forgot to check my watch for a while. When I looked down, the counter read 10:48! What?!? Had I slowed that much? Anything was possible and I still hadn’t seen mile marker 25. I picked up the pace and scoured the landscape for the sign. It had to be close. It HAD to be.

All day I was calm and cool, now I was in a panic. Time kept ticking and there was no mile marker in sight. My panic turned into extreme disappointment. I had come this far and was this close. Now, my sub-12 dream was gone.

Even if I did see the marker now, I would have to run a sub-8 mile-point-2 to hit my goal, and I just knew my body didn’t have it. That’s when . . . I stopped.

I put my head down and started walking all while justifying “just over 12” was good enough. I was talking to myself. “You gave it everything you had, Mike, keep your head up.” “What an accomplishment either way.” “Your friends and family will be proud of you either way.” That was likely true, but it was that last line that snapped me out of it.

Everyone was waiting at the finish line and I’m pretty damn sure they were off the charts excited to see me finish under 12 minutes. That “walking sequence” might have lasted 8 or 10 steps, and that’s when it dawned on me that I may have missed the 25 mile marker.

I looked at my watch and it told me I had 8 minutes. That’s when I started saying it out loud, “I missed the marker . . . did I miss it? I think I missed it.”

Out of nowhere, I was a man possessed. I was running for the people waiting and all of a sudden it hurt less to run faster. I wish I had worn a Garmin because I’m sure that final stretch was my fastest of the day. The State Street crowds screamed as we ran by and I was passing everyone. I MUST have missed that marker.

I got to the Capitol and turned it up a notch. Let me tell you, there is nothing quite as stressful as watching your watch tick away when you don’t know how far you have left. It was now under 3 and barring a complete collapse I knew I had it. When I finally got to the finisher’s chute, I had 1:30 in the bank. I hit that carpet and the pain left my body as I scanned the crowd for family and friends. They were about halfway down on the left and I heard them screaming my name. I was floating now. I was a scared child moments earlier and now I was home.

I crossed the line in 11:58:58 and nearly started crying because I knew I’d almost given up. One tiny moment in life that nearly changed everything and I based my decision on nothing other than faith.

October 9, 2013

The Emotions Leading Up to an Ironman

@miketarrolly

Following is a burst of writing 10 days before Ironman Wisconsin, that I never published. I wonder if any of you can identify with these emotions? The kids in Kona?

How Do I Really Feel 10 Days Before IMWI? (Originally written August 29, 2013)

I’m pissed. That’s how I feel. I’m anxious, paranoid, impatient, angry, unsettled.

I just want to be out of this office right now.

I want to be swimming, biking, or running. I want to be cleaning my bike, packing my clothes, driving north.

I want people to stop being stupid. I want to punch something, or someone.

It’s 10 Days out and the world feels like it will explode.

As I type, I feel a good angst. Like I am ready to crush it. Not scared. I want to roll it out and let it ride. I feel strong and ready to burst.

October 8, 2013

Seduced By Goosepond

By @miketarrolly

Ahh, Goosepond. She had me at hello.

The peaceful waters of Lake Guntersville, the serene terrain of Sequatchie Valley, and the friendly folk of Scottsboro, Alabama. A recipe for love.

This wasn’t my plan. In fact, two weeks ago I broke it off with the Rev3 Olympic in Anderson, SC because I’ve been a little fatigued since Ironman Wisconsin. Then, last week, I reluctantly agreed to do the bike portion of the Goosepond relay. Then yesterday’s events turned that plan upside down.

Robbie was gonna do the swim leg of the relay, but as “luck” would have it, he’s now signed up for a Ten Mile Swim the day before our Half. I’m assuming he will be a bit tired on Sunday and since I am not one to take challenges lying down, I decided I would relieve him of the 1.2 mile swim and do Goosepond by myself.

All of this takes me back to the beginning of my running. I always put something on the radar to keep me engaged and this has ignited a much needed fire.

The Wisconsin glow lasted about two weeks before I started half-assing a workout here and there. It wasn’t the same. I couldn’t focus without a defined target. Now I have one, but feel severely under-trained.

It would be logical to treat this race like a fun adventure, but that’s not really in my DNA. I ran 10 miles on Sunday and I’m still sore, so I’m thinking rest may be the best preparation for my second 1/2 triathlon.

It’s another one-day-stand, and as we all know anything is possible. But can I beat my Muncie 70.3 time of 5:16? My only option is to get lost in first date magic and let Goosepond’s powers of seduction work their magic.

October 8, 2013

My Private Predictions for Ironman Wisconsin #IMWI

This is a blog I wrote about a month away from Ironman Wisconsin, but never posted because I thought it might jinx me. I also thought it was outlandish, especially because I had covert designs on being a long-shot for a slot at Kona (10:37 was the magic number in my age group). As it turned out, Kona was silly talk, but considering I finished in 11:58, I don’t feel as bad about actually “saying” this stuff and never beat myself up for aiming high. Following are my unedited predictions and actual times at Wisconsin.

