Emotions of am Ironman Taper #IMWI

Well, we are in taper, and I am officially paranoid. 

Every move I make is accompanied by a small pause and half-eye-roll back into my head analyzing the subtle pain I just felt in my knee, ankle, back, neck, toe, and/or ring finger.  It is not a pleasant state. 

I am also a little grumpy.  Quiet.  Introspective.  I’m internalizing all of these feelings and emotions.  I’m sure many people around me will pay the price for the next 10 days, and for that, I apologize in advance. 

Despite all of the moodiness, I am very excited to race.

I want to feel the cool rush of Lake Monona with 3,000 others who’ve made tremendous sacrifices to be in that water.  I want to find that breathing zone that can only be located on long swims.   I want to spot the swim exit and start gearing up for the bike.

I want to coast down the helix with thousands of people screaming and ringing cowbells as I roll out the first mile of one hundred and twelve.  I want to soak in the sun as I cruise down roads I’ve probably driven, but can’t remember.  I want to climb those big hills with people yelling motivation in my ear.  And I want to see Madison on the horizon as I close in on the bike exit. 

I want to embrace the rush of running out of transition and onto State Street, eyes peeled for familiar faces.  I want to hit the tunnel and emerge inside an empty Camp Randall one day after 80,000 screaming fans propelled my Badgers to a lopsided win.  I want to hear the energy of the finish line, then turn the corner to complete my journey in front of my home state’s capitol. 

I want to hug and high five all of the people who have made this an emotional and spectacular ride.  The Fab 5, friends, and family.  I want to settle down, relax, and reflect on all it took to get there.  Then start planning for the next one. 

Until then, I must simply wait. 

 

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.

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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.

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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).

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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.

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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.

 

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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.

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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.

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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.

 

 

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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.

 

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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.

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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.

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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.

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 #2705fab5mural

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.

The Next Few Days Are About Louisville

As much as possible, I am trying to “let go” of Wisconsin for a few days.  The Southeast is heating up again and it’s time to reflect on a major reason I am in these shoes:  Ironman Louisville.

ironman louisville eventpgmainimg 1280x600 v2Last year at this time I agreed to drive up to Louisville with Jim to watch Racer K tackle his first Ironman.  Jim and I settled into Skyline Chili along the way, then went to the Galt House to find Kevin before regretting that I overloaded at Skyline Chili.

It was all so foreign to me at the time and I couldn’t believe how many people were milling around the host hotel talking about swim, bike, and run.  I knew something big was about to happen, but didn’t quite understand the magnitude.

This year I will be going up to support coach Robbie, Corey and Wasky (pictured in that order below).  Three guys that I’ve spent a ton of time with this summer and must be literally sitting on the edge of their seats as the clock counts down to cannon.robbiecoreywaskyI haven’t quite “been there” yet, but I’m guessing there’s not much you can do those last few days other than pack up your shit and battle anxiety.  There’s nothing left other than not losing your mind and finding a zone.  It’s one of those weird places where you don’t want to be distracted, but really need a distraction.

I’ll be in Louisville tomorrow night, then getting up early to ride the bike course in case I choose to put myself through the fires of hell in August one day in the future.  I may even run around the town a bit and down 4th Street to see if I can imagine the electricity that will be filling that finish line on Sunday night.  I’ve seen it and it is definitely something to write home about.

Then Sunday morning, I will tread lightly as three close friends stand in the swim line ready to culminate months of hard work.  And this is what I imagined when I created Crushing Iron.  Being around people who push themselves to the limits to see how far that will take them.  And while I’m not racing, this morning will be about the incredible journey we’ve taken together.6a00d83451b18a69e2015434eff28b970c-600wiIt will be about all those little things that help keep everyone on track.  About the selflessness we all shared in order to bring out the best in each other.  Hundreds of days and thousands of little inspirations that have all come down to this day.  Now, it’s time for them to show everyone else why we have so much faith in what they’re about to do.

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17 Days Out Lesson – from my Neighbor James – My lil James Jr. gonna come out that door right there and start yellin, “Mr. Mike, Mr. Mike,” and you gonna be like, “Damn, James Jr. out here screamin ‘Mr. Mike’ again.”  And you gonna be right, but he just wanna say what up.  Take a minute to say he a good kid.

