I lined up right in the front, a little towards the center of the lake. I was able to snag a kyak and rest a little waiting for the start. It wasn't too crowded where I was, so I thought I could manage a clean get away.
BOOM!!!!!!!!!
Immediately I sprinted out and found clear water. I wasn't hit by anyone and was able to swim to the outside of the main pack. The sun was rising in the east and sighting was just about impossibe. There was a guy to my left who spotted frequently, so I just sighted off of him when I breathed in his direction, I would adjust my course accordingly and kept my head down. It became much more congested at the turn and I ran up on a few folks. The drafting was awesome, plenty of feet to choose from! I would just leap frog from swimmer to swimmer and let them each take a turn pulling me. On the way back, I was in a pack of about 5 guys and I just stayed behind the biggest one all the way to the stairs out. Drafting the swim is awesome!

Nothing, this was the best triathlon swim I have ever had in terms of speed vs. effort.

Once out of the water, I took a quick look at my watch. 1 hour on the nose. Exactly what I was hoping for. I ran down the stripper line until I found the biggest guy I could, pointed at him and he yanked me out with an assist from another volunteer. They handed me my suit and I ran the long chute up to the gear bags by the changing tent. Volunteers got my bag to my fairly quickily and I ran into the change tent. I dumped everything out and shoved in my wet suit, goggles, and cap. Dried off my feet and put on my shoes, no socks. I had to ask a volunteer to jam my 2 Cliff Bars into my race suit as the back pocket is small. Put on my race belt with number, sunglasses, and helmet. As I left the tent, I stopped to have sun screen lathered on my shoulder and back of neck, a must in Arizona. Nothing dehydrates you worse than a sun burn. Fumbled a bit with the chin starp as I ran out into transition, all the while yelling, "974! 974!" in order to get my bike brought up top me. There was a little confusion amongst the volunteers, but they brought the bike over and I ran out to the mount line.

Nothing. The volunteers were doing great, maybe they could have brought my bike over a little faster, but it was all good.

The bike. Much will be written in the coming weeks about the 2007 Ironman bike with two common themes, The Wind and The Flats, both of which I had the opportunity to enjoy. I rode out of Tempe feeling great. I was on time, on pace, HR was a little jacked and it took about 20min to get into my 148 zone. I was passing everybody the whole way out. The wind was at my back going up to the turn and wasn't really that bad....yet.
The bike turn is all of 6 miles from my house and as I approached the turnaround, I had my own personal cheering section. Mom and Jamie and the dogs were there as well as my friend Eric, his wife, and another couple who Jamie convinced to yell for me as well. Jamie had a huge sign held abover her head that said 'Kona Bound" and mom had one that said "Go Bryan!" It was awesome. I made the turn and started back feeling great, drinking lots. I reached back and pulled out my first bar and ate it on the downhill. Today was going great...until the corner of the BeeLine and McDowell.
You know that sound, the sound every cyclist hates to hear but imagine hearing it at the race you have spent 10 months preparing for. The sound of your tire explosively releasing it's life air into the atmosphere. I have flatted probably 4 -5 times on the BeeLine during training. Once, I flatted twice within 30 feet of eachother....IN THE EXACT SAME SPOT I BROUGHT MY BIKE TO A STOP THIS DAY.

Denial is very powerful. That didn't just happen, I thought. I reached forward hoping it was the front. It wasn't. I dismounted and felt the last air leave my Tufo tire on my rear Zipp Disc. I saw the offending 1/4 cut made my a random piece of road debris. I saw my dream slipping away as rider after rider went by. All the emotional, time, financial investment made into this quest had just seeped out into the Arizona morning. I thought of my wife and mom, so proud of me less than 20min before having to hear that my day was ruined by the vagaries of racing and the bitter dissapointment I would feel.
I pulled my tool kit off my HyrdoTail and dumped out the contents. My salvation was there in my hands, I just neede to execute. I pried the tubular off the disc quickly, and mounted the new tire on the rim. I grabbed a CO2 cartridge....wait, where was my MicroInflate? Not in the bag. Oh my God, I can't fill this up. I looked over at the aid station and was about to take the first step in defeat towrds it when I looked back down on the ground. Oh, there it is, I didn't foget it. I filled her up, got back on...........AND HAMMERED!!!!!!!!!
I mean, we're not talking going a wee bit above you prescribed IM HR, we are talking 10-12 BPM over until I had hunted down and passed every sole who passed by me in the 5 min or so I was delayed. It took about quarter of a lap for me to settle back down with the sobering realization that I had another 80 some odd miles to go and a marathon to run. I needed to chill out.