SWIM PREDICTION FOR IMWI

I swam Muncie 70.3 in 37 minutes and felt like I took awful lines. Hopefully it won’t be so confusing at Wisconsin (it was and more). I think the Muncie set-up was nice and anxiety free because everyone was so spread out, but Wisconsin should offer more swimmer-ahead-of-me sighting and less chance that I will get way off course. I also hope to get caught up in the man-made-current.

37 minutes at Muncie and I felt good at the end. I believe I can be a little under double that, especially since I have swam a lot more since then and feel like my swimming is much stronger now.

Swim Prediction: 1:10 (Actual IMWI swim time 1:20)

BIKE PREDICTION FOR IMW

I know the bike will be tough, but I feel like I am going to rise to the occasion. I’ve done 110 on Natchez trace in the rain in under 6 hours. I really feel like 95 miles in isolation on the Trace will be about the equivalent of Wisconsin. Add the crowd, etc and I’m thinking I can have a pretty good bike split. My ass is more prepared and as long as the conditions are right, I’ll be ready to attack with wisdom and not go over my limits.

Bike Prediction: 5:45 (Actual IMWI bike time 6:03)

RUN PREDICTION FOR IMWI

At Muncie 70.3 I really did feel pretty strong on the run. First and second half paces of the run were 8:12 and 8:35, but thought I could negative split if it weren’t for the burning feet. If my feet hold up, I really think I can fight through the rest of the pain and run a decent marathon. I could be completely fucked up on this thought, but I think on a perfect day I can hold a 9 minute pace. I think 10 is probably more reasonable, but also know that anything can happen out there. I’m gonna side in the middle of that and go with a 9:30 pace.

Run: 4:09 damn… we’ll see… I’d sure like to get that below 4. (Actual IMWI run time 4:23)

So… with transitions that brings me in around 11:15 or so, which would be phenomenal, but not Kona…. I would need to cut about 30 minutes off to be in that discussion and it will obviously have to happen on the run. When I think back to Muncie I know I could have done an 1:46. Times 2 that is 3:32 for the marathon. Yikes… I would need a 3:40 to be in the Kona discussion. This seems unreasonable, but like I said, I think my legs will hold up, it’s just the other things. Or, I could be totally crazy. I’m way over thinking this.

The End

Predicted time 11:15 (Actual IMWI Time 11:58:58)

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POST RACE THOUGHTS

I was a little ahead of myself with these predictions, but shit happens. In all honesty, a 45 minute miss isn’t as far off as I think it would have been had I hit my swim time. Right or wrong, that 1:20 swim put me in “play it safe mode” because, as the race progressed, a 12-hour goal seemed most “reasonable.” A 1:10 swim raises the stakes and likely would have made me take a few more chances on the bike to get that number closer to 5:45. That’s a reasonable 28 minutes right there and may have had me focused on sub 11:30 versus sub 12. The run was a wild card, but in retrospect I believe I could have knocked off another 10 minutes if I had the 11:30 target in front of me.

It’s easy to sit here and say these things, but talking it through has been a major key in my progress. I like to learn and keep pushing for higher levels. In retrospect, I think I ran a smart race. I could have pushed bigger gears on the bike and cut some time, but doing my first Ironman in sub-12 is a huge accomplishment. I am very happy with that time, but far from satisfied.

October 1, 2013

Ironman Wisconsin Swim Start 2013 – Video #IMWI

This was the moment I thought about a thousand times, the Ironman Wisconsin Swim Start. The thought of being in that water with nearly 3,000 swimmers just blew my mind and it was everything I expected. Here’s a short trailer for the documentary I hope to finish sometime before I die. Special thanks to Roger Jokela and my brother, Chris Tarrolly for shooting this video and saving the film.

More Crushing Iron video can be found here.

September 26, 2013

Catching Up After an Ironman #IMWI

In the fury that was the week of and week after Ironman Wisconsin, many amazing things happened, but sort of fell through the cracks. One was my selection as East Nasty of the Week, which is a high honor doled out by my running club. I was very grateful, but had a difficult time enjoying it because of the race and recovery period. I just sat down to read the article again and am especially humbled by what the guys I trained with for IMWI wrote about me for the article.

