Dear Friends, Family and South Enders,
Many of you have asked how my first Ironman triathlon went. For those of you who are interested, below is a write-up of my experience of the Sunday May 31st Ironman Brazil in Florianopolis, including the most challenging moments.
On Thursday the 28th I flew from Sao Paulo where my parents live, arrived in Floripa at 12:30PM, picked up the car at the airport located at central-south of Florianopolis Island and drove to the North of the Island where the event would be held. My cousin and only local cheerleader (besides you all from Terra Americanis), Daniel Mendonsa, beer drinker and cigarette smoker, was already waiting for me at the airport…with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in another. I felt I was arriving at the South End for happy hour.
The bike arrived fine, no worries at all. The bike case was a nice investment besides the $50 I had to pay to have it checked on my flight to Florianopolis from Sao Paulo. Luckily I did not have to pay the $350 fee on United (round trip) from the USA since I am a regional airline pilot and fly under the United system for United Express. (One of the very few perks for regional pilots.) By the way if you ever need to borrow a bike box, please let me know: (415) 412-0665.
The drive to the North of the Island, about 45 KM, was on the same road the bike leg would be on. It was great exposure to the course for me. My cousin and I went to the Hotel Costa dos Ingleses, located at Ingleses Beach, Northwest of the Island, about a 30-minute drive from Ironman City, located at Jurere International, on the Northeast side of the Island. After I checked in at the hotel, we went to Ironman City to register and get to know the details of the race.
Arriving there, a few miles away from the site, I could “smell” the triathlon environment. People from all over the world going and coming from the Ironman site, people riding their weightless bikes with those teardrop helmets, all composite wheels and skinny as Kenyans runners. It made my 35-pound weight loss feel just a detail. I was mesmerized…It had been such a long time since I had done an event like this that I felt totally out of my airspace.
Many of you have asked how my first Ironman triathlon went. For those of you who are interested, below is a write-up of my experience of the Sunday May 31st Ironman Brazil in Florianopolis, including the most challenging moments.
On Thursday the 28th I flew from Sao Paulo where my parents live, arrived in Floripa at 12:30PM, picked up the car at the airport located at central-south of Florianopolis Island and drove to the North of the Island where the event would be held. My cousin and only local cheerleader (besides you all from Terra Americanis), Daniel Mendonsa, beer drinker and cigarette smoker, was already waiting for me at the airport…with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in another. I felt I was arriving at the South End for happy hour.
The bike arrived fine, no worries at all. The bike case was a nice investment besides the $50 I had to pay to have it checked on my flight to Florianopolis from Sao Paulo. Luckily I did not have to pay the $350 fee on United (round trip) from the USA since I am a regional airline pilot and fly under the United system for United Express. (One of the very few perks for regional pilots.) By the way if you ever need to borrow a bike box, please let me know: (415) 412-0665.
The drive to the North of the Island, about 45 KM, was on the same road the bike leg would be on. It was great exposure to the course for me. My cousin and I went to the Hotel Costa dos Ingleses, located at Ingleses Beach, Northwest of the Island, about a 30-minute drive from Ironman City, located at Jurere International, on the Northeast side of the Island. After I checked in at the hotel, we went to Ironman City to register and get to know the details of the race.
Arriving there, a few miles away from the site, I could “smell” the triathlon environment. People from all over the world going and coming from the Ironman site, people riding their weightless bikes with those teardrop helmets, all composite wheels and skinny as Kenyans runners. It made my 35-pound weight loss feel just a detail. I was mesmerized…It had been such a long time since I had done an event like this that I felt totally out of my airspace.
Anyway, the dream was coming true, I was about to register for my first Ironman. The registration process was fantastic, the staff really gives you an individual detailed rundown of the event. Then they make you sign a whole bunch of paperwork, tag you with a blue band and give you a magnetic ankle chip for the race. I even joked with the girl who tagged my wrist that maybe she should tag my big toe instead in case I had to be identified at the morgue.
Then we went to supermarket. I shopped for food, my cousin shopped for beer, chips and cigarettes. What a great influence.
