First Woman to Swim Across The Atlantic

First Woman to Swim Across The Atlantic

OK, now this pretty much takes the cake.

On approximately Decmber 20, 56 year old Aspen resident Jennifer Figge (and mother of LeMans series race car driver Alex Figge) will attempt a trans-Atlantic ocean swim from the Cape Verde Islands off the coast of Africa to Barbados -- 2,100 miles!

The plan?  Swim 6-8 hours per day for 60 straight days.  During the other hours she will rest, eat and drift aboard her escort boat.  Her customized catamaran has a makeshift shark cage made of Kevlar attached to the back carrying her, her captain Bill Ray, a doctor, and at least one crew member and diver on a trek that will cost at least $250,000. The sailboat will be using its motor much of the way to slow down for Figge, consuming more than 700 gallons of fuel. Figge hopes to get sponsors to defray some of the cost, and Ray also has footed part of the bill.

Who is this person?

First, she's a mom.  Her son Alex Figge is LeMans series race car driver Alex Figge -- another endurance athlete in his own right.

Second, she is not new to pushing the limits.  As a runner, Jennifer has run 400 miles across France.  350 miles across Romania.  450 miles across India.  576 miles across South America.  300 miles across Thailand.  300 miles across Iceland, and 180 miles across Mexico, the final 60 miles in a leg cast!

As a swimmer, she has swum the Straights of Gibraltar, from Tahiti to Moorea, from Turkey to Greece, across the Cozumel Channel and through the heads of Sydney Harbor.  Last year she conquered 8 foot swells to swim from Cay Sal Bank in the Bahamas to marathon in the Florida Keys.

What she now attempts has only been accomplished by 2 people, both men.  Allegedly.  Both attempts are somewhat suspect.  The first guy used a kickboard and was unsupervised.  The second guys (Frenchman Benoit Lecomte) swam 3,716 miles from Cape Cod to Brittany over 73 days, but he stopped along the way at the Azores Islands.

"I wouldn't be doing this if I functioned on common logic," Figge said. "Those who don't know the impossible are the ones who make things possible."

Click HERE for both a video and print interview with Figge in the Miami Herald.

Click HERE to follow her trek via GPS for real-time navigation.

And if you are on Facebook, click HERE to join her fan club.

Jason Lester's Ultraman Race Recap

Jason Lester's Ultraman Race Recap

If you want to be truly inspired, check out my man Jason Lester's first hand account of his Ultraman experience.  As I've mentioned many times on this blog, Jason is the first physically challenged athlete to complete Ultraman.  

But that is only one dimension of his story.  

Physical limitations aside, this guy's spirit, determination and perseverance are beyond that of mere mortals.

Click HERE for the report and get ready to be INSPIRED!

Ford Ironman World Championships on NBC

Ford Ironman World Championships on NBC

Damn if NBC doesn't know how to dramatize.  Check out the promo for this weekend's broadcast of the 2008 Ford Ironman World Championships on NBC.  The tympanic drums, and symphonic musical score, the epic cinematography, the panoramic landscape, the warrior athletes -- NBC has a way of making this event seem like the Battle or Algiers or Saving Private Ryan.  Pretty cool though, I must admit, especially since I just traversed this same hallowed ground only 2 weeks ago.  

Every year NBC does a great job on this broadcast, balancing the pro race against always compelling human interest stories.  And speaking of inspirational human interest stories, Jason Lester told me the NBC crew was tracking him pretty closely during this event, so I have my fingers crossed that he is one of the highlighted athletes.

Pumped to check this out -- tune in December 13 at 2:30 (EST).

More Photos From Ultraman

More Photos From Ultraman

Here are a bunch of photos taken by my crew buddy LW throughout the UM odyssey.  He gave me a disc with over 800 photos he took along the way.  This is the first batch.  I'll post a few more later.  But this should begin give you an idea of just how hard, fun, exhausting, exhilirating and incredible this event is.

Day 1, and well into the 6.2 mile swim.  I tied an orange squid fishing lure to the back of the kayak with some ribbon and weights and just focused on watching it bobble all morning, like a mantra.  I still can't get that image out of my head.

My dad seems happy.  But this was only the first day in the van.  Its not easy spending 26 hours in a van with a bunch of guys you don't know, but they were beyond great.  And although I'm sure he had no idea what to expect, I know he had a great time.  I am so grateful he made the trip.  Josef Ajram told me he is poaching my dad for his crew next year.

Coming out of the swim.  Other than a few minor stings, I didn't suffer any sever jellyfish attacks. Many others were not so lucky.

                   

Out of the water and onto the bike.  90 miles and almost 8000' of climbing ahead of me before I can rest.  Honestly, I floundered in transition.  It took me forever to get out of here.  I was completely out of it and dehydrated.  I think I drank 3 water bottles on the first 2 mile climb out of Keahou Bay.

Brief father-son bonding moment before I head out on the Day 1 bike.  I think my dad is trying to figure out what to do.

           

  

LW on the road.  Pretty much sums up this guy. He doesn't mess around.  Glad he's on my side.  He was rock solid.

My dad and Shanna Armstrong's crew dude Johhny Phillips.  I tried to convince my dad to put on the skirt.  It didn't really work out.  He was too focused on LW's tattoos and musing about the Hawaiian national bird, the Ne Ne.

Day 2 bike -- 170 miles / 8600' of climbing.  Nice and steady for the first 100.  Not sure where we are here -- had to be about 1/2 into the day's ride -- but I'm thinking about that steep climb up the Kohalas at mile 150.

My crew captain Chris Uettwiller, always prepared and ready with my nutrition and motivation.  He worked his butt off for me.  I totally underestimated how hard the crew job really is.  I think he did too, but he totally rose to the occasion and beyond.  I owe him big time.

My dad and Chris.  Shirking their crew responsibilities for a bonding moment.

Day 2 again.  As you can tell, it was starting to get hot.

