This was to be my seventh IronMan.  The Great Floridian, contested in and around Clermont, FL, was also my first, in 2003.  I had trained pretty well for the race, and in fact was feeling like I was at an all time fitness high perhaps, then Hurricanes Gustav and Ike came along.  That was 3 straight weeks of too-long work hours with just a small amount of training.  Once we finished getting the lights back on, I was able get in about 2 quality weeks, then a two week taper.  So going into the race, I felt fairly well trained, and pretty confident, but there was some anxiety about the whole thing.

It's an eleven and a half hour drive to Clermont, just 20 miles west of Orlando.  We left at 5:00 Thursday morning and made it in time for packet pickup that afternoon at the race site, which was when we first began to pick up on the fact that this was most definitely NOT an M-Dot race.  The huge crowds and long lines were nowhere to be seen.  We walked into the small registration area, and within 5 minutes we had signed the waivers, gotten our wristbands, been weighed, and picked up our packets.  Nice.  It was weird - with the 5 or 6 volunteers and maybe one other racer in the room, it was like a ghost town.  At that point, we had the sad sense that "this race is dying".  It was good to be done so quickly, but the vibe was sort of depressing.   Next stop, the pasta dinner.  I usually like to avoid this, but we decided to check it out.  Drive a few blocks to the church - this can't be right, there are hardly any cars here.  Uh, turns out that it is right, it's about the same scene as packet pickup.  We're in a gymnasium with two or three servers and not much else.  Another ghost town.  It picked up a little by the time we left, maybe 25 people eating, but still, it was odd, when you are used to 1,000 or more nervous athletes at such a feed.  You add to it the fact that it's now dark, and a light rain is falling and the sun has not been seen once on our drive over, and I am having the beginning of some second thoughts about the whole adventure.

Friday we played it smart - after a solid 9 hours of good rest, we got a couple of quality meals in early, and stayed off our feet almost the whole day.  Keith went for a 15 minute run; I did nothing.  We stayed at a condo built in 1972 (Vacation Villas), where we had two bedrooms, two baths, full kitchen, etc. for the ridiculously low rate of $80/night. The place was a bit worn, but spotlessly clean and quiet.

Race morning: Up at about 4:00, two big bowls of oatmeal, a bagel with cream cheese and some iced coffee and I feel pretty damn good.  We parked at the same place I did in 2003 - about a 5 minute walk to transition, not bad at all.  Pump up the tires, handle a couple of last minute Code Browns, change into the wetsuit, and it's looking good.  It's quite warm out, maybe 70, with a 30% chance of rain in the forecast, and projected cloud cover all day.  I would prefer bright sunshine, but if it's gonna rain at least it'll be warm.  We had a cold rain all day at IM Wisconsin 2006, really not up to a repeat of that.

Shortly before the swim start, Lawson Fall sought me out, and told me to relax, and that I'd be fine in the water, which was a very thoughtful thing for him to say and it meant a lot to me.  What he doesn't know is that my swimming incompetence does not come from nerves or being uptight, just real bad technique.

The national anthem is sung, we gather up on the beach, and off we go.  A mass start of only 300 or so is nothing compared to the 2400 you will get at IronMan Florida.  I got settled in pretty quick and began doing my thing, alternating the crawl and breaststroke.  About ten minutes in, I stopped to help a girl who was screaming for the big boat.  I began yelling and waving as well, he finally heard us/me, and motored over in a hurry.  They threw her a life preserver and she grabbed it and I went on my way.  45 minutes later, when I was on my second loop, I saw her in the boat as it was headed for shore.  Happened to me at the 2001 CajunMan, I know the feeling.  Anyway, I had a good swim for me.  First loop was 48:xx, and when it was all said and done I ended with a 1:39:xx, which was not a PR, but good for me (not for you, for me).  I would have been pleased with anything under 1:50, so to sneak under 1:40 was huge.  I realized later it was the first long swim I ever did where my goggles never fogged up and that helped.  I did my usual protocol of going with a new pair, but never before had my goggles stayed crystal clear all the way.  Why was that?  Oh yeah, as far as conditions, Lake Minneola is brown but clean (it's the tannins, they say).  We faced a significant chop on the first loop, not so bad on the second.  More important than that, though, the light rain that had fallen off and on quit, the sun emerged, and as it turned out, it shone brightly all day.