On Friday the 29th, I went for a swim at the hotel pool, had breakfast and drove again to Ironman City to attend the Regulation Briefing and after that walked around the Ironman Expo. If you imagine triathlon gear is expensive in USA, double the price if you are in Brazil. WOW! Very expensive gear. Went back to the hotel, put the bike together, went for a short ride, and went for a second swim, this time at the hotel waterfront, 70 degree water. I was in heaven. Had dinner with my cousin and finally went to bed at 1AM.
On Saturday morning, the 30th, I woke up at 6:30AM when my cousin arrived from his night of bar hopping, singing loudly, tipsily drunk. GREAT!! What an influence! I went for a swim, ate breakfast, then for a short bike ride since it was raining really hard, windy and cold. Did some race food shopping, went back to the hotel, and prepared my 3 race bags for the swim, bike and run. Did the last tuneup on the bike and drove to Ironman City for bike and gear check-in.
Once again, jaw dropping, state of the art organization and logistics. You are escorted from the minute you arrive at the bike check until you leave the area. The staff double-checks your helmet, your bike, your running shoes, bib number, bike shoes, brake pads, aero bars and wetsuit. Wait. Wet what?? When the guy asked me about my wetsuit and I said I didn’t have one, you should’ve seen his face. He asked me: Are you crazy? Do you know how cold that water is? It is 70F! You will be the only one without a wetsuit… And I said: “Nobody told me anything about wetsuits.” And enjoyed his reaction, knowing you South Enders would have too.
Went back to the hotel and finished prepping my race food and special needs bags: one to be handed to me at the 56-mile mark on the bike, and the other to be handed to me at the halfway mark of the run. By 11PM I was finished preparing and ready to go to bed, but had to force myself to sleep. I set five alarms and ordered the front desk staff to open my room door and wake me up if I didn’t answer the front desk wakeup call at 4AM. My cousin went out again. This time I took the car keys so at least he’d be on foot. I hoped he’d make it back not too late, and not the morning after the race.
SUNDAY, MAY 31st, IRONMAN DAY
I woke up at 2AM, just couldn’t sleep anymore, afraid I would sleep in. At 2:30AM my cousin arrived from his night of shenanigans and was glad to see me awake. He told me he was prepared to pound me in the head in case I slept in. He looked at me all serious and asked: Are going to warm up or not? Like he was my coach. Did my famous ‘triple S’ (Sh*t, Shower, Shave) and at 3:00AM I went to the hotel gym, did 40 minutes of yoga, 20 minutes stretching and went for a 30 minute swim warm up at the hotel swimming pool. WOW, look at me, I was feeling like a real athlete. Like a soon to be Ironman. By 4AM I was ready, even with my swim cap on trying to keep my body temperature warm. At 4:30AM we left the hotel and went to Ironman City for body painting and getting ready for race start.
6:30 a.m.
Started walking towards the race start; flip flops, swim suit, t-shirt and a South End Golden Gate Swim towel wrapped around my near naked body. I confess I felt a little awkward, everybody in wetsuits and me just bare bones. I felt like a polar bear surrounded by penguins (couldn’t get the March of the Penguins movie out of my head). I managed to position myself behind the Elite group, on the right side of the start, straight line to the first buoy, flanked by the crowd, and giving me room for my own swim. I felt ready. The ocean was not calm, big surf going on.
7:00 a.m.
Lights, Camera, Action, and Cannon Blast: the race was on!
In a frantic run everybody gunned towards the surf and instantly I started jumping under it trying to dodge the waves and after a few jumps, I started swimming trying to keep away from the crowd. But there were people everywhere, and they were swimming like they were going for the 50-meter freestyle world record. Whether I wanted to swim fast or not, I was being pushed to because the inertia going on was huge. Arms, elbows, knees, feet, faces, heads, hands, butts, people losing their goggles; floating caps…I felt I was swimming back from Normandy on D-Day with the Germans on my tail. What the hell did I get myself into? As well I could, I calmed my mind and eventually found my groove and rhythm by the time I reached the first buoy.