Daniel Hudgins, “Mike has been a key supporter for Ironman as the “Fab Five” has been training. He is so much more than your average athlete, though. He is tenacious, and I think we’ll see him continue to improve throughout the years. When we first met last year, I remember him coming to a triathlon I was also doing to watch Jim. He was so interested and the best way I can describe his demeanor was quietly excited. As time went on, and he decided to do Ironman Wisconsin, we became closer and closer as friends. Mike and I battled for who would show up last for our morning workouts in January, and he often won. We joked that he’ll write a book “How To Sleep Your Way To an Ironman”, and it will probably be a New York Times Bestseller. After seeing his consistency, his success in racing, and his talented writing on his blog, it’s much less of a joke now. He’s one of the first people I called when I had a bad ride or something was bothering me. I’d also call him after a great workout or a successful race. I knew he would listen and want to talk about it in detail – and at the same time, he’d provide some comedy in the reality of all the craziness we were putting ourselves through. I’m so proud of him, and I know after this Ironman, he will continue to excel at whatever he pursues.”

Jim Schwan, “Tarrolly is truly an inspiration. Watching the transformation he has made from his first day at the couch to 5k program to his completion of an Ironman has been astounding. From the first day I met Tarrolly I knew he was someone I wanted to associate with. I mean, he was wearing cool shoes and seemed like he really had it going on. This was years before either of us attempted any kind of endurance sports. Little did I know we would one day end up training together for an Ironman. He is one of the most creative people I know. He has won film-making awards and authored several fantastic blogs. His chronicling of his training via Crushingiron.com, as well as the upcoming documentary, will cement his legend. If you don’t know, act like you know.”

Kevin Gammon, “I’ve had the pleasure of training with Mike for the past nine months. During those nine months, I’ve watched him change his entire life style and dedicate himself fully to reaching a goal. It has been one of the most profound changes I have seen in the three years I have participated in running and triathlons. He has become a strong athlete and person. I constantly seek out his advice because I have nothing but respect for him and what he has accomplished. I anticipate we will see some great things from Mike, both athletically and in other areas. I will also say I look forward to kicking him during the open water swim in Wisconsin.”

Mark Scrivner, “Mike? What can I say about Mike? Dude is gonna crush it. He’s a beast. Started running last year and now you can’t contain him. He’s extremely focused and sleeps more than anyone I know. I can tell you this much, the only thing stopping him will be himself. Dude shoots video, plays drums, eats PowerBars and blogs. It’s been a pleasure training with him, when he actually shows up.”

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I spent a TON of time with these guys over the last year and every minute was inspirational. Each of them connected with me in different ways and it was truly a blessing to meet them and train together for a goal I thought was impossible.

I’ve said it many times before, but Jim is the reason I am in triathlon . . . and for that matter, not a whale laying around on the couch. He patiently led by example until I figured out that I should probably follow in his footsteps. Jim made many sacrifices to make sure I stayed engaged with endurance sports, and I will forever be indebted to his efforts. Maybe one day I too will be getting up at 3:45 every morning.

Kevin’s gutsy performance at IM Louisville 2012 was the final straw that lured me into Ironman. Watching my first IM was an emotional and motivating experience. I barely knew Kevin at the time, but I was so moved by his effort that day, I knew I would sign up to race sooner than later. We didn’t bike or run together often, but our lake battles were undeniably the catalyst to me becoming a confident swimmer and rejuvenating my competitive nature.

Daniel is one of the most positive and compassionate people I know. He overcame a lot to get where he is today. His passion for triathlon shined bright all year and his results proved it. He embraced every experience like it was his last and smiled before, during, and after each competition or workout. Ironman was a first for both of us and we loved to speculate about how it would feel to compete, then finish. We dove into every detail along the way and I think it made us both better racers and people.

Mark showed more guts than just about anyone I’ve ever known as a competitor. It seemed like he was injured the entire training season, but he kept pushing on. And I’m not talking about hang nails. He had a double hernia and a torn bicep, but didn’t let either get in his way. Despite these setbacks, having a family, and owning a business that was exploding, he kept his eye on the prize and peaked with a great performance at Wisconsin. He showed a lot of confidence in me and that became a big source of motivation.

It was, is, and always will be the Fab 5 I think of first. We committed to a journey and each other. We followed through with a major challenge and came away with far more than medals. We are great friends who shared deep and meaningful experiences that no one can ever take away.

September 21, 2013

A Coach's Ironman "Miracle"

This is the latest submission from my coach, Robbie Bruce. I love it when he gets inspired and sits down at his phone to bust out a blog. This one is especially close to my heart because I just experienced everything he’s written about and I’m pretty sure some of this piece was influenced by my family on September 8th in Madison. The journey, the struggle, and how it impacts everyone who trains for Ironman.

The Miracle of Ironman Coaching
By Robbie Bruce

I sat down on the couch this evening to watch one of my favorite movies, “Miracle.” If you haven’t see it, you should.

It’s the story of the US hockey team’s remarkable and shocking journey to a gold medal in the 1980 Olympics. It became one of my favorite sports movies originally just because of the unique story, it involved sports, and I am just a giant patriot at heart, so I loved every second of it. Each time I watch the movie, I absorb more and more of the coaching aspect and how it relates to the athletes I coach who compete and train for Ironman.