Pre-dawn, Day 3 at the athlete and crew breakfast in Hawi.  Everyone is lathering up with sunscreen for a long hard hot day on the lava fields.  On the left is Tony O'Keefe.  A true badass super stud.  Not only is he Director of the Royal Canadian Military College, he is a perennial top finisher at UM, including a slew of runner up finishes as well as a couple appearances at the RAAM cross country bicycle race.  He crushed Day 1 with the fastest time.  I won't forget him whizzing by me a couple hours into my Day 1 bike leg.  He smiled at me, flashing a toothless gap that scared the crap out of me.  No doubt a hockey injury.  On the right is Dan Bodden, another member of the Canadian Military Mafia.  If we had been attacked during the race. these guys would have taken care of business.

Lathering up for Day 3, 52.4 mile run from Hawi to Kona on the scorcher lava fields.

Chris paces me with my nutrition.  No blisters, no stomach issues, no cramps.  I was being looked after very well.

This should give you an idea of just how hot it was out there.

DONE!!!!!

3 Days

320 miles

26 hours

33 minutes

42 seconds

11th overall

3rd fastest American

2nd fastest swimmer

I can't believe I just did that.

Peter Mueller, Shanna Armstrong and me, post-race.

My dad and his girlfriend

Above, Josef Ajram totally out of it after the run.  I gotta give it to him -- he really went for it.  Out in 3:45 at the marathon mark, only to hit the wall with cramps, blisters, heat exhaustion, you name it.  He still finished the run in 8:33, but here he is in medical shock.  But after a couple cheeseburgers back at the hotel, he was fine.

Jason Lester and me at the awards dinner; the results waxboard; and Alexandre Ribeiro, the 2008 Champion.

Marathon des Sables

Marathon des Sables

OK, this got my attention.

My new Ultraman buddy Josef Ajram from Spain is trying to convince me I should do Marathon des Sables -- a ludicrous 6 day / 151 mile (243km) endurance race across the Sahara Desert in southern Morocco.  Many consider MdS to be the toughest foot race in the world, covering a distance equivalent to six marathons over six days.  On sand.

This is insane, incredible, compelling, exhilarating and absurd.  If you don't believe me, click HERE to watch this beautiful short documentary by Canal + / Spanish television of Josef and his his friends making the attempt last year.  One of Josef's teammates is former Spanish soccer star Luis Enrique.  It is beautifully shot, and although in Spanish, you will quickly get the idea.

Josef has done the race twice and is going back in April for a third attempt.  Despite his urgings, don't think April is in the cards for me.  But I admit the wheels in my head are turning -- maybe 2010?  It will be the 25th anniversary of the race.  Hard to think of anything more epic.

Click HERE for the Marathon des Sables website

Lester Does It Again

Lester Does It Again

Check out this sweet article that appears on the front page of Ironman.com today on my Ultraman buddy Jason Lester.  I can't say enough about this guy.  I had the honor of getting to know him in Kona, and he never ceases to inspire and amaze me.

Lester Does It Again

Dawn Henry profiles Hawaii's Jason Lester

Published Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Jason Lester was nearing the end of day two of the 2008 Ultraman World Championships. He was 160 miles into a 170 mile bike ride on the Big Island of Hawaii, clinging to his bike with one hand, working his brakes on the steep, winding descent with two fingers, while crosswinds repeatedly blew him across the road.

Every athlete who has competed in the Ford Ironman World Championship, or who has watched coverage of the race on television, knows of the legendary "road to Hawi." Slicing like a blade through barren volcanic plains, the narrow strip of asphalt transports suffering athletes through undulating heat and body-pummeling crosswinds along the sparkling northwest coast of the Big Island of Hawaii.


There's a second road to Hawi that escapes the attention of most Ironman fans. Rising from the ranch town, Waimea, it winds like a serpent up and over the rippling flanks of the Big Island's oldest volcano, Kohala, romping along through the birth place of the winds that each year haunt even the strongest Ironman World Championship competitors.

Here, the Ultraman World Championship course requires cyclists to endure switchback after endless switchback through cloud-dusted hillsides. As Lester had ascended toward the peak of the mountain, a screaming tailwind carried him and his fellow competitors along at speeds of more than 20 miles an hour.

The road bent down and those tailwinds became crosswinds that blew through scraggly tree stands and bore down on everything on their path. Calorie-depleted, with muscles from his neck to his ankles spasming and cramping, Lester battled his way against the invisible demons to the day two finish line in Hawi. He'd made it in just over 10 hours. A remarkable feat for any endurance athlete on the planet, made more so by the fact that Lester's right arm is paralyzed.

Lester has been an athlete all his life. Growing up, he took to one team sport after another, including football and baseball. He was hit by a car at 12 and was fortunate to survive the accident that left him with 21 broken bones, a collapsed lung and a paralyzed right arm. With incredible determination, Lester returned to sports as a teen, even with the paralyzed arm.

A high school teacher who was training for the Ironman World Championship inspired Lester to try multisport events. It didn't take long before he was a top duathlete and for years he raced biking and running events. Then, in October 2004, he happened to be visiting the Big Island on the day of the Ironman World Championship.

Lester came out to watch and found himself identifying with the competitors on a very deep level. He told himself, "This is you. This is what you've always wanted to do. This is your lifestyle. This is everything you represent."

By the end of 2006, Lester had left behind a successful career in California and moved to Kona. He signed up for the 2007 Ford Ironman Arizona, although he still hadn't managed to swim the length of a pool.

Enter Karlyn Pipes-Neilsen, Kona resident and masters swimming world record holder. Pipes-Neilsen worked with Lester to teach him how to make the most of his one-armed freestyle stroke. In his very first Ironman, Lester exited the water in 1:29:29. His finish time was 12:38:53. Lester was hooked. He asked himself, "What's next?"

The next challenge came at Ironman Western Australia last year, with a 1:35:00 swim and a race PR of 11:48:06. There, Lester met his current coach, Dave Ciaverella, who offered Lester something other coaches had failed to do – a plan to prepare for an even larger challenge – the 2008 Ultraman World Championships.