Well, I Got My Bib Number #IMWI

First, I’d like to say thanks to everyone who contacted me about my neighbor’s 23 lessons for training.  We were both happy to hear athletes all over the Southeast putting the advice right into their Ironman workouts.

Secondly, I have a bib number: 2705. mikecorey

It’s not quite as permanent as being etched in stone, but having an official race number adds another layer of authenticity to my commitment.  I’m not gonna lie, I was 90% sure I clicked send payment, but haven’t really been paying attention to emails (and am typically not the most organized person) so I honestly thought there was a remote possibility my name may not show up on the race list.  I mean, I knew I signed up for Ironman Wisconsin, but it was a long ass time ago and stuff like payments or lists can really get screwed up in a year.

But, clearly they have saved a spot for me.

Two years ago I had no clue what an Ironman was other than the distant memories of my childhood when I’d watch Kona and think those people were martians.  The sport didn’t even compute with the logic centers of my brain, and frankly, I’m not sure it does now.  But who said any of this was about being logical?

For me it’s been about breaking those boundaries down.  Too much logic can paint you into a corner and turn your life into a big pile of dust.

I truly believe we are limitless and it’s never too late to pursue even the wildest dreams.

Not that it’s good, bad, or even belongs in a blog about Ironman, but Ray Krok didn’t start McDonald’s until he was like 65 years old.  I actually read his biography called, “Grinding It Out,” and aside from the fact that he was, in many ways, leading a revolution that would compromise the health of human beings; he was incredibly passionate and followed his dream with tenacity of a 20 year old.

I have no doubt that Ray Krok could have done an Ironman if he put his mind to it and have no doubt you can do something equally challenging.

Why?  Because in just over a year and a half, I have taken myself from the fetal position on a couch to the doorstep of Ironman.  It has been anything but easy.  I have loathed at least half of the workouts, but kept jumping in the water, hopping on the bike, and lacing up the running shoes.

As they say, 90% of life, is showing up, and I can assure you I’ll be showing up on September 8th.

20 Days Out Lesson – Neighbor James

Mondays are a trip, man.  It aint easy to get up and dance.  But you gotta dance!  Grab that little Speedo u got,  then get your ass in a lake and dance with the barracudas!”

23 Lessons, 23 Days Out #IMWI

If you’ve been reading the blog, you already know my neighbor, James, thinks I’m crazy for doing Ironman.  Well, today, he popped his head through the bushes and offered some pre-race advice.

I told him things were going well and we’re only 23 days out from the race.  He said, “Aww, dayum!  I know what’s up.  I went thru that exact same thing back in the day when I was gettin’ ready for my concert.”

“Concert?”

“Oh, hell yeah, I used to tap dance for the church team.”

“No shit?”

“No shit, and it was some shit!  We drove that rusty ass van all the way to Savannah for the church championships.”

“Wow.”

“Okay Mike, I see how hard u been workin.  Let me outline some shit, cuz I’ve been right where you at right now, and this is how ya next 23 days gonna work.”

Day 23 – That’s today, bro.  You all out here mowin the lawn with your bike gloves, but your mind… see, your mind ain’t even here.  You lookin’ off in the damn clouds and ya dog, Mattie, want some food.

Day 22 – Gonna be a lot like today, but u got a whole weekend to think about shit.  You gonna wish u could mow the lawn again, but that’s neither here or then, so u gotta keep your ass straight to the ground, u hear what I’m sayin?

“Uh, Yeah.”

Day 21 – You gonna be hungover as hell cause one of ya swimmin friends got a birthday party or some shit and I know u ain’t listenin’ to what I’m tellin you right now.  You gonna be all depressed and thinkin u need to get your head together, but Man, I’m tellin u, all u need to do is put on them tight shorts and ride that damn bike just like I would drag my ass outta bed and dance.  You feel me?

“Yeah”

Day 20 – Mondays are a trip, man.  It aint easy to get up and dance.  But you gotta dance!  Grab that little Speedo u got,  then get your ass in a lake and dance with the barracudas!

Day 19 – I know u hear what I’m sayin, but it ain’t sinkin in… look at u chewin on them little energy candy packs like they gonna help u mow the lawn faster.  Listen up!

Day 18 – Man, it gonna be mid-week and u gonna have some doubts, but u can’t let that shit up in you.  We all had our doubts, but keep ya eye on the prize.  Shine them damn shoes or eat you a salad to keep ya weight down.  You gotta be light, man.  You can’t dance all day if u got a big ass at night.