The current and wind were so strong that the second buoy drifted 400 meters away, adding quite some length to the first leg of the M-shaped swim course. After the second buoy, we swam towards the beach to finish the first leg of the M.
The third leg was uneventful. I relaxed and even had time to stop, pee, set my course and catch a lot of people. The fourth leg was great; I increased my speed and felt I was having a good swim and a good time. I arrived at the funnel in 1:05. (I learned later I was the 260th swimmer out of the water of 1,400). I felt good, in shape, ready to ride and felt my heart rate was controlled. I was all smiles.
Run Forest Run
Ran to the transition area, changed in the tent, and at 1:09 of the race I was on my bike going for a long ride.
The only bad thing about the bike transition was that I got my socks wet and had to ride with soaked feet the entire bike leg. I could feel blisters forming under my toes. I wish I had put my socks and my bike shoes on AFTER the transition area. Oh well, lived and learned.
As I rode, I was thinking about how I could have done better in the swim. I would have needed to do a lot more interval trainings and attended more of the Masters Program at the St. Ignatius pool. I think I could have shaved 5 minutes off the swim easily. Anyway. That is history now. But a good note for next time.
Let’s Bike Eddie
It really took me a while to find my groove on the bike. I guess that is why the triathlon book I read said to train for transitions. Too late now, my heart was racing but my leg muscles were not. I knew I was ready for the 112-mile ride, but I wasn’t mentally ready to compete with the other racers, who were flying past me in droves. I had trained to finish the bike in 6:30 on flat terrain, having spent many a 7-hour ride on the track at the Polo Fields in Golden Gate Park, and I knew I could handle hills because I did the San Francisco-Bolinas round-trip ride on Highway 1 at least a dozen times. But it was still a major frustration to see everybody passing me like hundreds of Lance Armstrongs. I fought to center myself and focus on only one thing: 18MPH speed, my average speed during my Polo Fields experiments.
There was a lot of wind and a lot of rain, but I did not feel cold. Air temperature was somewhere between 70F to 74F. Eventually it was a great ride. I fed very well on Endurox R4 and my concoction of baby food, GU, honey, green tea, electrolytes, and salt capsules. The combo really worked. No back pain (proper bike fit played a big role), no tendon pain, no split chin, no diarrhea, no gas, no vomiting, no nothing. My many feeding experiments (some with disastrous results) really paid off and I was very glad for that.
Final bike time: 6:40.
THE MARATHON: 26.2 MILES (42.2 KILOMETERS)
At 7:49 into the race, I started my run. I was very happy with my time so far. Even if I dragged out a 5-hour marathon, I would finish with 12:49, a finish time that would have made me very proud, and faster than I trained for. And so I went for it.
BUT…BUT, at just the 3 KM point, the world came to an end. I stopped running. I was completely drained. I made myself walk but kept hearing in my head “I can’t do this.” My mind was freaking out. How could I run 40 more kilometers? Where would I find the energy? More Endurox? More baby food? Oranges, bananas, Pepsi, cake, crackers, GU? I could not shove all that aid station food down my throat fast enough, trying to find a solution for my weak state of mind. Sh*t! I was losing the race - mentally. It was definitely the low point of the race.
And then I started doing the math. If I walked 4KM an hour for the next 9 hours, I still had a chance to finish under the 17-hour cutoff time. I could get that Ironman medal, the t-shirt, the towel, and bragging rights of a lifetime. But more importantly, I could do what I came here to do. I could get off on the right foot in this important first training step leading to my 2010 solo English Channel swim.
And there I went, intermittently walking and jogging, nearly crawling uphill and running downhill, all the way to the 15th KM, still debating whether I was going to finish in time.
Then I got the wakeup call of the race: as I jogged down the steepest hill of the run, tired and worried about my time, I saw a triathlete in a wheelchair coming in the opposite direction on the two-way course, conquering that uphill battle inch by inch. Every spectator and every racer was cheering him on, and he was smiling. He was smiling! That brought tears to my eyes. What an inspiration! How sh*tty it was for me to dare not finish that Ironman in a reasonable time. I felt so little and so ashamed that I wished I could have gone back to the start to run those first 15 kilometers all over again.