It was at this point that the wind really started to blow and I think that helped me a lot. I knew a lot of Ag'ers in front of me would be having a hard time and I decided to let the wind be there problem, not mine. I continued to move up throught the pack, although it was harder to tell as I was now lapping other people. I reached back for my other Cliff Bar, which at this point was the consistancy of oatmeal and basically licked it off my hand. Towrads the halfway point, another 35-39 AG'er named Marc rode up to me. He was a big guy, clearly pushing the pace, but he never could drop me, so we eneded up chatting and riding near eachother until the end of the bike. I have to say, it made the ride in the wind much easier to have someone to commiserate with. I think I averaged 2 bottles of gatorade or water per lap.

Not flat ;).

I beat my new friend Marc to the dismount line, where my bike was whisked away by volunteers. I ran around and got my run bag and back into the change tent. Threw on a piar of socks, my visor, another gel flask and packed my helmet. Since it was pretty empty in the tent, I had my own personal sun screen applier hook me up as I put on my shoes.

Nothing.

I left the tent and immediatley saw mom and some of my friends yelling for me. That was great. I started out, felt good, kept my HR at 148 and hit every aid station. If they were selling, I was buying. I had gatorade, water, cola, cold sponges, the works! That guy Marc started the run right behind me, but faded quickly as I knew he would. Just as I was getting into a grove over the first couple of miles, this guy goes by me and he's in my AG. He wasn't taller than me, but he was very built. I thought how could a muscular guy like that hold that pace? He couldn't, but it took almost 2 laps to pass him. I was also passed by a guy in my AG from Peru who would eventually take 2nd in the AG. He looked quick and I had no delusions of catching him. The wind running west was awful and I tried to leap frog behind larger runners to catch a break heading into it.

As I completed the first lap, I felt the beginning pangs of cramping in my hamstrings and calves. Knowing that could stop me dead in my tacks, I immediatley went on a gel/Gatorade assault. If it had sodium, I wanted it. I would spend the next 2 laps constantly thinking my legs would sieze at any moment. I would adjust my stride to make them happier, whatever it took to keep up the pace, which was starting to slow. I ran the first loop at a 7:32 pace, the second at 8:01, and the third at 8:35. I was paying for flirting with the Dark Side of the Force on the bike.

It's funny, usually I can distract myself when the pain of fatigue really sets in and find that happy spot. Not so much in Ironman. On the last lap, it basically came down to, 'I will never have to run up this hill again' or 'I will never have to pass this cactus again'. I also started playing the numbers game witht he time and mileage. I had an hour until 10 hours flat to run 6.2 miles. OK, I could do that. I kept breaking it down at every mile marker after 20 in that way to keep my concentrating. It was enough to keep me going. I did manage to pass at least one additonal guy in my AG at the start of lap 2, and as I was at the half way point of the last lap near transition, my coach yelled out I had 30min. to go to make 9:45 and all of 3 miles left. I knew as soon as I crossed the bridge at Priest, I would have a tailwind all the way to Mill Ave.

As I came to the point where you turn up and under the 202 bridge, it hit me. I was running by the exact spot where 11 months ago, I fell over trying to clip into my shoes at my first triathlon. I was back where I started about to finish Ironaman and earn a spot to the World Championships. As I ran across the Mill Ave bridge, I could hear Mike yelling "You are an Ironman!" and it pulled me forward. As I came down the bridge, other athlete were turning right ot start another lap and I got to go staight, the sign said 'To The Finish'. I tunred right and there it was. The bleachers filled with poeple yelling, the timing mat on the ground below the finishing arch, the clock, and Mike was announcing my name. I ran with my hands in the air, my throat tight with emotion. The finishing tape was held before me and I ran through........

My first Ironman was over, 11 months since my first triathlon. I was going to Hawaii. I was going to race the same race my mother had 30 years ago after overcoming a nearly fatal ski accident and overcoming all the odds to be an Ironman world record holder. I would stand on that pier and look over to her and tell her how much I love her and that as much as this journey has been about me, I did it all for her.

Nothing.

After I crossed the line, the first person to get to me was my coach. I hugged him and thanked him. He looked at me and smilled and said, "You smoked my last IMAZ time by 10min!" My wife, mom and friend had been in the grandstand as I finished and came along side the finishing chute fence. I hugged and kissed my wife and then turned to my mom. She had tears in her eyes as she put her arms around me and I said in her ear, "This was for you."


Ironman is very expensive, but man do you get your moneys worth. There are so many volunteers and qaulity activities, a great diner and breakfast, they really take care of you.