2022 Tour de Cure

Back in March when I heard a new Cycling Team was forming in my community, I was eager to join. And when I heard they were forming a team to ride in the Tour de Cure, I was just as eager to sign up (after checking with my coach to ensure it fit our Ironman training plan of course).

It has been 5 years since the last time I did an event for a cause and it was good to get back to my roots. After all, this whole ongoing journey started out that way. 

When last I left you, I was coming off a poor performance at Ironman 70.3 Victoria. Since then, my training has been going very well. I ran the Vancouver Half Marathon on June 26th and posted my best half marathon time since before the pandemic. 

My cycling has progressed and I am now riding over 100 kilometers each week. And the 2022 Tour De Cure would be the culmination of my latest training build. 

I woke up early to start what would end up being a very long day. My bike and my gear were all ready and just needed to be loaded into the car. I picked up a fellow teammate and we drove the 1 hour to the race.. I mean event.. start.

All week I had felt nervous about the ride. I kept calling it a race and soon realized that calling it that, was adding extra pressure. It was a charity ride and it's supposed to be fun. Once I changed my way of thinking, the pressure was off.

Don't get me wrong. This would still be quite the challenge. 

My plan was simple, stop at every pit stop, average 25 kilometers per hour, have fun, and finish. 

I had my road bike set up with 1 bottle and several bags of my hydration/fuel mix. The pit stops were positioned every 25-30 kilometers on the course. If I refilled my bottle at each stop, it would average out to be one bottle per hour (per my current Ironman training fueling strategy). 

I opted for my 40mm race wheels despite there being some wind. I let vanity make that decision as my road bike looks oh so much better with deeper wheels.   

We arrived at Chilliwack Heritage Park and went inside to take advantage of the free food. We found our team captain and planned to meet back at 7:45 for a team photo.

After catching up with some old and dear friends from the 2015 event, we headed back to the car and finished our final prep. 

After out team photo, it was time to line up.

It was a great send off. We heard many sad/inspiring stories. We heard about the medical breakthroughs happening right here in BC due to the funding from this event. And we heard that we had raised over $6.3 million dollars this year for further research funding and patient outreach. 

I was getting flashbacks of all the Inspiration Dinner's from my Team in Training days (and all the same feelings). 

There was a very powerful ceremony where a bike with no rider was walked through the crowd. This bike was to represent all those who could not ride, are no longer with us, and/or those for whom we ride. 

After that moment of reverence, the energy of the MC and the room began to build, and soon... We were given the go signal. 

Heading out was slow as we all funneled through the main entrance. We made a right turn and rode through the parking lot and out onto the open road.  You can see us about 4 minutes in.

It was pretty packed until about 4k in, when the riders doing the 50k ride split off. Then it was just us select few going on to 100k or 160k. 

The weather was cool and partly cloudy. Ideal riding conditions. Our team stuck together in a good pace line as we rode through farmland, taking turns at the front. 

At 16k, I recognized that we were on the bike course for the Cultus Lake Triathlon. 

We hit our first Pit Stop at 25k. I refilled my bottle, used the washroom, and grabbed some crackers. 

Then we were off again. I must have misread the sign (or read the sign meant for the 100k course), but I was under the impression that the next Pit Stop was in 28 kilometers, putting us at 53k. 

I read the wrong sign

At 40k I was leading the group and we hit some hills. I soon realized that I had pulled away from our group quite a bit. At the top of one of the hills I pulled back and waited for the others to catch up. 

Once we regrouped around 44k, I noticed my chain was skipping. I changed gears and it stopped. At first it only seemed to be skipping at one spot, but soon it began to skip no matter what gear I was in.  

Our team captain was convinced it was the chain and asked me if I could make it to the next pit stop. I said yes, once again thinking next pit stop was at 53k.

The skipping kept getting worse and worse, and I was getting worried. I slowed down and tried to reduce my power to save (what we all thought was a bad chain). 

Around 54k, a truck passed me. It had a Tour De Cure Volunteer sign on it and I could see a bike stand and tools in the back. As I took a right turn, I saw the truck turning around ahead of me. As it passed I flagged it down and asked if they could help. 