Held each year on the Big Island of Hawaii over Thanksgiving weekend, the Ultraman World Championship challenges 35 of the world's most rugged endurance athletes to 320 miles of racing over three days. Day one includes a six mile swim starting from the famed Kailua-Kona Pier. Competitors swim out to the turn-around buoy for the Ford Ironman World Championship and then just keep on going, through five more miles of ocean swells and currents. They top off day one with a 90-mile bike ride to Volcano. Day two is a scenic, undulating 170-mile bike ride from Volcano to tiny Hawi. On day three, the Ultraman athletes put on their running shoes for a double-marathon from Hawi back to Kailua-Kona, along the same broiling route that Ironman competitors bike in October.

Although other physically challenged athletes have attempted to complete the Ultraman World Championship, none had ever succeeded. Lester decided to become the first.

While training last spring, another dream came true. He was selected through the lottery to participate in the 2008 Ford Ironman World Championship. Lester says he's watched every Ironman World Championship on video. He says he went in knowing he was prepared, knowing that "I belonged there."

With the Ultraman just six weeks after the Ironman World Championship, Lester says he did not race all out. Instead, he "really tried to enjoy it, enjoy every moment." Lester still managed a 1:35:56 swim and a 13:07:21 overall time, placing first in his division.

Two days later, Lester was training again, preparing for the Ultraman. On the Friday after Thanksgiving, he walked into the clear, blue Pacific Ocean at Kailua Pier for the start of the race. Despite ocean currents that added hours to some of the swimmers' times, Lester managed to make the swim cut-off and bike one-handed through rain and mountainous ascents, finishing in the darkness in Volcano within the race's allotted twelve hour time cut-off.

Day two finished with Lester's charge up and over Kohala mountain and his refusal to give in to the Big Island's strongest winds. On Day three, Lester ran the same course he'd ridden six weeks earlier to return to Kailua-Kona, finishing the double marathon under Hawaii's relentless sun in just over ten hours. All told, Lester completed the Ultraman World Championship in 24th place, racing just over 32 hours in three days and becoming the first physically challenged athlete to complete the event.

Lester says he couldn't have accomplished his incredible year in triathlon without the help of so many in his life, but even he acknowledges how important mental determination has been to his successes. "When I got hit by that car, I could have stopped ... I kept telling myself, 'never stop. Keep going forward.' We all have setbacks. We all have amazing stories."

Lester's most amazing story from Ultraman came during the swim. Halfway through, Lester ran into a pool of jellyfish. Tentacles wrapped around his neck and down the length of his swimming arm and he began to have trouble breathing. A rescue boat plucked Lester from the water and, after checking him out, told him they were going to have to call 911 and bring him to shore.

Eighteen months of training and sacrifice flashed through Lester's mind and he did what came naturally. He jumped out of the boat, back into the same pool of jellyfish, and swam for all he was worth. "I refused to allow that to be the ending," says Lester. Congratulations to a man who, no matter what script he's handed, writes his own ending.

Ultraman Year-By-Year Results Comparison

Ultraman Year-By-Year Results Comparison

Because I am obsessive compulsive, I just had to take a look back and compare my Ultraman finishing time of 26:33:47 against prior year results to see how I might have fared.  Don't hold it against me.  I can't help it.

Of course, time is close to meaningless in this absurdly long event -- there are so many variables that play such a major part -- ocean currents, high winds, rain, mechanicals, etc.  And this year we had GREAT conditions.  Although I'm told the swim currents this year were quite adverse and cost swimmers anywhere from 10 to 20 minutes, I can't honestly say that I noticed anything major (although I have nothing to compare it to).  But we had basically no rain and despite some occasional headwinds, it probably wasn't bad as compared to prior years.

That said, I couldn't help but notice that my time holds up pretty damn well against prior year results.  In fact, I would have placed substantially HIGHER in every year other than one over the last 15.  I would have been top 10 in every prior year except one (in 1999 I would have finished 11th just as I did this year).  Amazingly, my time would have been 2nd in 1992, 1993 and 2005; 3rd in 1994 and top 5 in 7 of the last 15 years!

Again, I can only assume that conditions were horrible in those years, as I just can't believe I could have placed that high.  But still, I admit its sort of cool to wonder....Then again, maybe the field this year was just that fast.  Just that deep.

Here's how my time would have measured up over the last 15 years of Ultraman Hawaii.  This kinda blows my mind:

2007: 8th

2006: 4th

2005: 2nd

2004: 6th

2003: N/A

2002: 5th

2001: 7th

2000: 5th

1999: 11th

1998: 6th

1997: 6th

1996: 6th

1995: 8th

1994: 3rd

1993: 2nd

1992: 2nd

What Now!?!

What Now!?!

I wouldn't say I'm depressed.  None of that big post-race letdown.  Actually I'm enjoying a bit of time off and resuming some balance in my life.  Time with the family and getting on top of work.  Money has been very tight (I'm sure I'm preaching to the choir for many), so I'm focused on bringing in some dough.

But in the back of my mind is: what's next?  I am already getting enthused for the next challenge.  I need to put some thought into what I want to accomplish athletically in '09.  With the huge base I have, I am thinking about working intensively on my running and popping off a good LA Marathon in March.  Then maybe Wildflower or Vineman?  But I think I'm set on going back to Ultraman as my key race for next year.  I thought about trying to qualify for IM Kona, but its just so competitive in my 40-44 age bracket, maybe I should wait on that until I age up.  Focus now on some ultra events -- Bulldog 50K (in my backyard), a double marathon, I dunno.  If you have any interesting ideas for me, I'm all ears.

On another note, I wanted to set the record straight on something.  I'm no pro athlete.  Yeah, I swam in college.  At Stanford.  With world record holders.  But I wasn't one of them.  I was good.  But not great.  I was lucky to score a point or two in a dual meet, but never met the qualifying standards for the NCAA Championships or the Olympic Trials.  We won 2 NCAA Division I Championships while I was at Stanford, but since I fell just shy of the qualifying times, I didn't make either of those trips.  I was on the team, but no rings.

