Why I did an Ironman

Originally published: May 2, 2018

April has always been my favorite month of the year. I think it goes back to being a kid and knowing that it was your birthday month, celebrating at school with brownies mom made for the entire class, having a sleepover with all of your best friends, or the excitement of getting letters (small donations to the life fund) from family members. My birthday came as it always has in April and I got the question “How’s it feel?”. Well, I hadn't really thought about the 18th that much to be honest. My eyes have been set on a different date in April. April 28th. The day I would do something I not more than 7 months ago I saw as impossible. The day I would compete in a full distance Ironman. All eyes were set on that that the birthday kind of caught me by surprise.

Rewind to August 5th, 2017. I had just put myself through, at the time, the hardest thing I had done up until that point of my life. Ironman 70.3 Boulder. I crossed the finish line and heard the words that I did not know at the time would drive me to make a much bigger commitment. I cross, the volunteer puts the medal around my neck for nothing special other than finishing and says “Kevin, today, you are a half Ironman.” I walk through the finish line corral and see two of my friends and dad and say “I am never doing this s%$t again.” They laugh, we hug, I go eat pizza. Prior to the race, I had told myself following completion I wouldn't think of what would be next until at least 2 weeks after. I was going to give myself time to rest, recoup and evaluate what I wanted to do. The words kept replaying in my head on the drive home. “Half Ironman” “Today you are a HALF Ironman.” A HALF IRONMAN?! Are you kidding? All of that work and you call me a HALF Ironman? Well, I guess that's what I am huh? But I was not going to stay that way for a while. No way. Two days after that race, I was signed up for Ironman Texas, April 28th, 2018. The first full-distance Ironman event in Northern America of 2018. Easy decision. Back to real time we go, and I sit here having done some of the hardest training in my life over the last 5 months. August to December in 2017 was all maintenance. Keeping the body where it was at when racing for the half. Trying to stay in shape was easier than I thought but started getting old, really quick. I saw a Sports Psychologist to try and help out with the sheer dread of working out and he certainly helped get my brain back on track. I started an Ironman specific training plan in the middle of December with all eyes set on April 28th. The real deal. No more half b.s. TIME TO DIVE IN.

Now, I say that I am competing in this race, but this word certainly means something different to me than it probably does to you at first glance. People have asked what place I think I will get, etc. The better word honestly might be participating however, I am competing. It’s a race against myself. A race against all the doubts and fears I once had and still have about the race. A competition against my own brain to see how mentally tough I really am. I wrote about this a little bit in my blog about training for the 70.3, but the physical training has not been the hardest part of this commitment. Sure, it has sucked at times. No doubt. Sitting on a bike, rested on an indoor trainer, for the longest ride of training (100 miles) is not fun. Running 14 miles on a treadmill is not fun. Thanks to the wonderful Colorado weather, working 8 – 5 and the way the training plan is laid out, I have done one outdoor ride in the last 5 months of training. ONE. The lack of brain stimulation and real feeling of a bike that this brings is real. There are certainly pros and cons to riding inside. Mostly cons, but when else would I get to binge watch TV? I had to make the most of this time as I knew how important it was to not get burned out like before. Had I had the same mindset, I would have tried to be all tough guy and do those long rides without the distraction of TV or music or anything. But I had learned, if this was something I was serious about, I could not let myself get in the way of the dream. And I would have to grind out some long days in the confines of my basement.

Although 100 miles on an indoor trainer is tough, although running 18.2 miles outside wearing multiple layers because it is too cold and is nothing like race day, although swimming 88 laps in your average sized pool staring at a black line is not the most mentally stimulating thing and riding a bike for a couple hours seated next to a pool to simulate humidity sucks, I do it. Why? Because of what I have grown in because of it. I thought my long workouts for the 70.3 were long. LOL. Little did I know that prepping your body for 140.6 miles of swimming, biking, and running required long workouts not just on weekends, but almost every day. Weekends just happened to be, how do I say it, extra-long. My body has certainly taken a toll. What can I say? It is really hard to eat enough calories and not lose weight while still eating healthy. My mind has taken a toll. Ever been doing a workout for so long that people come and go well after you have started? And then they return for their second workout of the day and leave before you have finished that first workout? This drove me NUTS! I wanted to be done. I wanted to go eat something more than a fig bar and mandarin orange slices. I wanted to go out on Friday nights with the interns at the USOC, but I couldn’t. The dream had taken over and there wasn’t anything that would stop me. The routine of training was at the forefront of my priority list because I know that race day is not the hardest part of this whole process. Yes, it is the culmination of everything. The final dance. But the hardest part has been the training. 14 (or 16 if I make friends with an old man during the race) hours on one day, now, seems so little compared to the countless hours spent beforehand to be successful. Doing the full distances together for the first time will be hard, absolutely. I’m going to wind up more exhausted than ever before. I will find myself in dark, dark parts of the race where all I want to do is quit, but I won’t. I will NOT give up. I will NOT make training the most pointless thing I have ever done. I will NOT let my fears and doubts overcome me. I have, by the grace of God, worked way too hard to let something so small get in the way.