2 amazing volunteers, Wade and Olivia, got of the truck, setup the bike stand, and began to take a look. They offered me a chair and water but I politely said no. After taking a good look at the bike, Wade found that the chain was in good shape, but one of the links (specifically the 11 speed connector link) was not articulating. So every time it went through the derailleur, it jumped and caused the chain to skip. Wade was able to successfully get the link to move again, but recommended I replace it once the day was over. 

I thanked them profusely and they thanked me for riding. Before leaving, Wade asked me who I was riding for and I told him (the quick version of) Abi's story.  

Back in the saddle, I made my way to the next Pit Stop. Good thing I flagged down Wade and Olivia when I did because soon there was a pretty good climb ahead of me. No way I could have done that with a skipping chain. 

At the top of the climb (at 58k not 53k) was the next Pit Stop. I met up with my team and told them what had happened. 

It was at this point that the team decided to split up and ride their own day. A few had been wanting to go faster and a few were falling behind. This way, we could all ride and not feel pressure to speed up or slow down. We would meet back up at the 79k Pit Stop (which we all thought was the lunch stop). 

I was going to head out with the faster group, but as we pulled out of the pit stop a line of cars came by and separated me from them.

I tried to catch back up, but the course was becoming hilly again. I pulled back so not to sabotage my day. 

I began to play leap-frog with another team. They would pass me up a hill then I would pass them on the flats. They would pass me up a hill, then I would pass them down the hill. 

We turned right onto 16th Avenue and things got a little dicey. Traffic was very busy and this was a popular trucking route. The bike lane was narrow, full of rocks, and the line doubled as a rumble strip. 

The wind was still a factor, but also still manageable. That is, until a semi truck passed and the combined wind and gust from the truck hit you. 

After 5k of the gauntlet that was 16th Ave, we turned right and the course calmed. 

After a long stretch of more hills, we made it to the Pit Stop at 79k, but it was not the lunch stop. I did my usual pit stop routine and chatted with my leap-frog buddies.  I overheard someone say that 105k was the longest he had ever ridden and at 110k (the real lunch stop) he would celebrate. 

I had read somewhere that lunch stopped at 2pm. With it being 12:45pm now, I was worried I would miss lunch. But one of the volunteers told me that as long as riders were out, lunch would continue to be served. This took any added pressure off. 

I rode on knowing that lunch was only 30k away. After some welcome downhills we made our way through a residential area. Something about this area looked familiar, but I could not figure out why. But then, I took a turn and saw why. I was at Fort Langley. I come here once a year as the MC for Try Events. It suddenly began to dawn on me just how far I had ridden. 

While riding a long, flat stretch along the Fraser River, I started to do the math to see how much further it was to lunch. Based on the math I did in my head at the time, it was 30 minutes to lunch. 

The course turned into some local farm land where I enjoyed a good (but fleeting tailwind). I stopped for a bit at 98k to let my grip rest, stretch my back, and eat a bar I picked up at the last aid station. I did some quick math in my head to see how far lunch was. 30 minutes? Again? What?

At 103k I was passed by another cyclist going very fast. As he past he encouraged me and he sounded like he was not breaking a sweat. I did more quick math to see when lunch was and it was going be... 30 minutes? Again? I stopped trying to do math in my head after that. 

Then, as we turned a corner into a wooded section, the road seemed to rise up (and keep rising).  This was The Hill.  I wanted to unclip and walk up, but I was already on a very steep section and could not unclip safely without falling over.  

It soon became very apparent that I had 2 choices: Ride up this hill and possible not finish the whole ride or walk up this hill and save energy to finish. 

While pondering my choices I looked up at the cyclist who past me earlier. He was off his bike and walking. It was almost as if I need his permission, but as soon as I saw that, I was able to unclip and start walking. 

Halfway up the hill, my calves started to ache. My cycling shoes where making me walk very awkwardly up this steep, long hill. So I decided to take off my shoes for the remainder of the hill. The pavement was just rough enough that every step felt like a mini foot massage. 

As I trudged up this hill, I began to think of all those for whom we were ridding. Here I was upset I was not strong enough to ride up this hill, but there are so many people in this world who give anything to be healthy enough to walk up this hill with me. I thought about Abi and how she would gladly walk up this hill 100 times if it mean one more day with us. 