After college, I began a slovenly 15 year descent into alcohol addiction that came close to killing me, and those around me.  By 32, I was basically a broken man -- unemployable and alienated from my family and friends.  Its a long boring story.  But needless to say, during those years there was absolutely nothing athletic about anything I did.  I got drunk.  I fell down.  I crashed cars.  I got DUI's.  I never showed up.  I was an asshole and a liar.  It was a dark time.  But through the grace of God I was able to get sober in 1997 and begin the long slow process of piecing my life back together.  It wasn't easy.  

And for the next 9 years, that's what I focused on.  After a year of sobriety I met the love of my life and we have been together ever since.  10 years later and again through God's grace I am still sober, happily married, self-employed and the father to 2 wonderful little girls and 2 stepsons, who make my world go around.

But from 1998 through most of 2007 I barely lifted a finger.  I was completely sedentary for the most part.  By October 2007 I weighed 198 lbs (30 lbs more than I currently weigh) and decided to make a change on my 40th birthday.  I got a bike for my birthday (I hadn't ridden a bike in about 18 years) and decided to get "active".  There was no big goal.  Just wanted to get my blood moving again.  But like a good addictive personality, once I started riding, I wanted more.  But again for the record -- I'm no bike racer and I'm certainly no born runner.

On New Year's Day 2007 I decided to do a 7 day "cleanse" and went vegetarian.  Two months later this morphed into a total vegan diet.  It felt really good.  I started working out more and some weight gradually started to come off.

But I was still a weekend warrior -- one ride a week and maybe a 45 minute run or swim here and there; nothing to write home about.  I tried the Wildflower long course triathlon in the Spring of 2007 and DNF'd.  The bike killed me and I quit 1/2 mile into the run.  I was pissed and decided (again gradually) to start training a bit more.  Just on my own.  I entered the Long Beach Marathon but ended up walking after 18 miles (told you I can't run).  Not impressive.

It wouldn't be until May of this year that I would hire Chris Hauth as my coach and begin to "train".  I looked around to try to get into an Ironman race, but all the races were sold out.  I had no idea that you had to sign up a full year prior.  What was I going to do?  I'm officially "training" with no race!  I had read an article about David Goggins and Ultraman and was instantly captivated.  It just sounded like the coolest thing ever -- what a great way to celebrate 10 years of sobriety.  I have no idea why, but I felt compelled to do this.  So I just called up the race director and asked if she would let me in!  I had no idea what I was undertaking, nor what I was asking her to do.  Here I was, a duffer.  No IM experience.  No ultra running.  My only attempt at something like a half-ironman resulted in a DNF.  Not even a decent marathon result to fall back on.  But Jane was gracious and open.  And after a few weeks of decent training my coach e-mailed her and told her he would have me ready.  That made the difference and she let me in.

I stuck to Chris' training plan.  I think I only missed about 4 workouts in 7 months.  I was terrified.  Only 7 months to go from duffer to Ultraman.  But somehow I did it, and often against the protestations of some people close to me who said I was taking on too much.  That I was risking my health.  That it was foolish or compulsive or the manifestations of "untreated alcoholism".  But with the help of so many people, and in particular the unwavering love and support of my wife and my coach, I saw it through to a fantastic and life-altering result.

Not only did I finish Ultraman, I raced it!....I was competitive!  I was riding and running with world-class athletes that have been doing this race and other insane ultra events for years, and in some cases decades.  Guys who have been racing their bikes and going pro and breaking records and running fast for the better part of their lives.  And although I'm not saying I was up there with them, I was in the 'hood.  In the mix.  11th overall.  3rd best American.  I still can't believe it.

This is all a very long way of saying that I am nothing special.  God inspired me to do this.  I trained hard and was supported.  But I'm just a regular guy.  Married with kids and a career who somehow pieced this crazy adventure together.

I'm not saying that I'm anything special. 

I'm not saying Ultraman is for everyone or that everyone should try it. 

I'm just saying that you just might be more capable of achieving something (anything) you think you can't.

I'm just saying there's something to be gained by exploring yourself outside your comfort zone.

Because from where I sit, and where I was 10 years ago, its almost unfathomable to see where I now reside.

Thank You!

Thank You!

Just wanted to drop a line of thanks to everyone who supported me over the last six months in pursuit of my Ultraman goal.  As I mentioned from the podium at the awards dinner, nobody gets to Ultraman alone.  I know this for sure.

First, my incredible wife Julie and my 4 kids.  Without their love and support, it would not have been possible.  Julie is and has been so supportive, it moves me to even think about it.  Despite all the long training weekends, she has been my backbone and my biggest fan.  And I can honestly say that we have come out the backside of this experience more in love than ever.  My only Ultraman regret is that she and the kids could not make the trip due to finances.  This is something I intend to correct for '09 and a great experience to go back next year!

To my coach Chris Hauth.  The man with the plan.  Chris knew exactly how hard to push me and wrote the perfect training plan for me.  Then came through with the optimal race strategy -- including my strategy for the 52.4 mile run that made all the difference and kept me up high in the overall rankings.  There is NO WAY I could have even approached this feat without Chris.

To my UM Crew -- Chris Uettwiller, LW Walman and my dad.  I had no idea what a rough job this would be.  They rose to the occasion with flying colors, always ready with the solution.  I owe all of them big time!

To the Maximum Hope Foundation -- Jill & Kimberley have been a fantastic support throughout.  I raised a fair amount of money for this worthy charity, only wish I had raised more.  Again, another reason to return in '09!

To my training buddies -- Chris Uettwiller, Dave Meyer and Vinnie Tortorich, as well as the occasional rides with Tony Pritzker, Darren Wald, Bob Steinberg, Jeff Seabold and Gary Bub.  Although most of my training was lone wolf, these guys kept me going both on and off the bike.

To the Ultraman staff and particular Jane Bockus.  When I called her 8 months ago and begged her to let me in the race, she must have thought I was crazy ("You've never even done a half-ironman?").  So grateful that she took a chance on me and let me in the race.  She had no reason to let me in, as I had done close to nothing to warrant an invite.  Jane, you changed my life.  No joke.

