Just before the 19th mile I quit. I pressed the stop button on my GPS watch and turned off of the marathon course onto a street that I knew was a shortcut to the finish area. I unhooked one of the safety pins holding my race number bib onto my shirt and started walking.

It was around mile 16 that I started contemplating dropping out of the Richmond Marathon. I was running across Lee Bridge at my target pace of 6:50 minutes per mile. This crossing of the James River is known for a slight uphill that can have punishing winds. But today's runners were lucky as the moderate wind was actually blowing from behind, providing a tail wind.

I had been doing well up to that point, eating my energy gels as planned, drinking a little at each water station and even trying to enjoy the course scenery. However, my quadriceps were hurting and the pace became more and more difficult. I continued in hopes that the next turn would put me on less of an incline and the pace would become easier.

It didn't. The wind was now slightly head on and the road was still a gentle uphill. Just after mile marker 17, I slowed down, but kept running. I was wrestling with the idea of dropping out. "There is no reason to continue on and suffer like this. It will only get worse," I told myself.

At the next water station I walked for a bit. I looked behind me to see if I could see Tim, my running partner. We had started together, but I had pulled away from him around mile 11. I saw him coming and continued to walk until he caught up. He asked if I was hurting too and tried to encourage me saying we could still get a good time. I told him I was considering dropping out and just didn't care anymore. I couldn't keep up with his pace and let him go.

I decided to drop out and walk to the finish. And I was not going to be disappointed or beat myself up about it. I would get my phone and email the people that I knew were following my progress so they would not worry about me. Not long after is when I saw the cross street that I knew was about 2 miles from the finish. I was ready to stop and walk.

I pulled out the top right safety pin first. Perhaps it was because I didn't want to disappoint my family and running friends who were following my progress. Perhaps it was because the street I turned on is named Grace. I did not have a life changing epiphany or remember some wise words of wisdom. But before I went to remove the second safety pin, something caused the "I'm not a quitter" switch to turn on. I dug deep for the motivation and came up with this: "Dammit, I want to wear the shirt and get that medal."

I put the safety pin back through my shirt and bib, turned around to get back on the course, restarted my GPS and began running. I knew the next 7 miles would be difficult and painful. I convinced myself that 7 miles is not so long and I could push through. My pace continued to slow and I employed a run/walk strategy of running between water stations and walking while I drank. Gentle inclines felt like tough hills and gentle breezes felt like punishing winds.

I finished with mixed emotions. I had set a new personal record by about three and a half minutes. I had come in under my Boston qualification requirement. But I had quit. Sure, my quitting had only lasted about 30 seconds and nobody else even knew about it. My family and friends are all congratulating me and everyone is impressed with my finishing time of 3:11:45. That is all great to hear. I guess because I had trained for a finish time of 3 hours and because I had actually walked off the course I am somewhat disappointed.

It is hard to say why I couldn't keep up the pace. I don't think the course or the winds are to blame. I know I was plenty full of carbohydrates and never felt like I hit the wall. I think I can only blame my training. Although I had met all the targets of the speed workouts, I think maybe my long runs were too slow and I did not build up the endurance to maintain that pace for 26.2 miles.

What now? I think postponing that thought process is the only thing that makes sense right now.

The Frosty 50k race yesterday was a study in perseverance. Had it not been for the great one-man support crew/photographer/videographer that Chad was, my running partner Tim, and encouragement from other runners, I may have not finished.

The course was a horseshoe shape. One length of the "U" was 7.75 miles, or one-fourth of the course. Racers run out-and-back, twice. The far end of the "U" was very close to the start. Not including the start and finish, there were three places where bailing out was an easy option with only a short walk back to the car. I was highly tempted by two of those during the 4.5 hours I was out there.

Tim and I decided to go out at a 7:30 pace and see how it felt. It did not feel easy or relaxed, but not horribly difficult to begin with. The first place for bailing out was at the 8 or so mile mark. We still felt good there and kept going without question. The return to the start found our pace slowing, some wind blowing, and the sky snowing. We managed to complete the first half in less than 2 hours.

