Pre-Race Days
I arrived in Panama City on Thursday and was greeted with 80 degree weather, endless
sunshine and soft breezes. As I exited the airport, I knew that weather was not going to be
a major factor – in fact, I could not think of better conditions than what we had.
When I got to the hotel, the enormity of this race started to hit me. As a first time IM
racer, I had never seen the spectacle that is known as an IM Expo. It was overwhelming –
the sheer number of incredibly fit people (the abs/calves per person ratio must have been
off the charts) with ridiculously expensive bikes (I’m pretty sure some cost as much as
my family’s first car), and each person sizing each other up while hundreds of vendors
were selling the latest “must have” in triathlon gear (sadly, no one was selling a jet pack
or a motorcycle, things I would definitely have bought to insure I actually finished this
race).
I spent the 2 days before the race trying to take it all in, to fully enjoy the experience,
while also making sure my gear was ready for Saturday. It was great having the
Withrows, both for the company and as a resource as I prepared for the race. JW helped
me with my gear bags and he insisted that he be the one to put my race sticker on my bike
because he knew the most aero dynamic and proportional position for the sticker….yes,
only JW would ever think of this. But to be honest, given my lack of knowledge with
bike maintenance, I was happy that he was there inspecting it (if only he could ride it for
me!). We also decided to sample the burgeoning Florida Panhandle culinary scene by
carbo loading at the Waffle House – pecan waffles never tasted so good!!
Loading up!
Eventually, my prep work was complete and there was nothing left to do but eat a big
dinner and try to get some sleep. Of course, I barely slept that night – I tossed and turned,
with so many thoughts and emotions running through my mind:
Fear/Nervousness – holy shit, I’m about to do an Ironman!! Was I ready for this? What
was I thinking? Damn you Withrow!!!
Excitement – how could I not be excited? Despite the fear, I was pretty amped to take on
this extraordinary challenge. Before, an Ironman was such an impossible and nebulous
concept to me, an accomplishment reserved only for the fittest. Was I actually about to
earn the right to be called one of them?!!?
Gratefulness – not to be cheesy but for me, it was already an accomplishment that I made
it to the starting line. It was only less than 2 years ago that I hopped on a treadmill and
had to stop running after ½ a mile because I was so out of shape. Anything that happens
after the whistle went off the next day would be, as my friend Big EZ (Evan Odim)
would say, “pure gravy.”
Obligation – I made up my mind that no matter what happened, I would not quit the next
day. Unless a race official pulled me off the course or a kayak dragged me out of the
ocean, I was not going to stop. I owed it to myself to get to the finish line, 17 hours or
not.
Race Morning
I tossed and turned till 2AM, when I got up to eat a Cliff Bar and drink some water. I then
went back to bed but just stared at the clock till 4:15AM, when I finally “woke up” to get
ready for the race. I ate one more Cliff Bar, drank some coconut water, and started
drinking as much water as I could take without getting a stomach ache. I wanted to be
hydrated before the swim – my goal was to pee at least twice while wearing my wet suit
as I stood on the beach before the swim (I would exceed this goal, often while talking to a
fellow athlete at the swim start).
After dropping off my special needs bags and doing one last bike check, I went back to
my room to stretch and clear my mind. I ended up staying in the room too long because
when I got to the beach, it felt like everyone was there already. In fact, I must have been
one of the last athletes to make it into the designated swim area. As a result, I missed
whatever last minute “advice” was given by the announcer but given that it was a simple
rectangular swim course and I had attended the Endurance Nation Florida IM chat the
previous day, I was not too worried about it. I was there in time to hear the announcer say
that there was a strong right to left current so it was best to not swim on the buoy line or
you could end up in “no man’s land,” the inner area of the rectangle. I was happy to hear
about this current because I have a tendency to swim to the right, so I hoped that the
current would offset this as I swum out (but I did make it a point to remember that I
should push hard to the left when I swam back to shore). I positioned myself roughly in
the center but all the way in the back. It was a mass start on the beach and I was not
looking to throw or receive elbows and kicks as I swam.
Swim (1:31)
There were strong waves as I entered the water (I actually ducked under a bunch of them)
but as I got out into the deep, it was relatively calmer. I did feel an up and down motion
as I swam but it was not too bad, and being in salt water made me very buoyant. I swam
as hard as I could without breaking my form and sighted after counting a set number of
strokes. I also felt the current pushing me – there were many instances where I definitely
felt faster because of it. It became hard to sight on the way back to shore but a helpful
kayaker yelled “swim towards the sun” so I just aimed for the big shiny blob in the sky as
I swam (it was actually hard to see anything else so I just prayed that the kayaker was
right). I was also prepared to see jellyfish (I had applied “anti-jellyfish” sun block) but
fortunately, none would appear throughout the race.