Training for an Ironman is not like competing in the Olympics from an “athletic” standpoint, but both training processes have a lot in common from the approach of the athlete and coach. Both make a choice, a sacrifice to train, and go all-in for something far in the future, something unknown . . . all of it for one day.

Their friends and family are supportive but still wonder “why?” Why are you giving up so much of your life for such a long time, all for just for one day. One race? Then what?

In the world of instant gratification this is the opposite. It is counter intuitive in every way possible. It is giving up everything for the unknown. It is giving up everything today for something so far away that may actually never present itself.

From a coaching standpoint you take on athletes with all different backgrounds, personalities, goals, and experiences. It is your job to get them to buy in to the process. Every day will make “your day” and your day is Ironman.

Still, every time someone comes to me saying they want to do an “Ironman,” I know they have no idea what they are getting in to. They are changing their life, not just signing up for a race. They don’t know it at the time, but they aren’t just signing up alone, they are about to embark on a journey that takes friends and family with them. It is what makes coaching Ironman athletes so much different.

You know you are not only holding someone else’s dreams in your hands but also the hopes and nerves of parents, spouses, friends, co-workers and sometimes even strangers. They believe in the one who is racing and wonder “who is this person coaching them?” They have to believe in you without even usually setting eyes on you. They look to their athlete and if they believe in their coach the others will too. Belief by proxy.Ironman competitors become magnets. You follow their training. You follow their previous races. People follow them. The “Crushing Iron” following is a great example of that. You actually give others something to believe in. To hope for and to find joy in just from following or watching and even just refreshing an app. They mentally race it with you. They emotionally endure it with you.

I have had the honor to spectate and coach 2 Ironman races in the last 2 months. I imagine most people think the most gratifying part of my job is watching the athletes cross the finish line with their goal time. “MAN THEY CRUSHED IT,” as some people like to say. I am still not sure what you “crush” or “kill” but whatever. Yea, I used to think the same way from a time stand point. They meet their goal and it’s a win. Now, I watch them finish, glance at the clock with momentary elation, then watch them greet their support crew for the first time. Their families. Their friends. The expression on their faces, the tears of joy, the hugs, the smiles of relief….. Man. That is what it is all about.You realize you weren’t just coaching a person. You were coaching a crowd of believers all standing behind one soul. A person who goes off in the distance alone at 7 am and returns after most of the day is done. You share in a their nerves during the race, absorb them and when its over…. You let it out. The athletes stories, their wants, why they signed up. You know exactly what they are thinking when they cross the line. It is a community that brings you to tears.

Being responsible for having such a small part in an athletes journey to Ironman is an honor. Although stressful at times, it is the most rewarding job I could ever imagine. Watching the first hug they give as they finish…. It is the tightest and most relieved of squeezes….”I knew you could do it.” – ” I am so proud of you.”- “That was amazing.”- I cant believe you did so well.”- “I love you.”- and the “You did it’s.”

You cant imagine it or recreate it any where else or in any other sport. It is the sight of so many different people coming together as one. There might be one person walking away with a medal and the title of being and “Ironman” but everyone around feels like one. Proud. Smiling. Energetic and so happy. You may have “coached” 3-5 to “be one” but 25-30 walk away feeling like they too are an Ironman.

That’s the journey. That is what makes it so amazing. If the movie Miracle taught me anything it is that you can do anything once and take everyone else with you on the journey. Whether it is a gold medal or an Ironman, maybe it is time for you to take a trip………….

September 20, 2013

What Now? #IMWI

Well, I have to admit, the glow has faded on Ironman Wisconsin and I can see how difficult it is to keep the train moving in the right direction. For me, I think the next race is Rev3 in Anderson, SC. They put on great races and it would be a good way to cap the year. Not to mention, I think I have a good shot at qualifying for Age Group Nationals in Knoxville next May.

While I am a little sluggish after finishing a year-long-goal, I am also optimistic about the future. The base is laid for a whole new level of racing in 2014. Sub-12 Ironman, now what? Sub-11 is where I’m leaning and, yes, I have decided to go after it at Louisville. I was “this” close to pulling the trigger on Chattanooga, but didn’t want to sign up for my second before I did my first at Wisconsin. And frankly, I was also “this” close to signing up for Wisconsin again. I just have a hard time imagining any IM is more perfect for me. Great fan support, awesome course, and right up the road from my family. I just loved every single minute of that experience, including moments like this with my brother. NOLA 1/2 is in the mix, along with Muncie 70.3, and possibly Gulf Coast 1/2, which I hear great things about. I’m also contemplating Rev3 in Wisconsin Dells in lieu of IMWI. Or maybe Racine. So many choices.

I guess I’m a little melancholy today, so I’d just like to say thanks for following this blog. Your support and encouragement has been a driving force.