However, the five minutes before reaching the half-way point - and the second place for bailing out - included a discussion on how smart it would be to stop and go for the "Did Not Finish" result. I said, "It feels like the right decision now, but I may regret it in a couple of days." We both agreed that we would probably get over it. The thought of running the same course out-and-back again seemed agonizing. But after a couple of cups of gatorade, a snack and some encouraging words from Chad, we decided to continue on, slowing it down significantly and walking the few tough hills.

Our mile splits went from 7:30/8:00 minute miles to 8:40/9:00 minute miles. We made it to the farthest point out where an aid station was with very little walking. Some pretzels and water fueled me for the back stretch. Other racers were supportive usually saying, "Good job guys!" Tim's response was either, "You too. Keep it up!" or "I should have trained for this."

On one short, steep hill we started walking and a female racer who had apparently been closing in on us ran past us, looking strong on the uphill. After she was a few yards ahead of us, Tim muttered, "Overacheiver." She glanced back and said, "I heard that!" We laughed and continued to underacheive on the hill as we walked up it.

When we were nearing the next point where bailing out was easy, I was again considering it. Despite having eaten most of a Cliff Bar over the last 8 miles, my tank was saying "Low Fuel." Sleeping sounded like an awesome idea. Tim said he was going to finish it, so I stayed with him. But I remembered that on the first out-and-back it felt like a long way to the far part of the "U" and the final return to the start would begin. To help the time go by I started singing "100 Bottles of Beer" in my head. I made it to 83 before getting distracted.

The trail had permanent mile markers showing the distance from the start to the end of the horseshoe, but not specific markers for this race. Those became helpful on this last return because they were a countdown to the finish. I hadn't seen one in a while and was feeling weary and decided to walk a bit. Tim kept going, and we both saw the 4 mile marker. I picked it up again knowing there was an aid station less than half a mile away. I ate more pretzels and drank two cups of gatorade as I walked for a bit. Tim was just ahead of me, but started running before I did. We wouldn't meet again until the finish.

For the last 3.5 miles my energy seemed to hold and I felt decent. Knowing I was getting close probably helped. I did get quite cold. This section of the course had some places where the wind blew extra-cold air off the lake. My wet-from-sweat hair and shirt would try to freeze. I longed for my fleece jacket and hat.

Around some of the bends I could see the tent that was set up at the finish line in the distance. I walked up a hill or two, a couple of people passed me, and I passed somebody. The last few miles each took between 9:40 and 11 minutes. I crossed the finish line and stopped my Garmin at 4:24:26. I was not as exhausted as I thought I would be. I changed into some warmer clothes and we then went to Moe's Southwest Grill for burritos.

A day later and I'm actually surprised that I am not hurting as much as I had after the marathon. I believe the slower pace and the dirt trail prevented me from feeling overly beat up. I even considered a short, easy run this afternoon since it was sunny out. But my wife needed to run some errands so I had kid duty. It is probably for the better and she is probably doing me a favor.

I compiled the video and photos that Chad shot into a video on YouTube.

I decided to start in the back of the pack for the Thunder Road Marathon and Half Marathon race in Charlotte last weekend. While waiting for the 7:45am start, I noticed a lot of people looking at me and smiling. One guy even pulled out his camera phone, stood next to me and took a picture of us together. He then proceeded to post it on Facebook. This doesn't normally happen to me, but whatever. I'm an amiable guy.

The race started and the pack began to move forward. I walked towards the line with the others. The announcer shouted words of encouragement over the loud speaker. Then he said, "Look! It's Santa Clause! Good luck Santa Clause!"

Being focused on the 13.1 miles ahead of me, I did not look around to find Santa Clause. Instead, I waved to the announcer and the crowds who were now cheering me because I was wearing a full Santa Clause suit, including a hat and beard.

'Twas the day before the race and all through the house, not a creature was knowing except for my spouse. I talked to her about this idea a few times during the day. That evening I went to the race expo, met some friends and ate dinner. On my way home I got a text message from my wife saying she bought me a Santa suit. I panicked. She had called my bluff and I couldn't back down. And, per my idea, she purchased candy canes for me to hand out along the course. When I got home my children were very excited that I would be the "Running Santa."