Pretty quick transition of 5 or 6 minutes, and I head out on the bike.  Happy to leave the arm warmers in my bag.  The bike course breaks down like this: 40 miles of hills, 50 miles of flats, 25 miles of hills to finish.  Keith and I had both ended with 115 miles on our computers, so that is what we're going with.  Back in 2003, the course was two loops of a 56 mile course and you had to climb Sugarloaf Mountain, as well as many other less famous hills, twice.  This year it was back to a single "112" mile loop with that 50 mile stretch of flats in the middle, so it was easier than 2003, but still tough enough.  I lose ground on the climbs, with my inferior power to weight ratio, even with my compact cranks and 12/25 rear cassette.  A near wipe-out in the second mile caused me to lose a bottle and I had to stop, dismount, and jog back to get it.  I considered letting it go, but with only 2 bottles of 450 calories each on the bike, decided I couldn't risk leaving it behind.  Otherwise, I never got off the bike.  I set the world record for number of times peeing on the bike at Lake Placid last year, and I at least threatened it this year.  It was not exactly HOT, but warm enough that once my two bottles were drained, I grabbed a Gatorade and a water at every station and drank most of each.

The first 40 miles of the course you share it with the people doing the half, so it was a little crowded.  Got passed by a few, especially on the climbs, but for the most part was continually picking people off. This hilly portion contains the climb of Sugarloaf, the Buckhill Rollers and many other climbs.  I went into the small chainring quite a few times, maybe 20 or 30.  I passed Keith around 35 or so and we chatted briefly.  After you turn on Simon Brown Rd., you are on the 112 mile loop and of course the cyclists get fewer, since the half is more popular.  A guy passed me pretty early, about mile 45, but nobody else went by, and I continued to pick off somebody every couple of minutes.  This is the almost completely flat 50 miles, and since that is what I train on, flats, I felt great.  I never before had a bike ride where I felt strong all the way.  Usually around mile 70 and 80 you go through a bad patch where you think, Man, where is that next 5 mile marker, or Man, I am so ready to get off this bike, etc., but I never had any of that.  And not only that, I was aware that I was feeling great, and it kept me pumped up.  There was talk afterward of the wind on the bike, but I never noticed that either.  I attribute all this feeling so good to a variety of things - decent training, dumb luck, a very good position Mark Miller has me in, and for sure moving from an aluminum frame to carbon.  I monitored my heart rate for the whole ride, and except for the climbs where I had to let it go, I kept it low, around 115 or 120. 

Well, I knew I would be close to going under 6:00 for the bike, which if you had told me beforehand I would have said no way, since I knew the course pretty well.  I was honestly thinking 6:20 to 6:30 would be great.  I thought I ended about 6:02, but found later I was only a few seconds over 6 hours.

Okay, quick transition and portalet break, and on to the run course.  Just as I am heading out, maybe two minutes into it, here comes Keith in from his ride.  Damn, I was thinking I would have maybe fifteen or twenty minutes on him by now, not just six or seven.  He is a super runner, the run is clearly his strength.  Don't get me wrong, I am not racing Keith, only myself, but at the same time we are definitely competitive with each other, and I knew it would be close.  He sees me and calls out "I am coming for you!" in a confident tone.  Shit!  Anyway, I did the first three miles in a little under 24:00 - way too fast, but my HR was under control, and my stride was relaxed.  Wow - am I in this good a shape?  Well, yes and no, some of the next few miles were more in the 8:30 to 8:45 range, so I am thinking that the first few were a bit short and the next few a bit long, maybe.

The run course is basically three loops around Minneola Lake, but the lake is only about 7. 2 miles in circumference, so they must pick up 4.6 miles somehow. Back in 2003 they had us do one out and back that included two brutal hills, one of which most people, myself included, chose to walk.  This year they threw in a 1.5 mile out and back on each loop which was flat.  There is a small grade that you climb up at the start of each loop but otherwise it's flat, so a bit easier run than in 2003.  It was hot at the run start, and I was grabbing ice on the fly at every station and stuffing it in my tri top.  It cooled down a little by maybe mile 16 or so to where I could stop this.  Somewhere after mile 17 was where I took my first walk break.  To me, it's always important to delay that first such break as long as possible - once you take it, it becomes too easy to do it again and again.  Checking my watch, I could see that the elusive (for me) sub 12 hour finish was within reach, but the damage was too great the last four miles.  Mile 23 was about 12:00 with all the walking I did and that sealed the deal.  But I did get a little second wind the last mile and a half, and finished strong.  I made the turn for the last 200 meters into the chute and checked to make sure Keith was not sneaking up behind me.  The coast was clear and I crossed the line in 12:03, a PR by 10 minutes.  A good day, a fortunate day, on a fairly tough course.  I has decided at about mile 5 of the run that I was done with IM racing, but just a few hours later at the finish, I was already reconsidering.  Keith came in a few minutes later, the next in our AG to cross, which was nice.  We grabbed all our bags and hobbled up the hill to the car, and were back to the condo in time to relax, eat, and watch a little college football.

So here's the thing: Keith and I agreed that this was the best IronMan we have ever done (and he has done 10).  Some of the reasons:

1. It's cheap, particularly compared to a "destination" race like Lake Placid or Arizona. Even Panama City Beach, which is closer, gets a lot more for lodging than the 80$/night we paid.  And of course, there is no airplane flight/car rental/bike transport to worry about, since it's drivable.