On September 12 at 3:30 AM, I finished my first full distance triathlon. As I hobbled my way down Folly Rd towards the pier, Grace and her family jumped out with signs congratulating me on the crazy journey that started around 16 hours and 16 minutes (excluding some janky transition stuff and GPS not collecting data in gas stations) prior.
At this point I was a mixture of zombie, everything that smells bad on the planet, messed up body parts, and could not talk very well, but I still had one more thing to do. In fact, it was the entire reason for planning my solo iron after Chattanooga was canceled.
We walked up the pier, her family nearby, and I screamed out an audible fuck as I got on my knee and proposed. I’ll leave the sappier stuff for our personal announcements to friends and family, but it went something to the tune of every inch and every mile of the last 140.6 were for Grace. I’ve done some very mentally and physically demanding things in the past, but knew a task like this could never be about just crossing a finish line. It had to be about starting a new journey.
She had no idea it was coming, which made it even better.
Short Version
- Met up with Don to swim, everything went as expected.
- Didn’t put enough body glide on for friction points with the wetsuit and now I’ve got some really nasty welts.
- The bike was everything wrong.
- Temps spiked to 100 with humidity.
- Was unable to pull in enough fluids.
- Headwind picked up to about 7 MPH.
- Left leg totally seized due to cramping with 40 miles left and peddled the rest mostly with the right leg.
- Some sort of heat exhaustion kicked in or maybe crazy heartburn because my throat was on fire.
- Run became a very long and humid walk.
- Brooke started playing Eye of the Tiger and hyping me for the first mile.
- Jack and Silviya provided advil and a sidewalk shower, which was amazing.
- Hobbled into Folly. Finished the full iron. Proposed and she said yes.
The Swim – 2.4 Miles
The sun was crawling into the sky, I was running a bit late, and Don was already there gearing up to swim. Don gave me a bit of a pep talk and we jumped in. I think it was all of 30 seconds later for his to blast past me in the water, and I just fell into my cadence for the next two hours.
This was all pretty uneventful, which is great, considering there was a possibility of rain and thunderstorms to start the day.
I finally hit the 4000-yard mark, make it past the starting doc for the last 100 before looping back, and see Don there snapping some photos and cheering me on. That’s a wrap on 4,228 yards.
I honestly didn’t expect him to hang there, considering how slow I swim, but he put in some miles around Trophy Lakes and I could not be more appreciative of it. Quickly gathered my things and jumped into the car so I could gear up for the bike. The ride was only five or so minutes away, so I nixed that from the overall time.
The Bike From Hell – 112 Painful Miles
I dun goofed. One of the last things Don said to me before heading off to ride was to keep your mind on fueling properly. Well, I did not fuel properly. But, the weather just wasn’t playing nice, and everything hit me within a three-mile span, which meant everything went down from there. So let’s start at the beginning…
I get home, gear up, say bye to Grace and her fam, and off I go. The weather is playing nice, there is some sun coverage, it’s only 85ish… time to cruise. I knock out the first 30 miles without issue, sans angry drivers on one-lane roads. Then the rain hits. And then the sun bakes me. And we go on and off for the next 30 minutes until I get to the Fish Hatchery.
At this point, the wind went from a nice 2 MPH to about 7 MPH, but I was off to the last leg which has me end past the Charleston Tea Garden before looping back home to refuel. Somewhere down that stretch is when the wind, sun, and rain just started to eat at me, and that is the exact moment that a car honked at me and cruised up next to me.
The next thing I see is Grace with her phone out and everyone cheering me on. Talk about amazing timing!
I stopped for a second, stole her water because I was running low, and started my loop back. I think this was around mile 50, which meant 20 miles left to refuel. Before hitting the busiest road on Johns Island, it was time for a quick break on the bridge.
This is the same spot where a few weeks earlier some crazy ass kid jumped right off of it, even though the water looked like it was hardly waist deep. As I’m about to hop back on the bike, Grace pulls back around for one final cheer before the last 15 miles back. Everything is back on track, and then I hit the bridge over the stono.
There was a solid crosswind, drivers were getting aggressive, so I decided it was just best to walk up the bridge and cruise back down on the sidewalk. My bike does not like sidewalks, nor does my face, so there was a lot of regret in this choice. Fortunately, that regret went away quickly, because as soon as I started to cruise down the bridge, my left leg had the first signs of a cramp. And those signs hit hard. I quickly shifted to a lower gear so there wasn’t as much pressure, started rounding the final road towards my house, and…. FUCK.
The left leg had a mix of a charley horse and muscle spasms smack all at once, forcing me to coast until I was hardly moving. This, of course, was on a relatively busy one-lane road, which meant unhappy drivers behind me.
The pain went away for a minute, just enough to get me back to refuel and rest for a minute. I hit my leg with one of those pulverizing massage guns to try and loosen things up for a minute, refilled my water and tossed some Nuun in a bottle, and mentally died a little.
Everything in my mind was saying, hey, this isn’t a race, you can just quit right now and give it a whirl another time. This was true, I could, but I had a goal in mind, and half-assing it just didn’t feel right. It wouldn’t feel the same driving to the pier and proposing without putting in the work. So that was that. Back on the bike. It was another 10 miles of regular riding, and 30 of stinging pain.
Once I moved past Sol Legare, the leg cramps were back. The nagging idea of quitting was back, but I pushed forward, sort of. At this point my left leg was basically toast, so most of the pedaling was done with my right leg. If I even hinted at going into aero (which is part of the issue), my leg would shoot out straight and completely seize.