I tried on the suit and my wife made a couple of adjustments so the belt and hat would stay on during the run. I put the candy canes into a small black bag that I would carry. I placed my gear by the chimney with care, in hopes that I wouldn't be the only St. Nicholas there. I nestled all snug in my bed, while visions of others mocking me danced in my head.

As I crossed the starting line, there arose such a clatter, I sprang into a run and was quite flattered. I waved to the spectators and shouted "Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas!" I will probably never be a Santa Clause in a parade. But this felt like I was doing just that. Parents said to their kids, "There's Santa!"

To the top of the hill, past a cement wall, we dashed away, dashed away, dashed away all! Starting at the back allowed me to pass a lot of other runners. There was no mocking. They liked seeing Santa. I heard, "There's Santa" and "Hi Santa!" as I went by. I replied, "Merry Christmas! GO! GO! GO!"

I was dressed all in flannel, from my head to my toe, and my clothes became tarnished with sweat wouldn't you know! Along the course were mothers, fathers, grandparents and children watching for their loved ones in the race. When, what to their wondering eyes should appear, but a running Santa spreading Christmas cheer. They were a bit surprised when I stopped to give them candy canes and say "Merry Christmas."

"That's great! Thank you Santa," they replied.

The first four miles went by very quick, but I stopped for a moment to see my friend Nick. Nick was volunteering at a water station. I gave him a pile of candy canes to share with the other volunteers there. He laughed and said, "That is hilarious! You're awesome!"

More rapid than eagles the spectators came; they whistled and shouted and called me by name. I asked if anyone had seen my reindeer. Some runners told me they had been good and asked if they could have a PR (personal record) for their finish time.

I had a broad smile and hoped I wasn't smelly. "It's a skinny Santa," someone said at the lack of my belly.

There were a few spectating children bundled against the cold in strollers with a tray in front. I liked them because I could just slow down, drop a candy cane onto their tray, say "Merry Christmas" and keep going.

In the latter part of the race one runner said, "You are insane!"

"Merry Christmas," I replied.

Another runner said, "Hey Santa, I heard you were coming to town!"

As I crossed the finish line and walked out of sight, I said, "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"

As you can probably tell, it was a blast. I did see two other runners in some Santa gear. But I'm pretty sure I was the only one with a full outfit including hat and beard and passing out candy canes. The next day I looked at the Charlotte Observer coverage of the race. Although there were no pictures of any Santas, the last part of one article had the following.

-------------
At the finish line, Rebecca Shigley, 33, of Richmond, Va., snacked with her husband and two daughters after completing her seventh marathon.

She said she'll remember this year's race for the lively crowd in NoDa, the good police support and the guy in front of her who ran the entire marathon in a Santa suit, handing out candy to every kid along the route.
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The stats.
Distance according to GPS : 13.24 mi
Time (including stops): 01:48:32
Average pace: 8:11 min/mi
Number of candy canes distributed: 180
Cost of Santa Suit: $30
Amount of Christmas cheer spread: Infinite

The City of Oaks Marathon is coupled with a half marathon which probably had three times as many runners, something over 2000. A race photographer was getting some candid shots at the starting area. I asked him to get a picture of my two running buddies and me. We lined up and he took the shot and then said, "That's great. And wow, you guys are doing the whole marathon!"

We promptly found our way to a comfortable spot fairly near the front of the pack. Each of us had different time goals. Although I knew Tim, my main running partner for this training, was capable of keeping up with me, he wanted to run a bit more conservatively. His BQ goal was about 20 minutes slower than mine, so he had less pressure.

With little fanfare, we were off. My plan was to stay as close to the 7:20 pace for as long as possible with a BQ goal of 7:26 overall pace. The first six miles took us through downtown Raleigh and around the state capitol before heading west. The hills through this section were short and rolling. And because it was early in the race they were not difficult. I had eaten one gel a little before the start, and took another just before mile 6. I also took water or sports drink at each station. I liked doing that because I never got majorly thirsty and didn't feel like I had to gulp down a lot each time. A few ounces every two miles was plenty without getting the sloshy stomach.

The first six mile splits were 7:23, 7:13, 7:11, 7:18, 7:26, 7:31. Predominantly uphill miles make themselves obvious.

