Ironman weekend is a complete invasion of athletes upon a city to do battle with the course. By the end of the day, they all look like they’ve been to war. Ironman Florida was no different. 2500 athletes entered the ocean like turtles migrating to water for the first time. Survival it was as one many lost time fighting the subtle current. The ocean current pushed us right to left making the straight out and back swim difficult to maneuver. Many of us swam up stream to round the corner buoy. Swimming only twice since IM Canada (August) made things unnecessarily more difficult. I made the 2:20 swim cutoff with 3 minutes to spare and was the last official athlete out of the water. I felt for those who were still out there heading for shore only to be told their game was over.

In 1999, I was standing on the Beach in Penticton Canada waiting for the gun to go off. It would be my first Ironman. Located at the rear behind 1700 other wetsuits, I thought “what am I doing here?” Everyone looked so fit. I didn’t belong here. “This is a big mistake. What have I gotten myself into?” Completely unaware of the pain and emotional roller coaster waiting for us on the course, doubt weighed heavy on my mind. The sound of a young lady next to me breaking down it tears caught my attention. I asked what was probably the most stupid question at the time,….“what’s wrong?” “I can’t do this” she cried. I lifted my left arm and said, “lady, you have the use of both arms. If I can do this, so can you.” And as I uttered those words, the gun sounded. I looked straight into her goggles, pointed at her and said “I will see you at the finish line” and then we made like fish.