After that I was motivated. I finally made the 22 KM mark (just over the half-way point). Going into the next 10 KM lap was very hard because although I was finally warming up, I was still really fatigued. Throughout that second lap, I started thinking about the English Channel swim in 2010 and how I would need to apply all these hard Ironman moments into that crossing. Was I just going to give up and ask my pilot Reg Brickell to pull me? Was I going to give up my dream of crossing the channel to my weak state of mind? Or would I find strength within and proceed towards France?
These thoughts occupied my mind for a long time. And then, finally, I let them go. Instead I asked my inner gods for help. At last I started enjoying the beautiful evening. For the first time since I started the run, I smelled the fresh, rain cleaned air and the ocean, felt the breeze, took in the lush green beauty of my home country. As I ran I watched one of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen. Finally I started absorbing the energy from the fantastic nature surrounding me. I started enjoying that marathon and feeling much better, even a little recovered. I was getting mentally strong again, and ready to finish in less than 14 hours -- a big step considering not long before that I was trying to figure how I would even finish.
KM 32, 10KM TO GO
So, finally, the last 10 KM arrived. It was my best lap. I regretted all the time I spent fighting my mind. But ultimately it was a great lesson and I think it made me a stronger person, a stronger athlete. I saw how much I had learned about myself and about the Ironman. I had a *new* understanding now why a significant percentage of racers don’t finish. I really had a whole new respect for Ironmen and Ironwomen.
During the last 3 KM, I got a second wind and ran the entire stretch. It felt great!
As I got close to the finish, I could hear the crowd cheering and the Master of Ceremony announcing the athletes as they crossed the finish line. My heart started beating stronger and stronger; there were people all over the last 2 KM shouting GO EDISON (they could read my name on my bib) -- I was almost done! Even triathletes who had already finished the race joined me for the last strides, wow what a support.
I was crying!
There at the funnel entrance was my cousin Daniel waiting for me, screaming like crazy, calling me by my family nickname. Go DUNE, GO DUNE, GO DUNE! He ran with me to the finish line. He was crying too! (And not a beer or cigarette in sight!)
At 13:51 I was done!!! Wow what an experience! I couldn’t stop smiling.
I did it.
POST IRONMAN
I really would like to go back one day and do another one. Or better yet, many of them. What an inspiration to see all those athletes so well trained and focused. It really showed me levels of dedication I have seen only rarely (the others being some of the great athletes at the South End). Although I knew this going in, I learned first hand how huge a difference there is between training just to finish the race and training to time well enough to get a slot in the World Championship Ironman in Kona.
Someday…somehow.
First things first: English Channel here we come.
THANKS, I COULDN’T DO IT WITHOUT YOU
I would like to say many thanks to those of you who shared your previous Ironman experiences with me – JP, Michelle Deasy, Katrina . It really helped a lot.
Thanks to my and our beloved KIM HOWARD, who put up with my crazy flying and training schedule. Oh boy, I was pretty much gone the entire time I was home. Thanks for your understanding and tolerance.
Thanks to Diane Davis for the great advice and for making St. Ignatius my private swimming pool.
Thanks to all the great world class athletes at the South End who inspired me just by doing what you love: swim, row, run, playing handball.
Thanks to Miller, one of my best friends from Brazil who challenged me to do this Ironman before my Channel Swim.
Thanks to my cousin Daniel, who many times screamed from the crowd: Nada filho da puta…swim, run, bike you son of b****!
A huge and special thanks to my parents who gave me all their support and love and who sponsored a big part of this dream. I am who I am because of you.
And thanks to my inner gods for listening and giving me the strength I needed when I needed it.
Love,
IRONJELLYEDDIE
Then we went to supermarket. I shopped for food, my cousin shopped for beer, chips and cigarettes. What a great influence.
