I’m back in LA, greeted with rain showers, cool temps and dark clouds. Normally I would hate this but after a month on B.I. (“Big Island”), its a welcome novelty.
Its Monday and I feel like I’ve been thrown under a bus with all the backlogged legal work that lay dormant the last 2 weeks while I was in Hawaii. Not to mention responding to all the amazing e-mails I received from all sorts of people — both friends and people I have never met — who took the time to follow along on the Ultraman journey. I promise to get back to all of you in due time!
What a trip.
To kick things off, I was pleasantly surprised by this nice piece in VegNews Magazine today, which explains why my Twitter following suddenly spiked again today! Click HERE to go to the article.
And now to the recap. I won’t bore you with the boring blow by blow. Rather I hope to simply capture the essence of the experience. Ok maybe that’s a lie. Some blow by blow. Hopefully not too much.
The first thing I need to say is that I had the honor of sharing this race experience with my little brother from another mother Jason Lester. We lived together. Trained together. Ate together. Breathed together. Made videos and laughed together. We shared highs and lows. Our pains and struggles. Fears and plans for the future. Of course, we raced together. But most importantly we inspired each other. To have my man right there was a very special experience. Even he doesn’t know how much he has helped me. I will never forget the amazing month we spent together. I love you Jason and I could never have done what I did without you in my life.
OK, the race. I promise.
My wife Julie, our kids and crew help Nicole and Alan only arrived in Kona the afternoon before the race. Literally only hours before the start! This made for a very tense evening, given that my own crew — inexperienced would be an understatement — missed the only pre-race briefing in which the race directors review everything the crew needs to know, every turn, every pothole, every rule. i cannot imagine how much information the crew must absorb in order to just perform adequatelty. Until you’ve done it, its hard to describe just how tough this job is. This left me responsible for making sure they had all the info they needed to help me. All in a VERY short period of time.
We started our own pre-race briefing around 4pm, laying out the basics. I had a map of the Island completely outlined as well as a notebook primer with every turn, every nutritional potion and every conceivable pitfall and cure written out in excruciating detail. How many calories per hour. CarboPro vs. Perpetum vs. Nuun vs. H2O intake. Multiple labeled bins separating out race nutrition from spare parts to extra clothes. Remember, everything you need for 3 days has to go in the van. Not only that, you need to know exactly where everything is at a moment’s notice. We had to go through everything so swiftly while tired heads trying to focus nodded — “wW got it. Don’t worry.” But I was hardly convinced. To me, it was increasingly clear that this was going to be a total crap shoot. Unlike any other triathlon, I can only be as good as my crew. They are the athlete just as much as me. And if they fail, I fail. End of story. I was trusting those I love the most with a full year of my preparation for this race. I was very worried that I would blow a gasket over some transgression (things never go as planned) and damage my marriage or alienate my boys. This was a very real fear. I never doubted their total commitment to the cause, but there was only so much briefing I could do to prepare them for just how intense this experience would be. Unless you’ve done it, you just simply have no idea how difficult it is to crew this race. And nobody other than me even knew the difference between Ali’i Drive and the Queen K (inside joke). Just ask Julie – now she knows. Big time. But that afternoon? I was a rubber band on the verge of snapping.
Despite knowing they were only about 1/2 prepped, I had to call it a day. What will be will be. The work is done and I had to try to sleep. And Day 1 there is only one turn, so at least I knew they couldn’t get too lost. I hit the sack, but of course, there was no sleep to be had. I tossed and turned, waking before my 4:30 alarm. Awake, I took in as much nutrition as I could. Almond butter toast, a Vita-Mix with veggies, fruit, chia and maca. Compton’s Ascended Health brew. I was stuffed. I really didn’t want to eat but with 8 hard hours ahead I had to get in as much as I could.
My team came by my condo, we loaded the van and headed down to the swim start, buzzing with silent but violent nervous energy. Even though there are only 37 competitors, it was still quite chaotic at the Kailua pier. The gate was locked. The bathroom was locked, leaving me scurrying to the nearby hotel. It was all such a rush as Mike Field prepped the canoe, I got my wetsuit on and got in the water to warm up in the dark. The last few minutes went by in seconds, as total fear overcame my entire body. If I can just avoid a seizure….
All week people had been talking about how strong the swim field would be this year — 3-4 guys all capable of taking the swim. Fast guys everywhere you look. I deflected, certain to let everyone know that I was not focused on the swim this year. Not a lie. I only swam 2-3 times per week over the season and lost alot of pool time due to my 2 crashes. I was completely focused on improving my cycling and running. As a result, I lost a copious amount of upper body mass and strength (I’m about 12 pounds lighter than I was in 2008), leaving my swim as a complete unknown. I knew I could swim long, but my power per stroke wasn’t what it was in 2008 when I took 2nd in the swim. I honestly had no idea how the swim would go for me. Usually I am confident about this segment. But on this day I was a wreck. And of course as much as I shrugged off my chances on the swim, the truth was I wanted to win it. Badly. And yet I found myself second guessing my prep — I should have swum more….I’m too skinny….What was I thinking….