There were not a lot of spectators, just a few pockets here and there. And then there was the occasional random person alone, giving supportive words as runners went by. One such spectator offered me the words every marathoner at about mile 8 hopes to hear, "Enjoy your day!" Heh, yea, maybe in about 18 more miles.

Miles 6 - 12 were uneventful and less hilly: 7:20, 7:23, 7:14, 7:16, 7:17, 7:11.

The next three miles were primarily uphill. I had taken a Gu in preparation for this and it powered me past several fading runners. Fortunately it allowed me make a final pass of one particular guy that had been passing me on downhills and falling back on uphills. The worst thing he did was cut right in front of me in order to get to a gel packet hand-off. He did so just as I was taking a drink of water and caused me to inhale instead of swallow and thus I was coughing and hacking for the next quarter mile. But I'm a nice guy - especially if you're behind me - so I let it go.

At the top of that hill my amazing wife and three children were waiting to cheer me on. "Go Daddy Go!" I was on a high - partly because I had finished a long climb and partly because I felt good and was about to hit mile 15. At this point the course entered Umstead State Park and changed from roads to trails. It is a wide, smooth trail of fine gravel and lined by fall colored trees. In fact, while riding the high and hitting a long downhill I hit my fastest mile.

Just before mile 15, feeling good.

At the bottom of that I crossed a bridge over a creek and then hit a wall. Not "the wall," but a very steep, short climb. Ouch. But it leveled out and eventually went back down for a bit. A little after the 17 mile mark, The Climb began. Except for a couple of short sections that either leveled or went downhill, The Climb lasted for the next 4 miles. I suppose if you were to go for a 5 or 6 mile run that included this section it would not be so bad, but doing it after 17 previous not-so-flat miles was a challenge. One web site course review claimed that this hill brought him to a walk.

Miles 13 - 18 splits: 7:19, 7:30, 7:19, 7:03 (fastest), 7:30. My overall average was right about 7:20 at this point.

I ate a mint chocolate gu just before The Climb, again timing the gels well. I never like to drop my trash just anywhere, I usually hold it until a water station, sometimes changing which hand is holding it. A few minutes after eating it I look at my hands and they have chocolate all over them. I didn't empty the packet very well and managed to squeeze the remainder out without knowing it. I tried to lick some of it off but couldn't get them very clean. I avoided wiping them on my white top. When the trail exited the park there was a water station where I managed to drink a little and use the rest to rinse my hands.

At that park exit there was a barricade that we were funneled around and then the water station volunteers lined a narrow path just after. I started thinking, "Sweet, this is just like a finish line. I can stop now." But I couldn't and didn't. There was a short downhill but the climbing was far from over. My pace slowed as did a few other runners that I managed to pass. Near the end of this climb I again saw my wife and kids cheering me on. Some more "Go Daddy Go!" shouts are just what I needed to get the rest of the way up The Climb. They were such troopers to drive around and wait in the cold for me to run by.

Around mile 20, feeling not as good.

Miles 19 - 22 (end of climb) splits: 7:24, 7:44, 7:33, 7:29. The overall average was rising, 7:22 now.

I turned left onto Hillsborough (the least hilly road) for the remaining miles which were primarily flat and downhill. But thank goodness that left turn yielded a headwind to keep these miles from being easy. My legs were beginning to complain more and more at this point. My quads and calves were saying, "Stop! Walk! Please?" I passed some half-marathon walkers who were just happily going along, chatting with their friends and enjoying themselves. Some would shout encouraging words as I went by. I just wanted to see the next right turn which meant less wind, downhill and the last 2 miles.

I made that right turn, and tried to pick up the pace on the downhill, but the legs were not having it. I looked at my time and calculated that if I could just keep it under 8 minute miles I should be able to make the 3:15 time goal. I had not stopped or walked once so far, but my legs were winning their desire to walk. Just after mile 25, on a slight uphill, I gave in and walked, but only for a few seconds. "Just keep running," I thought. I noticed my stride had majorly shortened. I was doing more of a shuffle and could only manage a 9:30+ minute pace. Another short rise in the road and I slowed to a walk again. I didn't care about the BQ time anymore. Ok, maybe I did, but these short little uphills were hurting me badly.

Miles 23 - 25: 7:35, 7:36, 7:50. My average pace had already crept up to about 7:25.