Surprisingly, the swim was the most uneventful part of this very long day. I did miss the
first mat but other than that and being yelled at to swim towards the sun, it was relatively
straightforward affair for me. I had spent an inordinate time preparing for the swim and it
helped. But little did I know that my swim was too uneventful, as it was about to set me
up for a very long and difficult day.
Crushed from the swim
T1 (16:10)
As I exited out of the water, I knew that I had a solid (for me at least) swim. But I did not
feel any elation from this because immediately, a wave of dizziness, light headedness,
and fatigue washed over me. I’ve felt this way before, after a 1 mile swim race, and it
was under similar conditions. After swimming one of my better swims at that time, I felt
dizzy and light headed, then almost passed out. But unlike then, I still had a 112 mile bike
ride and a marathon to overcome!! I trudged over to a volunteer wet suit stripper but
unlike everyone else, I had not taken off the top part of my suit. I just stared at him
blankly and stood there, unable to speak. “Do you need help with your suit?” he asked me
and I meekly nodded. “Raise your arms!” and “Now sit down on the sand!” he yelled at
me – it was like he was instructing a 5yr old because he not only had to give me the most
rudimentary instructions that no one else needed but he had to scream it at me to ensure
that it made through my blank stare.
I trudged slowly through the long parking lot and into the changing area, which was
actually indoors (Florida IM is known to have one of the longer T1 areas). I saw Tovah
and she cheered me on, and it gave me a momentary respite from the exhaustion and
dizziness that I felt. When I got to the men’s changing area, I didn’t even make it to a
chair – I just plopped down on the floor, put my arms on my knees, and sat there. At this
juncture, I thought my race was over. I was angry at myself because over the last 3-4
months, I heavily focused on my swim (and probably to the detriment of my bike and
run) because I wanted to be sure I would finish it but now, even though the swim was
done, I wouldn’t even make it to the bike. There’s no such thing as a good swim if you
don’t make it to the bike!!!
I also remembered my father-in-law. He was one of those fit 60yr old men, still running
marathons and going on long bike rides. In fact, we rode together in the past and he
would beat me up every single hill we rode on. But that changed last year when he got
into a cycling accident. He has not been the same since, especially because he suffered
some brain damage from it. I thought about him and for a moment, I was scared to get on
my bike because of the condition I was in. I thought about my wife and I was not going to
put her through that. At that point, I decided to eat some Shot Bloks and drink some
water and if I did not feel a material improvement in my condition, I was going to throw
the towel in. And sure enough, I actually started to feel better. In fact, I even started
chatting with the guy next to me, Jesus from Miami (no, I was not having a Tim Tebow
like hallucination and seeing the son of God in the changing area – that was his actual
name!). He encouraged me even though he didn’t look so good himself, and I finally
started feeling well enough to throw on my bike shoes.
After lingering near the aid station in the men’s changing area, I decided that I was well
enough to give this ride a try. I knew that my entire race plan was shot at that point – I
over-extended myself in the swim but I figured if I rode smart on the bike and did not
push it too hard, I would be ok. Plus, I knew it was a flat course and flat courses are easy,
right?!!? No real hills, so this would be a piece of cake……and I would never be so
wrong about something than I was at that moment.
Bike (7:52)
As I mounted my bike, I saw Jess near the bike start line cheering me on and it
immediately gave me a boost of energy. The early part of the bike was narrow so I was
very careful as I clipped in as there was a bunch of us there, with some doing the usual
zigzag as they start a triathlon bike.
The first part of the bike was down the main street along the ocean in Panama City,
which was dotted with tattoo parlors, surf shops and waffle houses. I was going to ride
“easy” for the first hour, and then kick it into a higher power target afterwards. As I rode,
a fellow athlete rode up to me and greeted me in Tagalog (the native language of the
Philippines) - oh how my parents would have been pleased as we exchanged pleasantries
in the mother tongue! And shortly thereafter, who did I catch up to but my new friend
Jesus!! It’s amazing what a familiar face will do to your morale in an Ironman, even if
that face was from a person you just met 20 minutes ago.
The bike was a long affair for me, with the following key highlights:
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Flat is not easy because there are no breaks – you have to constantly pedal the
whole time!! It was like being on a trainer for 8 hours outdoors. It took a large toll
on my legs and my psyche.