This has started to shape my life. The idea of being prepared for this day has changed how I want to live. God has put me in a situation to be able to do all of these things. The timing of everything has worked out perfectly. There is not a better time for me to do this other than now.

The focus HAD TO BE THERE for this to work.

Six out of seven days were spent training. The other was pure rest and recoup for the next six. 9 workouts a week. The harder workouts kept coming, and somehow, I kept finishing them. Being in the best shape of your life is a weird place to be. There wasn’t a day that I was like, yup, this is it. But now, those workouts I looked at 5 months ago and said “Are you kidding me?” have become routine and that is one of the coolest things. Being able to do the distances I have done on a regular basis and not be dead after is so stinking awesome. It is one of those things that you don’t just wind up with it in your lap. There is a grind behind it. Blood, sweat, and tears. Cheesy, but true. A lot of people will see the end product but won’t have seen the work that was put in beforehand. My parents have probably seen most of the work. Followed by some close friends that I complained to a lot. No one knows like I do, and that was a hard realization to have. Especially when your only training partner is the ghost friend Daryl you made up to talk to. Early on in the training I realized this and thought to myself about how easy it would be to skip out on a workout. No one would know if I only did 2000 meters instead of 2400. No one would know if I only biked 4 hours instead of 5. No one would know if I skipped the ten-minute run after that 5-hour ride. But I would. I have gotten to a place that not finishing a workout in its full, eats me up. Almost to the point where I had to hold myself back from beating up the swim instructor at the YMCA for kicking me out of the pool for little kid swim practice (IM KIDDING RELAX). The marathon portion of the race is as you know, 26.2 miles. Every single one of my runs that was a specific mileage had .2 tacked on top of it just for the mental strain that the last .2 will be in the race. It was the little things like not skipping 400 meters in the pool and adding .2 to every run that has put me in a place right now feeling confident in my success come race day. The work HAD to be put in before for the race to feel confident going into it. I certainly have nerves still, no doubt. But those have been minimized to a degree by the sacrifices given before.

I see so many parallels to life in this. The idea that people see the end product and hardly ever the work put in. To truly accomplish things, you HAVE to make sacrifices. It is OKAY to work on yourself. To rid yourself of the desire to be praised and establish a foundation of self-worth.

I could go on and on, but the point is, challenging yourself in life changes your perspective on so many things, not just the task at hand. Pushing yourself to your limits is one of the best and scariest ways to see your flaws and truly work to make yourself better. I encourage you to challenge yourself in some capacity this year. If that’s getting off the couch and running a mile, do it. If that’s running a 5k, half-marathon or marathon, do it. If that’s trying your first triathlon, confronting a broken relationship, saying sorry, DO IT. The regret of not trying is far greater than the effort required to actually do it. Every time.

The mustache is out, the taper is winding down, and we are on the way to The Woodlands, TX. We just left weather in Colorado that brought snow, forcing me to do my last decent run inside to try and stay somewhat close to race conditions. Our God has a good sense of humor, doesn’t he? We leave sub 20-degree weather for the heat a humidity that is Houston, TX. Although I am certainly not prepared for the humidity, having the elevation drop will certainly help out. So, if you have read this far, know that the race is already over. Hopefully I have finished! More thoughts post-race below.

WOW. I can’t believe it. There are days after April 28th, 2018? Part of me expected to ascend into Heaven after crossing the finish line and be greeted by God with a cold beer in hand but enjoying some pizza and a milkshake here on Earth are a very close second.

Let’s start with when we arrived because I haven’t written since then. We got there, went straight to the event venue and got all checked in. Figured out the last little logistics of what goes where, where “over there” is, and how long it would to take to walk from here to there. I went on a short little run to get the legs back under me from them being all sorts of stiff from driving 15 hours. Friday came and suddenly we are less than 24 hours till race start. The day is already planned with what to do. I got to do a short swim to try and get used to the water followed by a short spin on the bike to navigate the run course and just let the legs loosen up a little. We went and met up with my friend Chris Grall who graciously traveled to Houston just to watch and support me. We watched “Avengers: Infinity War” and headed back to the hotel to be met by a huge surprise. My cousin Thomas walked up to us as we were walking in and I had no idea he was going to be there. He came for the same reasons, to watch and support. My dad also traveled down with me and I cannot thank these three guys enough for being there. This day was the most special day in my life so far and to have those guys there to share the experience with was a blessing. This also goes to each and every one of you who tracked me, sent me good luck texts, asked how it went or poked me on Facebook. You legitimately have no idea what all of those things mean to me. I apologize for not responding the day before the race as I had my phone turned off to start getting the mind in its place. To have a group of people that cared, loved, and supported me, from the beginning of training to race day, physically at the race or watching somehow from around the world, means so much. Thank YOU. You are the flipping best and I love you more than you know.

