My story starts in 1999 or so, when friends defined me by a set of icons: a wine glass, a steak knife and a cigar. My life back then was all about consumption and work. Ironman was something I had seen on TV and was fascinated by but could never conceive of doing nothing more. I could never conceive of doing anything like that. Then my life reached a stress point personally and professional. This manifested itself into an idea to do a marathon. I hired a trainer who convinced me that a triathlon was a good way to cross train. My first major race was a ½ Ironman in FL – The Great Floridian. I waddled across that finish line in just over 7 ½ hours. It was amazing and I was hooked.

Over the next few years, my life began to change from only work and consumption to a more balanced equation. I lost a fair amount of weight (90 lbs.), changed my diet becoming a vegetarian and changed my life style. In the process I meet some amazing people – Triathletes and other athletes. The community is so amazing and supportive. They helped motivate me to do three or four tri’s a year, mostly sprints and Olympic distances. Deep in the back of my mind Ironman, was still a fantasy. In my early races, I set mini goals including breaking 3 hours in an Olympic and running a sub 4 hour marathon. These all seemed to be leading somewhere. That somewhere was Ironman. I now realize it has been in my heart for many years representing a personal evolution and manifestation of an attitude that anything is possible -- a belief in myself.

Six months ago the stars aligned and I made the commitment to train and race Ironman Brazil. This was big for me because I am very committed to my job which requires lots of travel. But I was willing to put all else on hold. My Saturday brunch buddies were not happy, but they were supportive. I went out and hired a coach – Ken Glah. My quest began in the beginning of this past winter. My logic was timing and race early in the season to save my summer. What was I thinking? Smart?

I was pretty pumped that I was finally embarking on my Ironman journey so I went at it with enthusiasm. I worked hard through the cold winter and was encouraged by my progress. As Ken laid out my weekly schedules I could feel my endurance and strength building. I had to make adjustments along the way for the unexpected, work events and friends. It was important for me to keep things in perspective, as there is a difference between obsessions and sacrifice for a goal. I would celebrate holidays, birthdays, and major events like everyone else. On regular school nights I would for sake drinking, staying out late and limit desserts. I love sweets.

My training built nicely over the six months. It was mostly focused on endurance – training my body to handle the volume of the Ironman. I did lots of rides to Bear Mountain in the freezing cold. It might build character but man it can cold! But it was all leading somewhere. People around me were supportive although some non-tri friends thought I was nuts, saying “Why would you want to do that to yourself?” and “I don’t drive that far in my car.”

As the months went on and the race drew closer I got distracted with work and being apart of TANYC – Triathlon Association of New York City. But my training was still top of mind, so I worked out early and late. Finding pools and spin classes on the road. I worried that the quality of my road workouts hurt me or if I missed one, I was going to be set back. I realized I could only do the best I could, an attitude that probably helped me recover better. My body was not used to the training volume so it was nature’s or Murphy’s way of keeping me healthy and injury free.

With only a few weeks left to the race, I began my taper. I was feeling good. I had done a Ralph’s Half Ironman about 8 weeks prior and did well. I made great progress and was excited about IM Brazil. But then Murphy came along. I got sick. I burned my hand. I got food poisoning, three flat tires, work bubbled up, and panic! When it rains, it pours. I started to panic: it was all happening when I should be calm, putting the finishing touches on my training, and I couldn’t do anything. I was missing key workouts. The quality was going down. I started to feel like it wasn’t meant to be.

Then something happened: one great workout and with it, new hope. I had a swim session with my coach Boris and felt great - strong and lean. It put it into perspective that Ironman is lots of little pieces, not one big thing. You will have ups and downs. Some things will go better than others. It’s about the journey and staying the on course.

With a little hope and plane ticket, I was off to Brazil. I thought the race was so far away, but now I was on my way. Oh my God, did I pack everything? Was I ready? Where is my bike? Whew, I checked it, sorry just a quick little panic attack.

Upon landing in Brazil, which was so beautiful, I was greeted by the Endurance Travel folks. They loaded our luggage and we were off to our hotels. With a few days to get settled, I put my bike together and went for a little spin. Things were going smoothly, the weather was perfect, and the people were great.

The butterflies started to build as I entered the race expo to get my registration. People were coming from 30+ countries and the race was reaching new participant levels of 1000+. As I started to meet my fellow racers, the excitement grew. I meet people from all over the world, from places like Chile, St.Louis, and Canada, to name a few. They were all great and very serious racers. I felt like such a novice. I guess not many first timer travel to another continent for their first race. Being around them I felt like such a “Klump,” but they were all very nice and supportive.