On Friday the 29th, I went for a swim at the hotel pool, had breakfast and drove again to Ironman City to attend the Regulation Briefing and after that walked around the Ironman Expo. If you imagine triathlon gear is expensive in USA, double the price if you are in Brazil. WOW! Very expensive gear. Went back to the hotel, put the bike together, went for a short ride, and went for a second swim, this time at the hotel waterfront, 70 degree water. I was in heaven. Had dinner with my cousin and finally went to bed at 1AM.
On Saturday morning, the 30th, I woke up at 6:30AM when my cousin arrived from his night of bar hopping, singing loudly, tipsily drunk. GREAT!! What an influence! I went for a swim, ate breakfast, then for a short bike ride since it was raining really hard, windy and cold. Did some race food shopping, went back to the hotel, and prepared my 3 race bags for the swim, bike and run. Did the last tuneup on the bike and drove to Ironman City for bike and gear check-in.
Once again, jaw dropping, state of the art organization and logistics. You are escorted from the minute you arrive at the bike check until you leave the area. The staff double-checks your helmet, your bike, your running shoes, bib number, bike shoes, brake pads, aero bars and wetsuit. Wait. Wet what?? When the guy asked me about my wetsuit and I said I didn’t have one, you should’ve seen his face. He asked me: Are you crazy? Do you know how cold that water is? It is 70F! You will be the only one without a wetsuit… And I said: “Nobody told me anything about wetsuits.” And enjoyed his reaction, knowing you South Enders would have too.
Went back to the hotel and finished prepping my race food and special needs bags: one to be handed to me at the 56-mile mark on the bike, and the other to be handed to me at the halfway mark of the run. By 11PM I was finished preparing and ready to go to bed, but had to force myself to sleep. I set five alarms and ordered the front desk staff to open my room door and wake me up if I didn’t answer the front desk wakeup call at 4AM. My cousin went out again. This time I took the car keys so at least he’d be on foot. I hoped he’d make it back not too late, and not the morning after the race.
SUNDAY, MAY 31st, IRONMAN DAY
I woke up at 2AM, just couldn’t sleep anymore, afraid I would sleep in. At 2:30AM my cousin arrived from his night of shenanigans and was glad to see me awake. He told me he was prepared to pound me in the head in case I slept in. He looked at me all serious and asked: Are going to warm up or not? Like he was my coach. Did my famous ‘triple S’ (Sh*t, Shower, Shave) and at 3:00AM I went to the hotel gym, did 40 minutes of yoga, 20 minutes stretching and went for a 30 minute swim warm up at the hotel swimming pool. WOW, look at me, I was feeling like a real athlete. Like a soon to be Ironman. By 4AM I was ready, even with my swim cap on trying to keep my body temperature warm. At 4:30AM we left the hotel and went to Ironman City for body painting and getting ready for race start.
6:30 a.m.
Started walking towards the race start; flip flops, swim suit, t-shirt and a South End Golden Gate Swim towel wrapped around my near naked body. I confess I felt a little awkward, everybody in wetsuits and me just bare bones. I felt like a polar bear surrounded by penguins (couldn’t get the March of the Penguins movie out of my head). I managed to position myself behind the Elite group, on the right side of the start, straight line to the first buoy, flanked by the crowd, and giving me room for my own swim. I felt ready. The ocean was not calm, big surf going on.
7:00 a.m.
Lights, Camera, Action, and Cannon Blast: the race was on!
In a frantic run everybody gunned towards the surf and instantly I started jumping under it trying to dodge the waves and after a few jumps, I started swimming trying to keep away from the crowd. But there were people everywhere, and they were swimming like they were going for the 50-meter freestyle world record. Whether I wanted to swim fast or not, I was being pushed to because the inertia going on was huge. Arms, elbows, knees, feet, faces, heads, hands, butts, people losing their goggles; floating caps…I felt I was swimming back from Normandy on D-Day with the Germans on my tail. What the hell did I get myself into? As well I could, I calmed my mind and eventually found my groove and rhythm by the time I reached the first buoy.
The current and wind were so strong that the second buoy drifted 400 meters away, adding quite some length to the first leg of the M-shaped swim course. After the second buoy, we swam towards the beach to finish the first leg of the M.