It was at this point that the sun was hitting in full force, with humidity pushing it to more than 100 degrees. Then out of nowhere, my chest felt like it caught on fire. It’s the same pain that was brewing in my chest during the 28-mile honor run I did earlier in the year, which was a very bad sign. If you recall, the pain got so intense that I couldn’t run for more than 20 second bursts, and I still had a full marathon to tackle.
Friends, I have officially entered the broken POS status.
Not knowing if this was GERD or whatever weird heartburn issues that keep flaring up, I popped into a gas station to grab some tums, jammed a handful into my mouth, a guy commented on my carbon Flo Wheels (they are in fact awesome), and made my way back home. The last 20 or so miles were a mix of pain, mental drag, and battling the ability to actually use my left leg.
It’s finally over. The 112 miles are behind me, and the goal of 18 MPH was completely in the trash in place of a slow 15 MPH. And then there was the sun. It was going down already, and I had 26.2 miles still ahead.
The Run – Or That Time I walked a Marathon
Rolling up to my house, I had never felt more defeated or like the mess that I was. I hobble back up, change out of my tri kit because everything was a chaffed mess (no, not my nipples, thanks), and grabbed Grace’s engagement ring. I start to hobble downstairs, and like the whirlwind of energy that she always is, Brooke and Savannah pop out of nowhere. There was a full room of people cheering me on and ready to send me off. I think there were some photos taken, but I was completely out of my mind and dehydrated, and they sent me on my way.
That is, I started my hobbling out of the house, and Brooke started to hype me up by playing Eye of the Tiger, Kesha, and some Macklemore. The girl was literally doing laps around me, and I think at one point may have accidentally smacked me in the head, but I was already zoning in or out, same difference, and made it about 1.5 miles before it was getting pretty dark. I let her in on the news that I was proposing when I finished, which is why my dumbass would walk the entire thing if I had to. I think that was around when the head smack may have occurred.
From here on, it was full-on zombie mode. I made a few more updates on Instagram and had some awesome folks throw positive words my way (huge thanks Don + Kathleen, Amanda, and of course Grace).
You got this. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other!
Don Oswalt
The first leg went honestly pretty quick, or as quick as a 15 MPH waddle could go. Before heading downtown I popped into a gas station (I had a mask) to grab my first giant cup of ice and munched on that until I found another before hitting the Ravenel bridge for the 10 mile marker. Without that ice, I’m pretty sure I would have been totally boned since my throat was basically on fire. The way I described it is this:
Yeah, super fun. Anyways, let’s just say my body was starting to give up at this point, but fortunately, none of those bike-related spasms were in the mix, just everything else. It was around mile 13 that Grace detoured me a road or two over towards Jack’s house, where there was word of water or beer. Yes please!
I stumble over to his street, and in the worst ninja hiding ever, saw two signs popping out from behind trees. I think I yelled something out like, I CAN SEE YO SIGNS. Except I also couldn’t really talk, so who knows. Grace and fam popped out cheering, I see Jack and Sylvia, and he pulls out a bottle of advil. Never has anything been as wonderful as that.
But then he whipped out this giant jug of water, which quickly trumped the advil. Took a quick sidewalk shower because my face was salted over, downed some advil, hopefully thanked everyone for the support, and started back towards my start point. This next leg was a breeze with the advil kicking and the mental boost, got back home, did a quick refuel, and started on the final 8 miles. At this point, I was having an out of body experience. My brain was gone, my body a mess, it was time to splurge.
I put in my earbuds and (I know, it’s a no-no in a race, but this was a hot mess and eat me) started listening to the new Metallica S&M2 album and eventually swapped over to Reply All. There were three or four miles left, and Grace and fam roll past me cheering. They were going to camp out at the finish. It was already 2:30 AM, way past everyone’s bedtime, but they were invested (they knew what I was set on doing). Cop cars kept flying past me, and I was just waiting for one to pull me over and ask why my crazy ass was walking down Folly road in the bike lane near 3 AM. Instead, they pulled over some drunk driver and left me be. Hopefully, the blinking light and headlamp were enough to indicate only partial craziness.
The end was nearly in sight, my mind was finally coming back to me, giving me enough time to rehearse what I was going to say when I proposed, and then Grace and fam popped back out to cheer me on. I tell Grace I need her to help me walk up the stairs of their pier (I probably did), where Kristy, Tyler, and her mom gave me a bit of room.
Not entirely sure what I said, someone recorded it, including the loud audible Fuck when I got on my now dead knee, but she quickly picked up on what I was doing and started to cry. And then I kissed her, she hugged me (oh yes, I smelt freaking terrible and was very slimy), and we were officially engaged at around 3:30 AM. We did a quick impromptu photo session with the fam, I rolled into the back of her car (no way was I able to sit down), managed to shower, and everything else is a blur.
Somehow we all ended up waking up around 9 AM, I got everyone breakfast and coffee, and mostly spaced out until there was some chicken and waffles involved and a brief visit with my parents after. Recovery wise, it took three or four days for the fire in my chest to finally subside, and now almost a week later, my body is feeling pretty normal. Looks like I’ll be getting on my bike Friday or Saturday to spin out my legs, and start to find a healthy casual training period until it’s time to rebuild for Ironman Chattanooga 2021. Yup, round two!
I would not have been able to finish this hot mess of a full iron without the support of Don, Jack, Sylvia, Kristy, Tyler, my Blue Sky peeps, and of course Grace. Thank you for listening to me whine as I continue to do this to myself.