By now I just wanted to get on with it. I wanted everyone to stop talking about it. Let’s do it! I thought. At the pre-race pasta party, they asked all participants to stand, and then asked all first timers to sit. A small number did. Then they asked second timers to sit, and then third timers. There were still a lot of people standing. This went on for awhile. Four timers, five, …, ten, eleven, …, fifteen, sixteen, … twenty, twenty-two, and finally at twenty-three the final participant sat down. It was crazy! The place was rocking with screaming people, cheering for the veterans. It was a little intimating but very cool.

Race morning, finally! I got up pretty early and it seemed like the hotel was empty. Over 50% of the racers were already at the start. Was it really only 4:30 AM? What was I missing? I was ready, and so I just had my breakfast and went through as normal a routine as possible. I made my way to expo and was getting the butterflies again. I took care of my special needs bags, and access to my bike. The volunteers were great. The whole set up went great. Everything was easy. The sun was starting to come up and it was going to be a perfect day.

It now all started to happen so quickly. I have been waiting so long and boom! The gun went off and the chaos started. I hung back a little to watch, but I couldn’t hold back anymore. I’m in and off. The sun is coming up and water is choppy but I feel pretty good. Just keeping thinking long and smooth, I tell myself. Finish your stoke. Where are the buoys? Who keeps moving them? The current is tougher than I am use too. Finally I get closer to the turn around buoy and head back to shore to complete the first lap. I get out of the water to reenter for my second lap, I peek at my watch. It can’t be right. That was slow. Oh well, get going, I think. I reenter and am now a little pissed off. The water is getting choppier and the buoys seem farther and farther. But as I approach the turn I am feeling pretty good. The sun is up and I am excited to get my confidence back. I approach the swim finish and can hear the crowds cheering. Thank God I am not last. I was worried about that. I get out and look at my time and I am little disappointed but I am on dry land. I head to T1 and the volunteers are great. They rip off my wet suit. I have my bike bag in hand. I scramble out of the change area and I am off. The crowds are great but I am pretty focused to get going and make up some swim time.

So I am cruising along feeling pretty good on my projected pace when, here comes, Murphy… I go to shift and snap! My derailer breaks and I am stuck in the small chain ring. Oh my God! Not now! Okay, don’t panic, I tell myself. I keep going and I start to look for help. There’s no one around, and I am only 40 miles in. What am I going to do? After three or four miles, I finally find a bike support crew to help. Trying to explain in Portuguese that my derailer is broken is tough it seemed like hours. We agree that I will meet the bike guy at the half way point, I can’t stand still anymore. So I am off again, having wasting 20 minutes on the road translating. The bike guy and I connect and we discuss my dilemma. We decide the dereailer would be too long to fix so I continue on in the small chain. Now pissed off, I throw all my energy into the bike and start trying to pick people off who passed me on the road. I ride the rest of the course pretty hard, trying to make up time or keep up. In away it was good that the mishap distracted me and gave me something to focus on. I don’t know if it hurt me in my run but it was what it was. I took 20 minutes off the second lap by sheer will. I made my way into T2 with lots of energy. The crowds really help push you.

Moving through the run course, my main thought was to always keep moving. I started to break it up into pieces. I can run a 10K. The course was marked in kilometers so I just went with it. These little victories really helped, as did my running buddy. Then came the hills, I have to admit I was scared. The course contained two large hills that had pain written all over them. So I walked a little and waddled a little. Going out was tough but the thought of coming back was worse. Getting over the hills was a great victory as I was near my hotel and saw lots of the local town people cheering which was great and very encouraging. The crowds were awesome: kids would run along and help push and keep me going.

As I approached the last few miles, I was now breaking it down into 5K’s and getting closer. I just had to get over those brutal hills and I knew I could finish. Going up them was actually easier than going down. It was scary. I wasn’t sure if my legs would hold me, not too mention the pain. But my legs held and I made it down. Now I was only a couple of miles from the finish. I could sense it.

As I approached the finish, the emotions started to come. I can’t believe it, there it is, the finish line. The crowd cheering and no pain. The last 400 meters seemed like I was running on air. The whole race happened so quickly. Such a blur. So many things I would do differently but actually not. My first Ironman is under my belt. What an experience! I am so thankful to my supporters, the crowds, the volunteers. They all contributed to my experience.

As I recovered in the medical tent with a couple of IV’s, it slowly started to sink in. I did it! My icons have now changed. It seems I have transcended my old life to a new one: a healthy, self confident and worthy one. I am still not sure if my friends/family can really understand the magnitude of this for me.

This story was a personal journey for me. I know that triathlon means different things to different people but in some way we are one. I hope my story give you courage and some perspective to push you on. Along the way, many people did it for me. Thanks.

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