I lined up next to the one sure bet on the swim, Jamie Patrick. A former collegiate swimmer and previous Ultraman competitor, we share coach Chris Hauth. So I knew he would be strong on the swim. We shared some words of mutual support and Jamie let me know that he would be taking it very easy — its a long day, baby. No need to do anything crazy.
The gun went off and Jamie took off! So much for taking it easy! I got on his feet, but he was quickly pulling away. I lifted my head and noticed 3 or 4 other swimmers all gunning. But I didn’t alter my plan. Steady and easy. Remember — this is not about a swim victory. This is about optimizing a 3 day performance. 24 hours of racing ahead. Like Hauth always says, victory to the last guy to slow down. There is absolutely nothing fast about this race. Its all about managing your energy. If I get 3rd or 4th in the swim, that’s fine. My plan was to bust out on the bike.
But after about 1500 meters, the others fell back. I swam side by side with Jamie for a while, but then miraculously he began to fall back. I didn’t surge. I just held steady. The plan was starting to work.
By this time, my super star paddlers Mike Field and Ed Dougherty were by my side and expertly guiding me to the most favorable currents. They had studied the tides, the moon, the maps and their trusty Navigator and knew EXACTLY where to put me. Inside. Inside. Inside. As the others drifted out, they were always pulling me towards the shore where the currents were working in my favor. Soon my lead was a true gap, growing kilometer by kilometer. A safe wide lead. So I just buried my head and focused on the weighted ribbon we draped from the rear of the canoe – a device to focus my mind like a metronomic mantra. A means to avoid having to lift my head and gain my bearings. A moving meditation.
At about the 1/2 mark, two obstacles began to develop. First, I began getting stung by jellyfish. Nothing too severe but enough to distract me. Then the gut began to revolt. Uh oh. Too much breakfast. With all the ocean jostling, the food began to come up. At first it was just a minor barf here and there. I continued to take in water and Perpetum. It would settle, then happen again. I must have thrown up 15 times. And with about a mile to go, Mauna Kea. I rolled on my back and erupted. Two gigantic upchucks, brown fluid streaming, staining the pristine aqua bay. Mike and Ed became concerned. I thought this could be it. If I can’t get this under control immediately, I am in big trouble. But after the “cleansing” I was fine. I rolled back over and powered it home, running up the shore at Keahou Bay in 2:21. The 6th fastest swim split in Ultraman history. A full twenty minutes faster than last year on a fraction of the swim training. A 10 minute lead on next in Jamie Patrick. How do I explain this? Mike Field and Ed Dougherty. They deserve the credit. And I guess cross training does have its benefits. Aerobically I was fine. And I think my arms were just too skinny to get tired. No muscle, no lactic fatigue.
Last year I fumbled the transition, but this year I was very focused on not unnecessarily blowing my lead by being a bumbling idiot getting on to my bike. I blazed it and was off. My best transition ever.
I didn’t see another competitor all day. But that doesn’t mean it was easy. The first 30 minutes are straight climbing. First a very steep 500 foot / 2 mile climb up Kam III to Route 11, then another 1000 feet or so up through the town of Captain Cook. I had trained this climb many times with Jason in the previous weeks, so I knew just what to expect and how hard to push. Too hard and you blow up, leaving you with dead legs and 85 miles to go. Not hard enough and you blow a lead and likely exert almost as much energy. But training that climb gave me the perfect sense of how to approach it. After that its rolling hills for miles and miles. Dodging traffic, eating and drinking, keeping the pace high and steady. Generally my HR will get up around 145 when I push VERY HARD. But today my HR was between 157 – 167 all day. I had never sustained such a high HR for such a long period of time. I feared I would hit the wall, but despite doing everything I could to bring it down and under control, it was racing. C’est la vie. Go with what you got. Keep going….Dodging cars, blasting potholes, avoiding that cliff just to my right that never seemed to go away.
As I rounded the southern tip of the Island, I was faced with the fiercest head winds I had ever experienced. I was almost blown off my bike a couple times; on other occasions the wind almost stopped me in my tracks. When I’m in this position, I tend to think I am the only one dealing with this problem. The other riders know how to cut the wind. Its only a matter of minutes before they destroy me. I kept looking back for Ribeiro, Kotland, La Roue… Where are those guys? Nobody knew. My crew kept me motivated and fed, but even they had no idea where I stood. How far back the next guy was. I yelled to them: “What’s the gap?!” But they thought I was asking for the map. Oh well. Just head down and focus. Hammer.
After a ridiculously fast and windy descent, I faced the toughest challenge of the day. A 27 mile 4500 foot climb with an average grade of 3.5% up to Volcano National Park. It doesn’t look like much from the car. Its not super steep. But it is unrelenting. Unforgiving. It never gives you a break, intent on breaking your back. And if that’s not hard enough, the headwinds were blowing like a tempest. Right in my face. Nothing to do but soldier through. Again, craning my neck, sure to see the predatory LaRoue, Ribeiro and Kotland nipping at my heels any minute.