Once at the top, I slowly and carefully put my shoes back on. I looked down the hill and saw one of my leap-frog groups. They were all walking. 

One rider, Peter (who I was playing leap frog with since 50k) rode with me for a bit. We chatted about training and how our day was going. We encouraged each other to just make it to lunch. At 108k, we hit a downhill and I knew I would take off. I wished Peter luck and took off. 

After a nice steady downhill, I reached 110k and lunch. 

I stopped and took my time. I was not hungry but knew I needed to eat. I almost had to force feed myself. I chatted with a few smaller groups and shared stories about The Hill. It was then that I learned there was yet another big hill, Mt. Sumas. 

As I started making my way back to my bike to refill my bottle, the rider from the last pit stop rolled in. I remembered he had said 105k was his official longest ride. I walked up, gave him a high five, and congratulated him on his NEW longest ride. 

I got back on my bike and was mentally ready to go. The course began to climb a bit and I pulled back my power. I had already been riding for so long and I (only) had 50k to go. I wanted to do this smart, especially if there was another hill to climb. 

The course had some rolling hills and some steep, punchy hills up until about 120k. Then it became long stretches of flat farmland with strong winds. There was a rider in front of me I knew I could pass, but decided to keep him in front to help with pacing.  

I began to talk to myself. Telling myself to grateful for all I had, not just my health for the ride, but everything I was fortunate to have in life. I offered up my suffering to those not as fortunate.

During my self talk, I realized I was using 'you' and switched to 'I.' I had read somewhere that using 'you' is like an outsider looking in while 'I' brings a level of ownership and conviction.  

At 130k, we hit the next Big Hill. I got off my bike, took off my shoes, and began to walk. Once a the top, I chatted with a course marshal while putting my shoes back on. I said something about being glad the last big hill was over. She gave me the most apologetic look as she explained that the hill I just walked up was not the Big Hill. 

After recovering from that mental blow, I rode on. The next 6 kilometers was a steady uphill. It was not steep, just very long. I was able to keep my pacing/power under control. At each turn I kept waiting for the road to rise up and for that last big hill to there. 

At 134k, I stopped at the last pit stop. It was a bit hidden behind a school, but I was glad I found it. After using the washroom and refilling my bottle, It was now all about finishing. 

As I returned to the steady climb, I saw my lunch buddies and told them where to find the last pit stop. 

I continued to climb and even hit some smaller descents. I kept waiting for that next big hill to come. 

Then at 136k, I turned right onto Sumas Mountain Road. Ok, this was it. At any moment that hill will be here. Get Ready! 

It was a fast descent with lots of blind turns. I took it very cautiously due to that and the car traffic on the road. With each blind corner I took, I expected that hill to be there. 

But then, as I rounded a corner, I could see through a break in the trees. I saw, not a hill, but flat farmland. Was that long steady climb the 'big hill' everyone was going on about? No more hills? Really? 

At the bottom of the hill, I stopped to give my grip a rest. I saw that I was right next to Highway 1. I knew excitedly where I was and how far I still needed to go. Just over 20 kilometers to go. If I paced it right I could be done in....  30 minutes.... Oh hell. There is was again. 

The last 20k was the longest 20k I have ever ridden. The first 6k was a long stretch along Highway 1. I decided to push a little harder for this since I had a nice tail wind. I assumed we would just follow this rode all the way back to Chilliwack Heritage Park, but at 147k we went over the highway and back into farmland.

As the course took several confusing turns in the local farm land, I kept thinking I could see Chilliwack Heritage Park, but each time it just ended up being a big red barn. 

But then, at 158k, I could see it! And for the first time all day, I KNEW exactly where I was and how far I had to go.  I got into my drops and pushed. 

I rode past the parking lot and got cheers from riders loading their bike into their cars. I navigated the maze that was the finish area through said parking lot. And was surprised when once of my teammates (the one I gave a ride to the event) was on her bike waiting for me, so she could ride in with me.

We rode past the building and then into it for the finish area. I put my arm up and was glad to be done. 

Once across, I broke down. The day was so long and so hard, how would I ever finish an Ironman!?