You are in your aerobars the whole time. There is no break from this, especially
since it was windy (nice tailwind on the way out, awful headwind on the way in).
I made sure to stretch and get off the aero every 30 minutes, but it still did not
prevent the inevitable back and neck aches.
This was not a “pretty” ride. No picturesque views or winding peaks and valleys.
Instead, it was one pine tree after another, and not much else. In fact, I would be
elated when I saw a turn up ahead because it was, at the very least, something
different to see and do (“oh my God, it’s a turn up ahead!!!!”).
Having learned the art of triathlon from Withrow, I too am a self confessed “peeon-myself-while I bike during races” kind of guy. In fact, my motto on the bike,
to steal from Jay-Z, was “I got 99 problems but peeing on myself is not one of
them.” But because it was flat and I was constantly pedaling, this was very hard to
do. As a result, I stopped a few times to use a port-o-potty. This was actually nice
since it also gave me a chance to stretch my back and get off the saddle.
There was a 10 mile stretch that was riddled with pot holes and cracks. Imagine
riding on this after you have ridden over 60 miles already – I couldn’t yell out
enough expletives during this part of the ride, to the point that I actually cursed in
Spanish and Tagalog because I exhausted every obscenity in the English
language. Also, because of the bumps, I ended up having my Perform energy
drink spill all over my face, arms, and legs. I actually had to stop to wash it off me
with a bottle of water.
I love the volunteers in these Ironman races as they epitomize what this sport is
all about. But I do wish that they wouldn’t grill burgers and hot dogs for
themselves so close to the bike course!!! About 2/3 of the way on the ride, they
had a full BBQ going – and smelling those burgers was pure torture, especially
while I was munching on my umpteenth piece of Shot Bloks! Suffice to say, I
fantasized about cheeseburgers for the duration of the ride.
I did not put on any Glide or Chamois Cream in T1. Around mile 65, it felt like
someone swapped out my Adamo bike seat with one made completely out of
sandpaper….to spare the readers of this report, I will not elaborate further on this!
After 5 hours, my body started to reject my nutrition. The Perform started to taste
cloying, and it did not help that I was mixing flavors. I started to dry heave after
eating my Shot Bloks and I could only stomach half of the Powerbar that I kept in
my special needs bag. I forced myself to keep taking my nutrition but my stomach
was not thrilled.
The headwind on the way back was brutal, and given the mental and physical fatigue, it
felt like the last 20 miles was harder than the first 92 miles. When there was a small
downhill, I would tuck in and milk it for all it was worth – you’d think by my pose I was
going 35 mph when sadly, it was closer to 18 mph!! But I finally got to the end and as I
passed my bike on to a volunteer, I told him “Burn this freaking bike or throw it in the
ocean because I never want to see it again.”
Is it over yet?
T2 (8:55)
As I entered the changing area, lo and behold but there, sitting down and changing was
Jesus! We exchanged high fives, and cursed the bike course together. T2 was a less
dramatic and onerous affair for me compared to T1. I put on my running gear and
waddled to the run start and once again, Jess and Tovah were there and they welcomed
me with a hearty cheer!! This was the third time I had seen them during the IM and like
before, their cheers was an instant energy boost. I gave them a wave, asked Jess to text
my wife to let her know I was ok, and started my run.
Run (6:35)
The run course was great because of the crowd support. It was a largely flat run that
winded its way through narrow residential streets – as a result, many spectators were
right up on the runners and their exuberance and energy really made it special. It was as if
we were running through a giant block party that was being thrown in our honor. And
you truly have not lived if you have not run while a woman dressed as Catwoman and a
man wearing nothing but speedos and sneakers are running next to you and cheering
wildly!!
The first 10 miles for me was largely according to plan. I ran in my targeted pace while
walking through every aid station. I still couldn’t stomach the Perform so I started mixing
it with water, but at that point, even gasoline would have tasted better to me. Also, during
my first loop, I saw Withrow as he was finishing his last – and in true Withrow style, he
looked like he was running while having a heart attack at the same time. But it was great
to see him, and we exchanged the tired man’s version of a high five – arms barely move
up and hands slide off each other as we run past.
By this point, I was beginning to dry heave as my body was in straight rebellion against
any more Perform. But more concerning was the pain that was fomenting in my calves. It
started out as just a little tightness but as I approached the half-way point, it was full on
searing pain. At about mile 12, I felt a sharp pain in both calves and I knew that I was not
going to be able to run anymore. I immediately went into mathematics mode and started
calculating at what pace I needed to maintain while power walking before the race cut-off
at midnight. Of course, doing math after you have been awake for roughly 18 hours (and
having spent most of it swimming, biking and running) is not easy, so I kept double
checking my numbers in my head (“Ok, carry the 2, then times 4….wait, what number
was I suppose to carry?!?”).