The photographer cars starting pulling up to me, but each one had a different story about where I stood — 2 minutes ahead of Ribeiro. No wait, La Roue. No 2 miles, not 2 minutes. All the stories conflicted, exacerbating my fear and propelling me forward with abandon.
Then there it was. A speck of a rider behind me, gaining swift ground. Damn. I could have been a contender. He inched closer with every pedal stroke until finally he was right on my heel. I’m done. So much for Day 1 glory. But wait a minute. This dude isn’t even in the race! He’s just some guy out riding! He pulls up next to me and wants to chat. What the hell is going on? Turns out he just began a ride a couple miles back. he starts peppering me with questions about the race. Dude — I’m in a race right now! I’m leading! No offense, but I’m not in the mood for a friendly chat at the moment! And you need to either pull ahead or fall back because I don’t want the officials to think I’m drafting! Meanwhile, my crew is deflating, not realizing this guy is not part of Ultraman.
The dude rides up and pulls over to chat up my crew, parked on the shoulder. They think – what is this guy doing? He’s just going to let Rich take him like that? He’s just gonna roll over and let Rich win? Literally minutes elapsed before they got the drift.
And back to business. I felt like I just dodged this huge bullet. Meanwhile I’m only riding about 8-14mph max on this damn hill with these crazy winds. 10 miles to go….8…5…A two minute lead? That’s nothing to a guy like Ribeiro. And I knew it. I redoubled, determined not to let happen what happened last year when I was literally passed by 3 guys (Josef Ajram, Miro Kregar and Peter Kotland) in the last mile of the day. Peter actually passed me with literally 100 meters to go last year. Not…gonna…..let…that….happen.
I called in my Spirit Guides for help. I called in the Kahunas, Whales and Dolphins. I called in Ganesh, the remover of obstacles. I called in Grandma Chandra and Chief Golden Eagle. Even Paramhansa Yogananda and Nithyananda. Every guru and highly evolved being I could think of. I called in God and the God within. There is nobody that I didn’t call. Its out there. Big time. Yeah, I know. But I needed all the help I could get and I wasn’t going to be sheepish about asking.
And the message — Please. Please let me win this today. Not for me (OK a little for me, I admit) but for everyone out there that has supported me. For all those that are following my journey. For all the people that took the time to e-mail me, relating their struggles with health, weight and fitness. For all those that cast shadows of aspersion and doubt on the viability of a plant based diet for athletic performance. Let me have this. For them. And I PROMISE I will do everything in my power to use the victory to inspire positive change in others. Anything and everything I have. Anytime. All the time.
I know what you’re thinking. Don’t make deals like that. But I couldn’t help it. Plus I was really really tired.
Just then race photographer Rick Kent pulled up next to me in his racy red convertible and told me I had the day locked if I just maintained. And yet I couldn’t let myself believe that. I had to stay focused, boosted by Rick’s cheering and comment that he had just been on the phone with our mutual friend and my Plant Strong guru Rip Esselstyn, author of THE ENGINE 2 DIET. He told Rip I was going to win the day. Rip was thrilled, which gave me chills and just the pump and focus I needed to get the job done.
I crested the last hill, and made the final turn to the finish chute. is this really happening? I’m actually going to win Day 1! This is the 25th Anniversary of this amazing race. The field is completely stacked. And I’m the guy who is going to be in the proverbial Maillou Jaune? Impossible. I crossed the line as my crew van followed.
Victory. Sweeter than I could have ever imagined.
I dropped my helmet and bike as my 14 year old stepson Tyler ran into my arms, more thrilled to my stunned self. Tyler worked his butt off taking care of me all day and it was truly a lifetime moment to cherish him in my arms, knowing this experience has changed him forever. Julie jumped in and joined the scrum. Then Alan, dubbed Chief Running Elk for his ferocious running bottle handoffs all day, grouped in. We cried, we laughed, we kissed, we hugged. Just one of those rare moments in life you want to last forever. The ones you will never forget. Ever.
A full ten minute lead on the entire field, I maintained the gap I built on the swim all day. Unreal.
I have done many things in my athletic life, including participating on 2 NCAA Division I Championship winning swim teams at Stanford in the 80’s. But I always seemed to be the also ran. Close, but never quite the champion. In truth, I was pretty much a bench warmer at Stanford. Yes, I have won many swimming races. But nothing huge. Good, but never GREAT. Just decent. A lot of second and third places in my life when it really counted. Somehow, I was never top dog. So I had never experienced an athletic victory like this. Simply put, it was the single greatest achievement of my athletic life. And I’m 43 years old.
I’m proud that I won the swim. I am more proud that I had the 3rd fastest bike leg that day. But I am most proud of my wife Julie and my boy Tyler for fearlessly taking head on the challenge of getting me there and carrying me all day for this win. My strength is nothing without theirs.
As long as I live, I will never forget this day.
But Day 2 would hold a different story…….And I will be reminded of the promise I made…The responsibility I agreed to shoulder in exchange for this sweetness….And it would come in a most unexpected form.
Until then….