To all the great friends and colleagues I met at Ultraman, always quick with encouragement and advice for the newcomer -- Grant at BikeWorks who worked on my fit; Gary Wang who had tons of advice for me and made sure I was invited / included in all the pre-race athlete rendezvous; Jason Lester, with whom I know I will be growing closer; Shanna Armstrong, always in control -- just another day at the office for her:); Peter Mueller, Miro Kregar, Brian Smallwood, Josef Ajram and on and on.

To my law partner Steve Kaplan, who supported me throughout, despite some afternoon arrivals at the office and a few sneaky Fridays mysteriously gone from work.

To my parents and my sister, always encouraging, so much so that my dad flew all the way from DC to crew for me, certainly unprepared for what he would encounter, yet thrilled by it all.

To all my friends all over the country and overseas who followed my journey on Facebook or by e-mails and phone calls.  The outpouring of support was truly moving.

I love you all.

A Few Pictures

A Few Pictures

Still waiting on a disc with tons of Ultraman photos, but in the meantime, thought I'd post a few from the UM website. They are low res thumbnails, so apologies for the small file size & fuzziness. 

Here I am at the end of Day 1.  I was 2nd out of the swim and held that spot for a while before being passed by Seedhouse, O'Keefe and Ribeiro a couple hours in.  I gave it all I had but was starting to fade on the 22 mile climb ('3950 of elevation gain) to the finish.  Here Miro Kregar passes me with only 1/2 mile to go for the day.  That was hard to swallow, my only comfort being that Miro went on to win the 52.4 mile run in a stunning 6:14 to finish 3rd overall. 

Another one of Miro blasting his move on me.  I was powerless!

Out of the water and onto the bike for the Day 1 90 miler with 7600' of elevation gain.  My crew captain Chris Uettwiller hooks me up.

Coming out of the water in 2nd position, 2 minutes behind leader Marty Raymond.  He busted a surge on me at 2K, opened a gap but never widened it.  Should have gone with him.  I'm looking pretty wobbly.  Though my time was a bit slower than I was expecting, the currents were not favorable this year, slowing everyone at least 10 minutes.

Group photo of all the competitors at the pre-race meeting the day before.  That's me in front, 3rd from the right.

More Ultraman Photos on Slowtwitch

More Ultraman Photos on Slowtwitch

Click HERE and HERE for some great pictures of Ultraman taken by Timothy Carlson for Slowtwitch.com.

There's a nice one of me running alonside my crew captain Chris Uettwiller in the pre-dawn early / feeling good phase of the Day III 52.4 mile run -- last photo in the first series.

Ultraman Recap on Slowtwitch

Ultraman Recap on Slowtwitch

Click HERE for a great UM recap article on Slowtwitch.com by Timothy Carlson. Great profile and insight on the top guys -- Tony O'Keefe, Eric Seedhouse, Peter Kotland, Alexandre Ribeiro, Miro Kregar and Shanna Armstrong.

KREGAR, RIBEIRO AND KOTLAND ON THE LAVA FIELDS

KOTLAND

RIBEIRO, 2008 UM CHAMPION

SEEDHOUSE

O'KEEFE

Ultraman -- Day 3 Recap

Ultraman -- Day 3 Recap

I set my alarm for 4:30, but awoke at 4:00, restless and unable to sleep.  How is it possible that I could have problems sleeping after the past 2 days?  The mysteries of the body.  Top UM finisher Peter Kotland said he couldn't sleep for 3 days after winning the event (with his epochal 5:33 course record setting double marathon) 10 years ago, so I guess its a thing.

Anyway, I got out of bed, hyper aware of just how tired my legs were.  I wouldn't say sore, just a deep fatigue.  Running at all (or even getting out of bed) seemed like a bad idea.  But the notion of throwing down 52.4 in the Hawaiian Sahara?  Almost inconceivable.  But my heavy training and the 5 race simulation weekends I had under my belt had prepared me both mentally and physically for this.  Just five weeks ago I rode 140 miles then woke up the next day on shredded legs to run 45 miles, so I knew I would be fine.

Had some coffee and Chris, LW, my dad and I headed down the road to the competitor and crew buffet breakfast.  I rarely eat much of anything before a long run, but again I knew I needed to get some calories in.  I loaded my plate as Josef Ajram looked at me like I was crazy.  "You can't eat like that before running!"  Maybe he was right.  But I was starved.

As we finished eating, it began to pour rain.  Great.  

I headed for one last bathroom break.  Waiting for a stall I chatted with race leader Alexandre Ribeiro, who would be facing a battle today with Miro Kregar and Peter Kotland.  I told him I wished I could be around to watch the showdown and asked his thoughts on the day, particularly if he thought he could beat Kotland.  And it was at this moment that Peter Kotland himself appeared from the stall we had been waiting on!  Dude, that was seriously embarrassing.  Not that I had cast any dispersions on him, or any of these guys for that matter.  They are all incredible athletes and champions.

But as we ventured out to our vans to caravan about a 1/2 mile down the road to the race start, the rain mysteriously stopped just as abruptly as it began.

Crowding along the side of the highway in the dark, the runners and crew readied themselves with last minute preparations as race director Jane Bockus gathered the competitors in a circle around a native elder.  Arm in arm in a large circle, we bowed our heads in unison as an elder said a prayer blessing, then blew a resounding tone on a huge conch shell to begin the day.  We all moved to the road and within seconds we were off.

5 seconds later, our fearless leaders -- running gods -- were off.  Miro Kregar, Alexandre Ribeiro, Peter Kotland, Tony O'Keefe -- gone and never to be seen by me until the finish line.  Today was to be my tortiose moment.  Slow and steady.  Conservative and smart.  So slow and conservative in fact, that almost the entire field was ahead of me by the end of the first mile.

My plan was to break the run into an interval workout.  8 x 1 hour repeats, with about five minutes of walking in between.  I ran the first hour according to plan, right along side Jason Lester.  We chatted nervously, agreeing that we would take it super easy.  Its a long day and we both knew there would be countless roadkill by mid-afternoon.  The first long section is a descent, which may seem easy but can prove fatal to the thighs later on if one is not careful, so my pace was nothing to write home about.  Heart rate steady at 128 - 134 max.