The third leg was uneventful. I relaxed and even had time to stop, pee, set my course and catch a lot of people. The fourth leg was great; I increased my speed and felt I was having a good swim and a good time. I arrived at the funnel in 1:05. (I learned later I was the 260th swimmer out of the water of 1,400). I felt good, in shape, ready to ride and felt my heart rate was controlled. I was all smiles.
Run Forest Run
Ran to the transition area, changed in the tent, and at 1:09 of the race I was on my bike going for a long ride.
The only bad thing about the bike transition was that I got my socks wet and had to ride with soaked feet the entire bike leg. I could feel blisters forming under my toes. I wish I had put my socks and my bike shoes on AFTER the transition area. Oh well, lived and learned.
As I rode, I was thinking about how I could have done better in the swim. I would have needed to do a lot more interval trainings and attended more of the Masters Program at the St. Ignatius pool. I think I could have shaved 5 minutes off the swim easily. Anyway. That is history now. But a good note for next time.
Let’s Bike Eddie
It really took me a while to find my groove on the bike. I guess that is why the triathlon book I read said to train for transitions. Too late now, my heart was racing but my leg muscles were not. I knew I was ready for the 112-mile ride, but I wasn’t mentally ready to compete with the other racers, who were flying past me in droves. I had trained to finish the bike in 6:30 on flat terrain, having spent many a 7-hour ride on the track at the Polo Fields in Golden Gate Park, and I knew I could handle hills because I did the San Francisco-Bolinas round-trip ride on Highway 1 at least a dozen times. But it was still a major frustration to see everybody passing me like hundreds of Lance Armstrongs. I fought to center myself and focus on only one thing: 18MPH speed, my average speed during my Polo Fields experiments.
There was a lot of wind and a lot of rain, but I did not feel cold. Air temperature was somewhere between 70F to 74F. Eventually it was a great ride. I fed very well on Endurox R4 and my concoction of baby food, GU, honey, green tea, electrolytes, and salt capsules. The combo really worked. No back pain (proper bike fit played a big role), no tendon pain, no split chin, no diarrhea, no gas, no vomiting, no nothing. My many feeding experiments (some with disastrous results) really paid off and I was very glad for that.
Final bike time: 6:40.
THE MARATHON: 26.2 MILES (42.2 KILOMETERS)
At 7:49 into the race, I started my run. I was very happy with my time so far. Even if I dragged out a 5-hour marathon, I would finish with 12:49, a finish time that would have made me very proud, and faster than I trained for. And so I went for it.
BUT…BUT, at just the 3 KM point, the world came to an end. I stopped running. I was completely drained. I made myself walk but kept hearing in my head “I can’t do this.” My mind was freaking out. How could I run 40 more kilometers? Where would I find the energy? More Endurox? More baby food? Oranges, bananas, Pepsi, cake, crackers, GU? I could not shove all that aid station food down my throat fast enough, trying to find a solution for my weak state of mind. Sh*t! I was losing the race - mentally. It was definitely the low point of the race.
And then I started doing the math. If I walked 4KM an hour for the next 9 hours, I still had a chance to finish under the 17-hour cutoff time. I could get that Ironman medal, the t-shirt, the towel, and bragging rights of a lifetime. But more importantly, I could do what I came here to do. I could get off on the right foot in this important first training step leading to my 2010 solo English Channel swim.
And there I went, intermittently walking and jogging, nearly crawling uphill and running downhill, all the way to the 15th KM, still debating whether I was going to finish in time.
Then I got the wakeup call of the race: as I jogged down the steepest hill of the run, tired and worried about my time, I saw a triathlete in a wheelchair coming in the opposite direction on the two-way course, conquering that uphill battle inch by inch. Every spectator and every racer was cheering him on, and he was smiling. He was smiling! That brought tears to my eyes. What an inspiration! How sh*tty it was for me to dare not finish that Ironman in a reasonable time. I felt so little and so ashamed that I wished I could have gone back to the start to run those first 15 kilometers all over again.