Day 17 – My lil James Jr. gonna come out that door right there and start yellin, “Mr. Mike, Mr. Mike,” and you gonna be like, “Damn, James Jr. out here screamin ‘Mr. Mike’ again.”  And you gonna be right, but he just wanna say what up.  Take a minute to say he a good kid.

“Done.”

Day 16 – 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.

Day 15 – When I was in my prime, I’d watch me some Sammy Davis Jr. and dance right in front of the T-V all damn night.  Rollin’ that shit back on VHS until my mom spanked my ass with my own damn belt.  Aint that some shit?  Tap dancin with my boy, Sammy, and mom breakin’ bad on my ass.  The point is, you gotta get ya passion right.  I was so deep in my dance I didn’t even feel that belt, unless she got me with that buckle, then I would eject that tape, head straight bed and ice my feet.

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.

Day 11 – Man, I started thinkin’ bout my dance routine and couldn’t remember a damn step.  You prolly gonna think u can’t run a straight line or u gonna put that tight ass wetsuit on backwards.  Mike, look at me.  Don’t take that shit personal!  You can do what you think you can’t do no matta what you think that is, or isn’t or might be.  Like Mincie used to say, “Lotta times, it is what it isn’t.”

Day 10 – This when u gotta make amends wit ya mom for whippin u wit that belt.  She done forgot that shit a long time ago, but it gotta clear ya head if u wanna show up on that stage.  She was just doin what she thought u needed and I damn well deserved a belt sometimes, and for real, I didn’t know Sammy and he didn’t know me, so I really can’t figure out why I was so hyped on that dude.  It really come down to who you know and takin’ care of them first.  Like yaself, Mike!

Day 9 – Them Mayans used to talk about single digit numbers like they was somethin real important and those cats had it just about right.  Am I lyin?  Made a damn sun dial and didn’t even know what the sun was.  And ate fresh food and ran all damn night.  See, that’s what you need, Mike.  Eat you some fresh food and quit runnin ya mouth.

Day 8 – Bro, we was rehearsin’ like it was no tomorrow.  They had them speakers on so loud I started doin some crazy ass dance nobody eva seen before.  The coach came over and said, “What the hell kinda dance you doin, James?”  I said, “I don’t know coach.”  He said, “Well, go ahead and save that for ya girlfriend, cause it don’t make no damn sense to me and it sure ain’t got nothin to do with the show.”  You with me, Mike?

“I think so.”

Day 7 – 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.

Day 6 – 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.

Day 5 – Man, I never slept so good in my life.  I mean, I surrendered myself to the concert like I was in AA turnin’ my wrongdoings over to God.  It felt good, too.  My body was light and I was movin’ like that one white dancer dude, Fred Stair and whatnot.

Day 4–  I was hearin’ them church bells in my head like u gonna start hearin’ that cannon shot.  Bam!  Over n over.  Drivin’ down the road, and cannons gonna be poppin’ all up under that runnin’ visor u got.  That gonna be a good time to stop thinkin’ bout cannons.

Day 3 – That doubt gonna be creepin’ and u just gotta remember one thing.  Ain’t no time to be doubtin’ on yaself.  Man, I kept lookin’ at my dancin’ shoes and I swear they looked too big.  Like clown shoes n shit.  I thought I WAS a clown and started tellin’ bad jokes, but people was like, “Damn, quit bein’ a clown,” and I decided that was a good idea.

Day 2– Okay.  You one day from the dance, so what you gonna do?  I thought so.  You gonna get you some damn rest.  Don’t be messin’ with that sight seein’ or shoppin’ for souvenirs.  Get you a Flipper box set and wear it out.  Get you thinkin’ bout the water and nice fish with happy little noses.

Day 1 – Mike, you my boy, but this one’s on you.

Ironman Chattanooga: Should I Stay or Should I Go?

Okay, Wasky has called me out: Do I have the balls to sign up for my second Ironman before I even do my first?

I fear the answer is yes.

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My Facebook feed and text messages have been exploding all day long with 100% commitments from nearly every triathlete I know in Nashville.  I’m quite sure a survey would show at least 20 people who are in, and that is hard to resist.

We heard rumblings of Ironman Chattanooga a few weeks ago, but now it’s officially September 28, 2014.  It’s also about an ironman bike distance away from my house.  Is there any doubt?