I took my break at the one hour mark and was being very careful to hydrate and take in proper nutrition and electrolytes.  The morning sky was very clear, so I knew it was going to be blazing on the Queen K highway lava fields very soon.  

I had been unable to get my coach Chris Hauth on the phone that morning and I knew he wanted to impart some stratagy, so I had Chris call him from the van.  He wasn't able to reach him initially, but around the 90 minutes mark, they connected.  Chris hopped out of the van and jogged alongside me.  "So what's the news?"  

"Well," Chris said, reluctant.  "he wants you to run 4 miles, then walk a mile.  Then repeat."

"What?!?!?  Walk a full mile every fifth mile?  You gotta be kidding me!  I trained to run this thing!  I did a 45 mile run 5 weeks ago!  I can do this."

"I think you should listen to him."  Chris' words fell like a ton of bricks.  To me this sounded like conceding the day.  A loss of faith in my abilities.  Like throwing in the towel.  Giving up.  Not an option.

"He says it will pay huge dividends late in the day.  You need to follow his advice."

Shit.  The guilt trip.  Hauth knows what's he's talking about.  This I know.  He is a top ironman pro.  He has trained people for this race.  Chris was right.  I needed to take the advice.  It was just so counter to every competitive fiber in my body.  But I relented.  And this restraint was probably the hardest part of the entire race.  Harder than the swim, the Day 1 climb or the ascent over the Kohalas.  I knew I needed to be a tortoise today, but not a slug.

I agreed to give it a shot.  The first mile I walked, I was passed by so many people my head was spinning.  On the second cycle I think I was in 32nd place.  Only 3 people behind me.  I was in 9th place overall dammit!  This was not how I though the day would play out.  And this is precisely why my coach didn't lay the strategy on me the night before -- he knew I would revolt.

At the 1/2 marathon mark, I was still in 32nd.  It was the slowest 1/2 marathon of my life.  "Can I please start running!?"

"No."  Chris said abruptly.  I get the walking part.  Just not the full mile part.

But it wasn't long before this highly suspect strategy started to prove its point.  Every time I ran, I would pass bewteen 2 to 4 people.  Then when I walked, 1 of these people would again pass me, but not the others.  When I again ran, I would pass that person, plus 2-3 more.  On and on.  Again and again.  Leapfrogging.  I started to believe.

By the marathon marker, I had begun to slowly move up the field and had seriously negative split the course so far.  But even better, I felt totally fresh and fine.  26 miles so far?  No problem.  

By now it was hot.  I mean really hot.  about 88 degrees with intense humidity.  I took in water, CarboPro1200 and Endurloyes.  I held ice cubes in both hands to cool my core temp.  I was holding an even pace on the running, still maintaining about 135 bpm.

By mile 30, things were starting to get ridiculous.  The bodies began to pile up on the road and I became the hunter.  The highway is so straight and long, you could spot people 1/2 mile up the road, like blurry oases.  I would spot someone, then challenge myself to pass them before my 4 mile spurt would end.  And generally I would do it.  "Whose next?" I'd ask the crew.  Then I'd reel them in.  One after another.

And if I still wasn't a full believer, around 38-40 miles I passed Gary Wang, who was ahead of me in the overall.  Gary is a supreme ultra-runner, having competed several times in the Western States 100, among other legendary races.  He was hurting badly and suffering from stomach issues.  And I just kept feeling stronger.

But 52 miles is still 52 miles.  And the Kona heat is still the Kona heat.  All bets remain off and at around 40+ miles things started to get difficult.  I didn't want Chris or LW running alongside me anymore -- any outside stimulus was too much.  I had to narrow my focus and conserve as much energy as possible.  I had no room for any movement not essential.  And each 4 miler became progressively more difficult.  The first mile was all about finding my running legs again.  Miles 2-3 were hitting a solid stride.  And mile 4 was holding on to that pace until it was time to walk again.

And the Kona landscape can be so deceiving.  When you pas the airport, you think you are almost home.  And yet still so far to go.  Every mile started to feel like 10.  With about 9 or so miles left, I took my last walk break, which I cut short when I saw Mike Rouse behind me just a little too close for comfort (he was still almost a half-mile behind).  So I cut the walk break short and focused on running the last 7-8 miles straight through to the end.  Chris ran with me through the intersections to ensure my safety.  But everything began to hurt.  I resisted every temptation to slow, thinking about how much I sacfrificed for this moment -- time away from wife and kids, missing my stepson Trapper's soccer games (he made the All Star team), date nights with my wife, trips to the zoo, birthday parties with my 4 year old daughter, and all semblance of a social life.  There was no way I was going to slow down.  So I sped up.

I pass the Marina and headed for home.  Just a couple miles until the turnoff down the hill to the finish line.  Every stride was painful and I could feel my left hamstring and right calf / achilles starting to go out on me.  I finished the last salt tabs I had and prayed I wouldn't get a cramp, the only thing I feared could sideline me at this point.

As I made the turn down the hill, the emotions began to swell.  I got goosebumps.  My crew was cheering.  Chris ran along side me for a bit, telling me it was an honor to be there for me.  The feeling was mutual.  Tears began to well as I laid down the last half mile into Old Airport Park.  And yet the actual finish was still so far down the road!  I tried to pick it up, but I was maxed.  It was all I could do to just hold my pace across the line.

I finished.  9:00 hours even.  Certainly not a time I can brag about.  But I did negative split the course and I am pretty damn sure I was the only one who did.  That said, I was again prepared to learn that I had plummeted in the overall rankings.  I was so far back.  There was no way I was in the tope 15, maybe not even in the top 20 anymore.  And I was OK with that.  I had given it everything I had that day.

Final place: 11th.

Shock.  I had only dropped 2 spots from 9th the day prior.  That can't be right.  Some people must have dropped out.  Or been DQ'd.  Nope.  