After I let myself calm down (and get a beer), I began to put thing into perspective. This course was super hilly, Ironman would not be. I did not have the option to rest my grip and back by using my aero bars, at Ironman I would. I was not tapered/well rested for this race. At Ironman I will be. 

As more and more cyclists finished, I was sure to get up and congratulate those with whom I had played leap frog with. We had only known each other a few hours, but the way we spoke, it was like we were lifelong friends.

After some more rest (and even more food) we headed home. 

If I do another ride like this in the future I will be sure to train more on my road bike and maybe put some aero bars on. 

It was good to get back to my roots of charity events and good to test myself with the longest distance I have ever ridden. I have alot to reflect on for Ironman and even more ride data to go over with my coach. 

I have a few more training blocks and an Ironman 70.3 before I tackle my first Ironman. Be on the look out for one more race report and some entries on training. 

2022 Ironman 70.3 Victoria

Before we get into my first Ironman 70.3 in almost 4 years, I'll fill you in on some smaller races I did as training runs. 

On April 10th, I ran the Steveston Icebreaker 8K and added a bit to the end to get the time I needed per my training plan. 

I walked the first 5 minutes with my wife and son, then treated the rest as a typical long run. At the start my pace was way too fast. I was worried about being last and listening to fast paced music. As soon as I turned off the music and passed a few people, my pace settled into what it needed to be. 

I met Jen and Thomas just before the finish line and we all crossed together. I then gave Jen my medal and race bib and continued on to finish my run for the day. 

On May 1, I ran the BMO Vancouver Marathon 8K, but this time I did my extra running before the race to make sure I got the full training time I needed. 

I got to the start about an hour early and ran a 6k loop before lining up for the 8k race. There were several delays in all the distances that day so everything was 45 minutes late. 

We were soon off, but do to the delay I had to urinate very badly. I stopped at the first aid station and got in line. Apparently many others were having the same issue.

Apologies for the watermark.
Not paying $40 for 2 photos. 

After a good 15 minutes, I was back on the course. I was making up good time and being in the back was a good moral boost as I was passing several people. 

I crossed the finish line and stuck around to watch the marathon winners cross the line. I then went out on the course to look for/cheer on a few teammates and friends. 



So with that out of the way, on to the main event!

First and foremost let's talk about race goals. The last Ironman 70.3 race I did was in July of 2019 and that was off of a good 3 years of nonstop training. I'll spare you the lack of training in 2020 because we all would like to forget that year. But aside from the obvious hurtles in 2020, that was also the year I became a father. Needless to say training from 2020-2021 was sporadic at best. I did manage to do some racing, but nothing serious. More of a 'I'm just happy to be racing," mentality, Serious training did not start up again until earlier this year. 

The main goal for this race was assessment. Where am I with my fitness? What adjustments to gear do I need to make? What adjustment to training do I need to make? What do I need to work on? Is my hydration/fueling strategy still working? 

While I did do this same race in 2018, I did not want to try and match the times. I had it in the back of my head that I could potentially do so, but I did not want that to be the main focus on the day. Let's just get out there, do what I am capable of on the day and go from there. There is still 6 months until Ironman Arizona. 

We arrived at Ironman Village early Saturday for race registration/package pickup in hopes to find a local selling parking spots. We lucked out and paid for a spot right across the street from transition. 

This was the first race I've done were we needed to travel and we decided it best not to have Thomas get up at 4am with me. So I made arrangements for me to get to the race early. Jen and Thomas would come later and have a close place to park. 

After checking in and receiving my race packet the 3 of us went for a walk. We made back in time for the athlete briefing. I listened to the information while Thomas played in the play area. 

I was going to go for a swim, but there was an announcement that an athlete travelling from Ontario with his family did not have his bike or wetsuit. The athlete and his family made it to the race, but some of his luggage did not. I offered up my spare for him to use and we headed back to the hotel.

We put Thomas down for his nap while I prepped my bike. I got the stickers on and loaded it onto the car to drop off at transition. 

When I arrived, I noticed the front break was not releasing. I took it to the event bike techs but they were so backed backed up they would not have it done in time for bike check-in. They told me to just not use my front break. Uh... No. 