As I power walked, who did I see but once again, my old dear friend Jesus! He had
actually passed me earlier and he was looking great, full gait and all. But this time, he
was in bad shape, just shuffling his feet with eyes on the ground. I asked him how he was
and all he could mutter was “Bad…real bad.” I gave him some encouraging words and
moved on but sadly, I would later learn that he did not make it past mile 15.
Around mile 18, I started walking with one of the athletes, Neil from Mobile, Alabama.
His Garmin had broken down and he had no idea if he was on the right pace to make it
before midnight. So for the duration of the race, we stuck together, exchanging stories
about where we were from and why on God’s green earth did we find ourselves in this
crazy race. I was happy for the company and we were able to force each other to keep a
brisk pace. This is one of the amazing things about these races – where else can a guy
from New York City and one from Alabama ever be brought together and share a bond?
I’ll never see Neil again but at that moment, during those long miles in the dark, he was
the best friend a guy could have.
When we got to mile 20, I thought I had to fart and just when I was about to, my whole
body clenched…..because it was going to be something worse than a fart!! On top of
everything I had going on already, I now had to deal with this!! I immediately did the
math and realized that I had two options: take a 5 minute bathroom break and run the rest
of the way after, or just hold it in, maintain my current brisk walk pace, and pray that I
wouldn’t have the most embarrassing finisher picture in the history of Ironman races. I
opted for the latter since I was in no condition to run, and started wondering how many
hits the inevitable youtube video of me pooping myself would get.
My stomach eventually settled down, largely from the elixir of the Gods that I discovered
– warm chicken broth!!! No white truffle from Piedmont, nor the juiciest slice of Kobe
beef from Japan, could ever compare to the taste of chicken broth in mile 20 of an
Ironman. And around mile 23, I thought I was seeing apparitions because out of the
darkness emerged Withrow!!! Having finished his race about 5 hours ago, he had been
following me on the tracker and was worried about me not making it. Stand up guy that
he is, he decided to walk back on the course just to make sure I was not face down in the
dark somewhere. I was pumped to see him, but I also told him that if I could, I’d
probably stab him in the chest. But in all seriousness, seeing him and Jess gave me an
extra boost.
JW, myself, and Neil
Finish (16:24)
Eventually, I saw the bright lights of the finish line, and the low din from the crowd
became full-throated yelling. Running down the finisher chute was incredible – the crowd
was going wild, the music was blaring, and everyone was cheering us on….no words can
ever truly describe that moment. The crowd was so loud that as I approached the finish
line, all I heard was “Carlo Portes,” “New York City,” and “Ironman.” Three simple
phrases, but phrases that will stay with me for a lifetime…..
To this day, I still don’t remember what I was thinking as I crossed that finish line. But I
do remember, not just at the finish but also throughout the race, how I kept thinking what
an amazing privilege it was to be out there racing. I’m slow in all 3 events and for most
of my adult life, I knew my way around a nightclub better than a triathlon transition area.
But here I was, swimming, biking and running in this ridiculous event that some people
can only dream of. I thought about my father-in-law, and how his accident robbed him
from being able to do some of the physical endeavors that he loved so much. I was so
lucky to be out there, and I was not going to waste that privilege. I was going to give it
everything I had, and enjoy every moment of it.
Addendum
I’d be remiss if I did not give a shout-out to some of the people that made this crazy
journey possible:
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Team Reserve Aid – to everyone on Team RA, who was a limitless source of
information, support, advice, and humor.
Jess and Tovah – for being the best cheerleaders and Sherpas ever!
Big EZ (Evan Odim) and JW (John Withrow) – basically my two gurus during
this journey. Big EZ never let me get discouraged, especially when I almost tore
my Achilles this March. And JW, who basically pulled a Leonardo DiCaprio and
“incepted” me with the idea not just to start running, but to train for an Ironman.
And what can you say about a guy who decides to do another Ironman after only
3 months of completing one, just so I wouldn’t be racing by myself? Damn You
Withrow!!!!!
My Marion – my wife has shown incredible support and patience throughout this
journey. It was beyond the normal trials and tribulations that triathlon
wives/husbands go through (“Honey, I need to do a 5hr bike ride tomorrow so
can we just push brunch later?”) - after her father’s accident, it was hard for her
to see me keep biking, and rightfully so. And yet, she was there for me….I
sometimes wonder what I did to be this lucky.