11th place.  10th Fastest Male (Shanna Armstrong kicked my butt on the run to move up on me).  2nd Fastest Male American.  And (I think?) the top finisher amongst the UM first-timers.  Fair and square.

Damn if Chris Hauth wasn't right.  A freakin soothsayer.  Had I ran my race, I would have been keeled over on the side of the road.  Or at least in the medical tent, like so many others I saw at the finish line.

Josef Ajram was experiencing shock.  His toes terribly blistered and suffering from going out way too hard.  He was 3:45 at the marathin (I think I was like 4:40 or something absurd like that) and yet he only finished 27 minutes ahead of me.  And many others.  Sure my legs were toast and I could barely walk, but I was lucid.  And happy.

I was greeted at the finish by my crew, as well as by Chris' girlfriend Erin and her parents, who supported throughout.  I was elated, if not depleted, exhausted, dehydrated and all sorts of other "-ted's".

But I was an Ultraman.  I am an Ultraman.  And I will never forget this experience.

More thoughts, reflections and tons of photos to come.  But for now, below are the official race results:

24th Ultraman World Championship
November 28-30, 2008
The Big Island, Hawaii
S 6.2 mi/ B 90 mi./ B 171.4 mi./ R 52.4 mi.

Final Results

Men

1. Andre Ribeiro (BRA) Swim 3:12:00 (7) Bike 1&2 12:22:06 (1) Run 6:15:32 (2) 21:49:38
2. Tony O'Keefe (CAN) Swim 3:04:06 (6) Bike 1&2 12:40:40 (3) Run 6:46:58 (4) 22:31:51
3. Miro Kregar (SLO) Swim 3:19:53 (16) Bike 1&2 13:06:00 (5) Run 6:14:16 (1) 22:35:24
4. Peter Kotland (CZE) Swim 3:19:53 (12) Bike 1&2 12:45:30 (4) Run 7:33:20 (5) 23:38:48
5. Carlos Conceicao (BRA) Swim 3:29:27 (14) Bike 1&2 14:11:42 (9) Run 6:46:28 (3) 24:27:17
6. Erik Seedhouse (CAN) Swim 2:55:53 (3) Bike 13:37:16 (7)) Run 8:03:59 (7) 24:37:08
7. Josef Ajram (ESP) Swim 3:35:03 (16) Bike 12:31:50 (2) Run 8:33:45 (11) 24:40:38
8. Scott Gower (USA) Swim 3:03:39 (5) Bike 1&2 13:56:03 (8)Run 8:24:46 (10) 25:24:28
9. Peter Mueller (SUI) Swim 3:14:33 (10) Bike 1&2 14:33:18 (10) Run 8:17:14 (9) 26:05:05
10. Richard Roll (USA) Swim 2:41:28 (2) Bike 1&2 14: 51:42 (12) Run 9:00:32 (15) 26:33:42

Women

1. Shanna Armstrong (USA) Swim 3:02:44 (1) Bike 1&2 15:05:06 (1) Run 8:17:13 (1) 26:25:03
2. Suzy Degazon (USA) Swim 4:59:08 (3) Bike 1&2 16:22:47 (2) Run 10:01:57 (2) 31:23:52
3. Catherine Paulson (USA) Swim 4:37:33 (2) Bike 1&2 16:52:33 (3) Run 11:16:11 (3) 32:48:22
DNF Leslie Holton (USA) Swim 5:46:58 (4) Bike 1 DNF Run 11:48:12 (4)

JASON LESTER, ME & BRIAN SMALLWOOD

AT THE FINISH LINE

Ultraman - Day 2 Recap

Ultraman - Day 2 Recap

Alarm went off in my Volcano House Hotel room at 4:30 and quickly up again with the crew to head down to the nearby Military Camp for the UM buffet breakfast.  

During training I was never big on eating much before a long ride, but today I loaded as much as I could down my throat.  And I am very careful about my diet -- vegan, gluten free, etc.  But today there wasn't much to choose from and I needed as many calories as possible.  So it was a mountain of fruit, bagels, muffins, juice, coffee and yogurt before heading down the road to the start line.

Another harried process of Chris getting the bike ready and getting me dressed for the chilly morning -- which involved a blistering 25 mile descent down from Volcanoes towards the East end of the Island.  This time the crew vans journeyed ahead down the mountain before the start to convene with us at the bottom of the descent.  Luckily my big fear of rain or wet pavement for this descent was a non-issue -- it was an unusually clear pre-dawn as the gun went off.

The descent was draft legal, and a lead group immediately formed and blasted ahead, churning 56/23 gear ratios and way too fast for me to join, especially in light of the 170 mile journey ahead.  I let them go (actually I didn't "let" them do anything -- they took off!) and I settled into a second group of about 12 riders, which included Eric Seedhouse, Peter Mueller and Shanna Armstrong.  We were a flying peloton, averaging between 35 - 42 mph for the entire first 25 miles, during which I barely pedaled.  It was a thrill.  At the bottom of the descent, we took a right turn and headed south towards the lower eastern region of the Island where riders met up with crews, flinging their shell jackets and warm weather gear off onto the highway shoulders.

I saw my crew and had to pee, so I decided to quickly pull over, get some food and remove my jacket.  In retrospect, I should have tried to pee off the bike (which I succeeded at doing later -- very proud about that!) and keep going, as I lost touch with Seedhouse, Mueller and Shanna.  Needless to say I never saw Seedhouse or Mueller again, and it would be hours before I would catch up to Shanna again in Hilo.

But my coach Chris Hauth's race day plan was for me to eat as much as possible all day, keep it very conservative and even for the first 100 miles, keep my energy levels high and have something left for the climb into Waimea and the steep ascent over the Kohalas at mile 140.  I focused on high carbs, regular foods and staying away from the sugary stuff until the last third.  And this worked great -- peanut butter sandwiches, hash browns, bananas, perpetum, water, repeat.  Level energy all day.