Luckily, there was a local who had set up a tent outside Ironman Village who was doing bike repairs for a (relatively) small fee. After waiting my turn, he took a look and fixed it right up. At first we thought it was a cable housing issue, but it turned out to just be gunk in the break mech. I had mentioned that earlier this year my aero bottle sprung a leak and I wondered if it was back. If it was, it was a slow enough leak not to be an issue today. I thanked the gentleman profusely and took my (now safe to ride) bike and racked it in transition. 

After returning to the hotel and packing the rest of gear, we met some family for an early dinner. Then it was back to the hotel for an early bedtime. 

I woke up early the next morning and quietly got ready. I said goodbye to a sleepy family, grabbed my bags, and headed out. 

A friend and teammate was kind enough to let me borrow her car and I made my way to pick her up before heading to designated parking area.

We parked and joined the long line for the shuttle to the race area. There was a ton of traffic and we arrived at transition later than I would have liked, but it was all outside my control. 

I set up my transition area to the loud speaker's constant reminder that we have less than an hour until race start. 

I put my wetsuit on and walked down to the water just as another announcement sounded, "10 minutes to the end of swim warm up!" 

I was able to get in the water for about 8 minutes before they called us out to line up. Luckily the water was not too cold and a longer warm up wasn't crucial. 

I made my way to the 40-45 minute swim line and waited patiently for the race to start. As always, it was a slow march down to the water. But after about 40 minutes, it was time to get things started!

The Swim

I positioned myself to the far right, walked up the volunteer, waited for the beep, then made my way into the water. 

The water was cold, but a comfortable cold. The first few hundred meters were very crowded. I stayed calm knowing the herd would thin soon enough. 

The buoys were about 100m apart and numbered. As we swam out, the numbers went up. I kept a good rhythm, sighted, and kept a clean line. Soon we were at the turn. 

The turn got very crowded and lots of swimmers stopped afterwards to try and see where to go. I swam through, sighted more regularly, and found the next buoy. After dodging several breaststroke kicks, I was on my way to turn 2. 

The turn buoys were red and there was one yellow buoy between turn 1 and 2. The yellow buoy was off to the right a bit, so I made sure to sight the red turn 2 buoy. No need to add any unnecessary distance. The second turn went much like the first and soon we were on our  way back to shore. 

The swim back was more crowded as I began to catch up to other swimmers. The buoys counted down and I just kept swimming and watching the meters tick down. 

At 300m to go, I could start to make out the shore and swim exit. I stayed nice and relaxed as the shore got closer. 

I swam as far in as I could, passing people who stood too early, and popped up. I kept my goggles and cap on to ensure I had both hands free to start taking off the wetsuit. I unzipped and pulled the wetsuit down to my waist and we made our way up a very slippery incline into T1.

I found my spot using the landmarks I scouted the day before and pulled the wetsuit off. As I was getting ready for the bike, I heard Jen yelling. I looked up and saw her waving.  

I had been debating using arm warmers on the bike, but given the cloud cover opted to go for it. Soon I was heading to the mount line to start the bike. 

The Bike

As I made my way to the mount line I saw Jen and Thomas. Thomas was holding a sign, but I was so focused at the time, I missed half of what it said.

I started nice and easy but soon realized my power meter was not connected. I messed with my watch and got it connected up. 

Because the bike course is so technical, it is difficult to give a play-by play. So here is a general overview of the bike. 

I knew it was a hilly course, so I made sure to ride conservatively. I took it easy on the climbs and tried to make up for it on the downhills. I made sure to keep a good pace on the flats, but not hammer it. At times it was hard to pass due to narrow roads still open to traffic. 

There were several turns, rolling hills, and punchy climbs. The course took us through some gorgeous parts of Vancouver Island, through lush forests, farmland, and beautiful coastline. 

The weather was slightly overcast with some sun peaking through occasionally. It did get chilly between kilometer 40 and 65.

The wind picked up in the second half of the bike course. I was happy I chose my shallower wheel set, but still got blown around a bit on some big descents. 