It is the very first Ironman in Chattanooga.  Training the course will be easy and often.  Plus, I’ve never actually spent time there and hear great things about where the city is headed.  Can I afford NOT to do it?

Plus (and this is a big one) it’s Racer K’s hometown.  He’s coming to mine for IMWI, so I feel like I need to return the favor.  And, I’ll get to see his mom again, which is always nice.  Is it fate?

All that said, I would really like to wait until after Wisconsin to make the decision, but I fear it will sell out fast.  It is a short jaunt for a huge portion of the population and I can’t imagine slots being open for more than a few days.

I also thought it would be cool to chill for a year after my first Ironman and follow my triathlon passion with a series of Olympics in cool towns where I could take a nice little vacation and not worry about training so hard.  Ironman training has changed my life, but it is a major time sucker.

For now, my mind is occupied with the first Ironman.  I can’t afford to get sidetracked thinking about number 2.  But, Chattanooga registration just happens to be near the end of my taper, so I’ll likely be bored enough to do something crazy, like sign up.

Living for the Moment #IMWI

I don’t know about you, but I think about Ironman a lot.  Like, 20 times a day since I signed up.  Well, maybe not every day, but it’s certainly omnipresent.  To make matters worse, today I am thinking about how much I think about that thought.

This year has been an absolute blast mixed with a hell burning fire.  And what a great combination.  With each day it gets harder to not look ahead and that is exactly why I am trying to be more focused on living in the moment.

Yes, hundreds of hours have been put toward one goal.  Yes, it has been difficult to get up at 5 am and go cycling or swim in a lake 2-3 times a week.  I have been run down, ragged, and missing enticing social events, but it is 100% worth the sacrifice.  Especially if I keep the race in perspective.

Make no mistake, I am going to race.  I have goals and want to crush that beast.  But I’m also ready to savor every moment leading up to September 8th.  The aches, the pains, the impatience, the satisfaction.  It is all part of a journey I don’t want to forget.

I honestly think I may get choked up (preferably not by Racer K) while I float and wait for the cannon.  Then, I will casually throw the first stroke with my right arm and navigate into a sea of chaos with thousands of other people who have sacrificed so many things to be in that water.  The training year will likely flash before my eyes and I am quite sure I will smile, and yes, even if someone is kicking me in the face.

It will likely be the toughest day of my life and I am ready to welcome the pain into my body.  The miles are in, now, it’s a battle with my mind.  And I know there will be many times during the run that I ask myself, “Why?  Why would you put yourself through this?”

I’m doing it because I have never felt more alive.  I am pushing myself to live, and the long, hard hours give me a daily jolt, whether I like it or not.1186671_494756423948502_456647400_n

I can see how Ironman gets addictive.  You reach amazing places by pushing yourself to the limit.  Each day is a different challenge, but I can’t think of many better ways to watch the sun rise than a swimming in a big body of open water or sweating in the serenity of in nature.

I’m training for the biggest challenge of my life, but I’m living for today.  Stepping back to appreciate the little things along the way.  And on race day, I will do the same, it will just be in front of a lot more people.

All-Time Most Popular Crushing Iron Posts

I feel like there may be a lot of late comers to Crushing Iron, so I wanted to share a list of the most popular posts:

Mom always dominates Ironman reading and she hit a home run here.

My Mom Figured Out Why I’m Doing Ironman

This is Kevin’s dramatic recap of Ironman Louisville

Intense Motivation from a Guest Blogger

Allison recounts her first half Ironman at Gulf Coast

Our “Plus One,” Allison, Guest Blogs Her Gulf Coast Half

My prediction for my second ½ Marathon in New Orleans

How I Will Cut 25 Minutes Off My 1/2 Marathon Time

My head to head battle with Daytime’s favorite doctor

My 5K Face Off With Dr. Oz

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Now, these are some of my favorites that aren’t necessarily at the top of the stat counter.

My neighbor and I are pretty tight, but he clearly thinks this Ironman training is nuts.

This one is for dog and cat lovers (or haters).

My response to people who are following my “little running journey.”

From the beginning of my training, Swimming with Little Old Ladies, is an eye-opener.

In an effort to secure early season sponsorship, we went straight to the top with, Beyonce’ Knowles, Meet the Fab Five

The Kid Inside is potentially the origin of my love for triathlon.

If Running Clubs Were Gangs is a spin-off of the cult classic, The Warriors.