As we continued South, we embarked upon a counter-clockwise loop from Pahoa to Kaimu, then north to Kapoho along what is called the "Red Road" (because its literally red).  Crew vans were not allowed to join for this section, as the roads were very narrow.  It was unfortunate, as I found this untouched section of the Island the most beautiful -- lush and tropical in stark contrast to the endless harsh lava terrain of the previous day.  I was on my own here with no other riders in sight, constantly worried about missing a turn, as this was the only section of the course I was not able to drive prior.  But I was riding comfortably, eating and keeping my HR around 130-135 and feeling strong.  I passed 2 riders before travelling through Isaac Hale beach, a local surf spot.  I was admiring its beauty and the perfect set of surfing waves lining up just off the beach when I felt a sharp sting on my right hip -- I turned to realize a bunch of local kids were throwing unripe fruit at me, using me for target practice!  But I had to ignore it; let it go and soldier on, just grateful I didn't get hit in the face or seriously hurt.

As I emerged from the bumpy uneven pavement of the Red Road, I made a left turn at Kapoho where I was rejoined by my crew, ready with food and water.  I forced myself to eat and drink and just kept going, headed for a long stretch of highway up to Hilo, where I passed Marty Raymond and rejoined Shanna Armstrong, along with Dan Bodden, another member of the Canadian Military Mafia.  As we neared the Island's biggest town, we were forced to slow down, stopping at red lights as a light misty rain started to fall.  It was a welcome forced break, during which point I was able to recharge as we circled slowly around the beautiful Hilo coastline.

As we headed north out of Hilo, I was re-energized and picked up the pace, leaving Dan and Shanna behind as the course roughened with several rolling hills through a series of beautiful gorges and bridges across miles 701-100 before a 1500' gradual long ascent from Honokaa to Waimea.  This was another climb I underestimated from my pre-race scout, as it doesn't look like much from the car, but it was fairly challenging.  But avoiding the sugary foods began to pay dividends, and I was feeling far better than I did the previous day.  Hit mile 100 feeling fresh and ready for the 70 ahead.

I rode in no-man's land all the way into Waimea, with about 5-10 minutes on Shanna behind me, preparing mentally for the steep 5 mile windy ascent from Waimea through the Kohalas.  I began to hit the sugar -- Cytomax and gels -- as we came into town and very worried about missing the turn onto Route 250 for the climb, as I had missed it on my drive.  A perilous hazard because missing it leads you on a rapid descent you have to reclimb to get back on course.  I was so afraid of missing it that I thought I had overshot it as my crew drove ahead.  I freaked out and yelled at them that we missed the turn and had to do turn around.  I panicked, turned around and started heading back to Waimea, only to see Shanna ride by going the other direction!  I was the one who screwed up -- not my crew!  Holy crap.  I 180-ed around and tried to catch and follow Shanna, who clearly knew where she was going, losing at least 5 minutes in my lunatic mishap.  I apologized to my crew for my freak-out and tried to calm down and ready myself for the climb.

My only true challenge was some serious numbness in my left hand.  This is a normal occurrence for me (despite countless bike fits) so was not overly concerned.  Usually I can just shake it off and I'm fine.  But even after shaking it out, I found I had lost any ability in my fingers to exert force.  This meant that I became unable to use the left gear shift withe my left hand to shift in/out of the big chain ring.  I actually had to reach across my handlebars with my right hand to shift the front derailleur, creating a bit of an instability on the road.  Just one of those things....

Chris hit me with a Red Bull at the base of the Kohala climb and I paced the first half of the ascent, which reminded me of Stunt Road, my backyard training climb.  I just kept reminding myself, this is just like Stunt.  You've done this climb a million times.  You know what to do.  Relax.  And although my butt was starting to hurt from all the hours in the saddle, I felt great after 145 miles.  I caught Shanna early in the climb as the winds started to really blow.  As always, she was chatty and encouraging.  Just another fun day at the office for her, unfazed by anything, her stuffed animal monkey resting on her handlebars.  She warned me about the cross-winds on the descent (particularly with my deep rimmed wheels), then I decided to push on, laying down the hammer, powering the last 3 miles of the climb as hard as I could, knowing that when I crested, I was looking at a fast 20 mile descent to the finish line.  All I had to do was summit, and the day was over.  I felt so good, I thought maybe I should have rode a bit harder earlier in the day.  Whereas I took it out a bit too hard on the Day 1 ride, maybe I was too conservative today.  But no matter.  All alone, I peaked, welcomed by cheers from my crew and unreal views of rolling pastures, cattle and Kona coastline below.  It was a true high as I began the fastest descent of my life, battling heavy crosswinds that were blowing my bike (and my deep rim Zipp 404's) all over the road.  It was like the best roller coaster ride of my life, averaging close to 40 mph for the entire last 20 miles down into Hawi and across the finish line.

Again, and as I was riding basically alone almost the entire day, I had no idea where I stood in the rankings.  I was certain I had dropped considerably.  With so many strong riders over 170 miles, there was no way I was still holding on to a descent placing.  But I was amazed to discover I had only dropped 2 places to 9th overall -- top 10!  I truly could not believe it.

Haggard and throbbing, my back tight and my shoulders still burning from Day 1, my crew once again met my every need -- getting me my recovery food, stretching me out and getting me to our accomodations at Lew Whitney's nearby Kokolulu Farms retreat.

Overall - a great day.  My best ride ever.  And despite the 170 miles, a much easier day than Day 1.  And once again, the Island blessed us -- no flat tires.  No mechanicals.  No bonking.  No stomach problems.  No rain.  No crashes.  A perfect day.

Chris, LW and my dad unloaded my luggage for me at Kokolulu and then Chris & my dad headed back to Kona for the night.  I took a long shower, then Lew drove LW and me down the hill into Hawi for dinner at Bamboo -- one of the best restaurants on the Island.  We had a great meal, then LW and I walked back to the Farm, marvelling at the amazing stars in the sky -- it looked like you could reach out and touch the Milky Way.

In bed at 8:30, almost too tired to think about the Day 3 double marathon waiting for me in the morning.  As it was, my legs were toast.  Spent.  The idea of running at all, let alone 52.4 miles in the blazing heat of the Kona coast, was almost unthinkable.  So I didn't think about it.  I just went to bed.