At 50k into the ride, I needed to urinate. By 70k, I needed to go so bad that I was in pain. I was just about to jump off my bike and find a place on the side of the road (which I hate doing and I honestly don't know if it's allowed), when there was an aid station. I grabbed some water, refilled my aero bottle, jumped off the bike, and jumped into a porta-potty to have what could possible be the longest pee of my life (or at least it felt that way).

As I was getting ready to head back out on the bike I saw a man talking to a race official about wanting to call it a day. I felt bad for him as I rode off. 

I was glad I was feeling better because a few kilometers later was "the hill."  As you turned right onto Willis Point Road the sight of the hill was daunting, but as you got closer you realize that it's just long and not necessarily steep. 

I had a good climb. I kept my power, cadence, and heartrate under control. The whole ride up I could see half a dozen bald eagles riding a thermal above us. A good climb for us all. 

About halfway up, the road leveled off a bit and turned. I got hit by a big crosswind. This worried me for the ride down. I made a note of the location and told myself to keep it slow here for the descent. 

Soon I was at the top and turning around for a harrowing descent. Once again glad I picked my shallower wheelset, but wishing I had used the shallower front wheel I packed. I kept it controlled until I was past the flatter, wind tunnel section, then I let loose. 

After "the hill" were several smaller, but steeper, hills. I knew I was close to the end and had a half marathon to run, so these too were taken very easy. 

Soon, in a flurry of flower pedals in the wind, I was turning left and heading back transition. 

I stopped just before the dismount line and checked my time. I was not happy about it, but there was not much I could do. I just told myself to have a good run and not fixate. 

I made my way to the rack and saw someone else's bike was in my spot. I gently moved it over and racked my bike. As I was getting ready for the run I could hear Jen. She asked how it went and I answered, "Uh, not good." Other around me chuckled in agreement. 

As I ran out of transition, I saw Jen and Thomas (who was enjoying a nice nap). 

The Run

After merging into oncoming, heavy traffic I made my way onto the run course. I made sure to stay out of the way of those finishing and join those heading out for their second lap. I even saw a few friends as they whipped past me. Thankfully everyone who passed me was very encouraging. 

I was feeling pretty gassed at this point and being constantly passed by second lappers did not help. I was feeling some discomfort in my left knee and a hot spot in my left foot. Luckily both were short lived. 

As the first lap went on, I soon started to pick up speed. I stuck to my 10-1 run-walk and my fueling/hydration plan. I made to sure grab extra water at every aid station, where the volunteers were amazing. They were very supportive and upbeat. Every single volunteer looked like this was the best place to be on a Sunday. 

I was soon at the small out-and-back and found myself walking up the hill. I made it to the turn around, stepped over the split timing mat, and thought of all those tracking me. 

After the out-and-back was a smaller, punchier hill which I once again walked.  The course then winded through a nice wooded section with patches of sunlight. 

As we came closer to transition, the course began to narrow a bit. I made sure to make room for those faster runners nearing then end of their day. The course opened up and there was a clear view of the lake and the finish/lap area. 

I was soon running past the swim start area. It seemed so long ago that we were all here waiting patiently for our day to start. 

Soon Jen and Thomas where there cheering me on with a new sign. I waved at Thomas, got a laugh and some babbling that sounded like "What are you doing?" and I ran onto lap 2. 

I stopped at the aid station at the start of lap 2 to refill my bottle and add more electrolyte mix. Back out on the course it was much quieter. It seemed as if I suddenly had the whole course to myself. Just me running alone with my thoughts, which at this point were still pretty optimistic. 

However that did not last long as I soon began to slow. As I slowed, I put too much pressure on myself. I thought I could make up the time I lost on the bike on the run. But I took a step back and began to be more reasonable. I was not going to make up 30 minutes on the run. The run needs to be what it is. My goal for this race was not to better my 2018 time, it was to learn. If I happened to beat or match my 2018 time, that was just a bonus, but never the main goal. Do what you can do on the day. I focused on that and let go of any pressure associated with time.

I was once again at the out-and-back and made it to the timing split mat. In my head I imagined everyone tracking me getting an alert and saying "Oh good! He's not dead!"

At the 17k mark, I made a deal with myself, walk the uphills and run everything else. Do this until the finish. Well that only lasted up to the 19k mark. 