After that I was motivated. I finally made the 22 KM mark (just over the half-way point). Going into the next 10 KM lap was very hard because although I was finally warming up, I was still really fatigued. Throughout that second lap, I started thinking about the English Channel swim in 2010 and how I would need to apply all these hard Ironman moments into that crossing. Was I just going to give up and ask my pilot Reg Brickell to pull me? Was I going to give up my dream of crossing the channel to my weak state of mind? Or would I find strength within and proceed towards France?
These thoughts occupied my mind for a long time. And then, finally, I let them go. Instead I asked my inner gods for help. At last I started enjoying the beautiful evening. For the first time since I started the run, I smelled the fresh, rain cleaned air and the ocean, felt the breeze, took in the lush green beauty of my home country. As I ran I watched one of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen. Finally I started absorbing the energy from the fantastic nature surrounding me. I started enjoying that marathon and feeling much better, even a little recovered. I was getting mentally strong again, and ready to finish in less than 14 hours -- a big step considering not long before that I was trying to figure how I would even finish.
KM 32, 10KM TO GO
So, finally, the last 10 KM arrived. It was my best lap. I regretted all the time I spent fighting my mind. But ultimately it was a great lesson and I think it made me a stronger person, a stronger athlete. I saw how much I had learned about myself and about the Ironman. I had a *new* understanding now why a significant percentage of racers don’t finish. I really had a whole new respect for Ironmen and Ironwomen.
During the last 3 KM, I got a second wind and ran the entire stretch. It felt great!
As I got close to the finish, I could hear the crowd cheering and the Master of Ceremony announcing the athletes as they crossed the finish line. My heart started beating stronger and stronger; there were people all over the last 2 KM shouting GO EDISON (they could read my name on my bib) -- I was almost done! Even triathletes who had already finished the race joined me for the last strides, wow what a support.
I was crying!
There at the funnel entrance was my cousin Daniel waiting for me, screaming like crazy, calling me by my family nickname. Go DUNE, GO DUNE, GO DUNE! He ran with me to the finish line. He was crying too! (And not a beer or cigarette in sight!)
At 13:51 I was done!!! Wow what an experience! I couldn’t stop smiling.
I did it.
POST IRONMAN
I really would like to go back one day and do another one. Or better yet, many of them. What an inspiration to see all those athletes so well trained and focused. It really showed me levels of dedication I have seen only rarely (the others being some of the great athletes at the South End). Although I knew this going in, I learned first hand how huge a difference there is between training just to finish the race and training to time well enough to get a slot in the World Championship Ironman in Kona.
Someday…somehow.
First things first: English Channel here we come.
THANKS, I COULDN’T DO IT WITHOUT YOU
I would like to say many thanks to those of you who shared your previous Ironman experiences with me – JP, Michelle Deasy, Katrina . It really helped a lot.
Thanks to my and our beloved KIM HOWARD, who put up with my crazy flying and training schedule. Oh boy, I was pretty much gone the entire time I was home. Thanks for your understanding and tolerance.
Thanks to Diane Davis for the great advice and for making St. Ignatius my private swimming pool.
Thanks to all the great world class athletes at the South End who inspired me just by doing what you love: swim, row, run, playing handball.
Thanks to Miller, one of my best friends from Brazil who challenged me to do this Ironman before my Channel Swim.
Thanks to my cousin Daniel, who many times screamed from the crowd: Nada filho da puta…swim, run, bike you son of b****!
A huge and special thanks to my parents who gave me all their support and love and who sponsored a big part of this dream. I am who I am because of you.
And thanks to my inner gods for listening and giving me the strength I needed when I needed it.
Love,
IRONJELLYEDDIE
valew...dun..tamu junto...!!miler
ReplyDeleteDescribed me perfectly, what your woman friends will think about it ?!
ReplyDeleteThis year I´ll do the Ironman !! And when I finish it, you will can look at the sky and see cows flying, and looping in the sky too !!!!!!
You son of a bi*** keep swimming !!!
See you here !! With a cold beer !! lol
Bjo !
Daniel Mendonça.