Race day. I told my Sherpas (support crew: Dad, Chris, Thomas) that I wanted to attack the day like any other long Saturday. All I was doing that day was a long workout with 2000+ of my new friends. I wanted to be calm, relaxed and focused in the morning and as long as possible throughout the day. I wanted to soak in the day for what it was. It would have been easy to get caught up in being stressed and nervous etc. but all the work had been done to make that day possible and I was not going to let stress get in the way of success. One of the words I had them use a lot was heartbeat. This had been a comfort word for me throughout training. Making sure that I was focusing on my heartbeat. Controlling the pace at which it beat, not letting it get ahead of me or out of my control. Directing my attention to its rhythm rather than the negative thoughts looming in my head. They were setup to watch me as much as they could. They were setup to help me on the run where they could, and they did an incredible job. The sheer amount of time (at least for a slower person like me) that it takes to complete an Ironman was one of the few things that was hard for me to practice prior to race day. Sure, I had done some workouts that lasted 5 ½ hours, but once I got off the bike in the race having already been going for 7 plus hours and still having a marathon to complete starting in the middle of the day, my body could only be so ready. It was my mind that I needed to control. The negative thoughts would start creeping in. The ebbs and flows of race day are so drastic one can go from feeling on the high of adrenaline like they could go on forever to not 2 minutes later wanting to throw in the towel and stop. I knew this would happen and had several strategies to attack it when it did. But it was hard. It hurt. I was running slow and couldn’t get a good deep breath of air. I had no clue where my final time would land until I got a notification on my watch that it was about to run out of battery. I felt the same way. The watch somehow made it all the way until moments after the finish line when I stopped the workout. I forced myself throughout the day to focus on small goals to avoid thinking of the finish. When working out for the race, I would start to think about what the finish line would be like and start getting emotional. My throat would constrict a little bit (which is great when it is already hard to breathe) and the thoughts of completing a mildly hard task and the joy that comes with that would be overwhelming. I got to mile 25 and was all of a sudden was struggling to hold it together. I mustered up the last little mental strength I had and pushed on. Got to 26 and decided it was time to let it go. I am convinced there are very few moments in life like the last .2 of a race like this. Thinking back on it now, I don’t remember a whole lot of it. I know I gave some kids high fives, I know I cried, I know I screamed. I vaguely remember Mike Reilly telling me “You are an Ironman!”, but I am okay with it being a blur. All I know is I have never felt an emotion like I did in that moment. The culmination of time spent, work done, and things sacrificed all wrapping up was beautiful. The tears were of joy. The screams were of excitement. Everything blacking out was probably of lack of calories (JK I didn’t blackout). It was a dream coming to a close and soaking it in was the best part of the day.

I also know that a lot of people will start asking me “What’s next?” and “When is your next race?” but know that I have no idea. This was a check mark for me. I felt a sense of incompletion after the 70.3 and naturally this was next. That doesn’t mean I won’t ever do one again. I simply just have no plans to any time soon. I will continue to challenge myself physically and mentally, but I am not sure what that looks like yet. I need some time to relax and breathe before jumping into another challenge. In a different way, I will be challenging myself by going to grad school. Never did I think I would be one to keep going to school. I thought I would get out of school and be done but here we are. I might try and put on some weight as I have been the same little twig since high school. I don’t know, and I am excited to not know for a bit. I’ll be looking for something though. Don’t doubt that.

All of the glory goes to GOD. Without him I would not be able to call myself an Ironman. His grace, love, and joy have been the focus behind my life for a long time now and this small little event in my life is no different. He gets the glory. He gets the praise. I get to live the dream, but IT’S NOT ME. It’s all God. Every single time.

If you want to talk about the race itself and all that went on during it, please let me know. It would take me probably 20 pages to get through the whole race, so I’ll save all of you non-readers the stress. I would love to talk to you personally more about what the race was like and the things experienced through this ride.

Thanks for supporting me and reading my ramble about another big life event. Expect more (but not for a while unless a big life event pops up on me that I am not ready for and then feel the need to write a blog to recap it for people who may or may not care about it and then I will say it’s really for me to look back on the remember when I am old and can’t remember things anymore or some other excuse). I LOVE YOU!