I saw the man from the bike course who was thinking off pulling out of the race. He was still in it! I told him I saw him at the aid station on the bike and was happy to see he stuck with it. He informed me he was having back issues and was in alot of pain. Suddenly my issues seemed small in comparison. Whenever I was feeling low, I thought of the strength this man had to muscle through. 

At 20k, I started to list (possible out loud) all the factors that could have lead to a less than stellar day. I also began to list of things to change (or at the things I could change) moving forward. And last but not least, I began to list all I had accomplished. I had nothing to be ashamed of. 

I was soon back at the open area along the lake. I spotted the photographer and thought, "I better make it look like I was running." I began to run and ended up keeping that up until the finish.

As I came down the small incline and into the finish chute, I saw Jen and Thomas cheering. My friend who let me borrow her car had stuck around and gave me a much needed high-five as I approached the finish. 

I ran down the chute, crossed the finish line, and it was done.

I saw a few other finishers to whom I had chatted with on lap 2 and gave them all congratulatory fist bumps. None of us could speak through our sheer exhaustion, but the looks on our faces said it all, "We F#$%ng did it!"

I was spent. I took my time, drank lots of water, and looked for food. Turns out they ran out of pizza. Luckily more came later and Jen was kind enough to get me a piece while I gathered my things from transition. 

My second wetsuit was there with a nice note from the gentleman who borrowed it. I was glad I was able to help so he could race today. And I hoped he had a better day than me. 

On the car and ferry ride home, my left knee began to throb. It was almost unbearable. I iced it as soon as I got home. At the time of writing this it has mostly healed up, but I don't want to feel that again.

Someone asked me how I felt about the race. I told them I was disappointed but needed time to reflect on factors leading up to and on the day. While I know I am capable of better, this was what I had on the day, and I gave it all.

Now in reflection and in keeping with my race goals, here are a few key things I learned from this race and a few things that I will adjust in my training.

Factors leading up to the race:

-This was my first 70.3 since July of 2019

-Pandemic

-New father

-No steady year plus training 

-My family had a stomach bug earlier in the week so I was unable to eat properly for 3 days leading up to the race. I honestly think this was THE biggest factor that hindered my performance. 

-This was the first time travelling with Thomas to a race and we did not get alot of sleep. 

While the majority of the aforementioned factors were outside my control, I did not dwell too much on them. But here is a list of thing I can control and can continue to work on:

-Check my bike early for mechanical issues.

-Get all pre-race prepping done by noon the day before.

-Better my hydration plan on the bike. In training, I measure out my mix so each bottle represents 1 hour of time on the bike. I have an alert in my watch that tells me to drink every 10 minutes and every hour it alerts me that I should have finished a bottle. During the race, I had 1 bottle with 3 hours worth of mix in a concreated form. My plan was to grab water from the aid stations, refill my aero bottle, and mix in some concentrate. The problem with constantly adding to my aero bottle was I had no way to gauge if I was getting a full bottle per hour. I am working on a plan that will allow me to better gauge my fueling on the bike and will implement it in the next round of training. 

-Continue to lose weight. I mentioned before that I hired a nutritionist who is helping me with my weight lose goals. While I have lost 15lbs since January, I still have a ways to go. Being lighter on the bike and run will definitely help. 

-Keep up my training momentum. As I stated before, since earlier this year I have been gathering some really good momentum in my training. I will continue to work with my coach and build off where we are now. I can only get better from here. Adding more hill training will help as well. 

-Bank enough sleep earlier in the week in case Thomas does not sleep. 

-I want to check to my bike fit to make sure the issues I felt in my knee can be corrected. 

-Replace my leaky aero bottle to avoid locking up my front break.

-Find a tri suit with easier access for urinating.

-Urinate in T1 and T2 whether I think I need to or not. 

-On a hilly course use a different front wheel. The confidence I gain on the descents will outweigh any aero gains I may lose. 

Even though this was not my best performance (in actuality it is my worst 70.3 times to date) I did better my swim by almost 5 minutes. I will take it!

Thank you for taking the time to read this entry. I know there was some negative aspects to it, but I remain positive that the rest of this year will be great! Nothing lights a fire under you like a bad race day! 

Up next, Scotiabank Half Marathon, June 26.