Then I heard a voice from behind. I recognized it without looking. It was my running partner Tim shouting, "Come on Matt! You can still do it!" I glanced back and started to run again. It hurt, but I knew I had to give it everything I could. Tim soon came up beside me and said, "I'm not passing you. You're going to do this." We pushed around the last couple of turns and even passed another runner. Tim reminded me that the Boston Qualification has the 59 second grace, so I had until 3:15:59 to qualify.

We reached the top of the downhill finish. One -half mile to go, downhill. My Garmin time was 3:11:38. I felt like I was flying. The pace was not necessarily super fast, but I was giving it all I had. My mind went back to the 800 meter track workouts. My legs would scream to stop on those. "Just slow down," they would say. But I couldn't and didn't. The marker for mile 26 went by - less than a quarter mile. I could see the banner over the finish line.

Mile 26 split was 7:57. It included the walking, but the downhill balanced it out.

The crowds started cheering as we got closer to the finish. I saw my wife and kids again. I think I was happy, but there was too much pain to realize it or show it. I was entirely focused on crossing that timing mat and of course, stopping my Garmin. Tim, who was obviously feeling a bit better than me, must have thought some more crowd cheering would help. He pumped his arms and shouted to the crowd, "The two best looking guys right here!" They loved it and cheered louder.

A few weeks ago, Tim and I had agreed that we did not need to run together in this marathon. I had said we may be together for a while, but will split up at some point. I even said, "I don't feel like we have to cross the finish line holding hands." Instead, we did not run together for almost the whole marathon until the last ten minutes. We crossed the finish line side by side.

Tim and I bringing it home.

The last two tenths of a mile were at a 7:10 pace. My official finish time was 3:15:13 for an overall average pace of 7:26. Immediately after crossing Tim said, "You did it! You got that BQ!" We hugged for a second and got our medals.

I could barely walk and laid down on the first patch of grass I found. A race volunteer said, "You don't want to do that. Keep moving." She pulled me up and Tim helped me hobble to the food tent where I grabbed a water. I slowly walked around, saw my wife and kids again and began to take it in. It was done. I had finished the whole marathon. Some water, half of a banana (shouldn't whole marathoners get a whole banana?), and two pieces of pizza later and I was feeling better.

My wife got me in line for a massage. It hurt, but helped. The best part about it was simply being able to lay down.

On the massage table.

After that I met back up with Tim and Terry, our other running partner who beat his time goal of 4 hours by about 8 minutes. He looked great.

Matt, Terry and Tim, the Whole Marathoners.

The kids who helped me through with their "Go Daddy Go!" shouting.

When I first considered attempting for a BQ I had calculated the needed pace of 7:26. I thought about that number a lot. My work computer password has 7:26 in it. I would even do a double take if a digital clock read 7:26. A couple of recent races and long runs had me thinking this pace would be attainable, maybe even beatable. But the course drive through we did the day before and the hills we discovered had me worried. I knew I needed to aim for 7:20 and hope that I'd have a little time to spare if troubles came. That is exactly what happened. I wonder if I had just run with Tim would I have felt stronger at the end. He probably had more even splits overall. Regardless, I finished with that 7:26 and that BQ.

A couple of weeks ago I was wanting to run a local 15k race while also fitting in a 20 mile long run. After conferring with my running partner, we decided to simply run the course twice: easy first, then race it. Another running friend joined us in this insanity.

Before the volunteers arrived, before the course pylons were out, and before the sun rose, we ran 9.3 miles at an easy pace. I had not brought a flash light and parts of the course through a park did not have any street lights. However, my eyes adjusted to the available light that was projected from my running partner's flashlight.

We mostly discussed our own craziness for running the course twice. I felt like it would be a good way to have a negative split on the long run. We finished the pre-run in about 1:20:00 and had enough time to hit the port-a-potties, get our timing chips, down a Gu, and get to the start.

There were definitely more runners and even water stops on the second round. We all felt pretty good and came in faster than expected. Having other runners to race against made me push it more than I would have by myself. I finished in 1:04:29 for an average pace of about 6:55.

It was fun morning. And now all thoughts turn to the marathon that is 3 weeks away. Taper time.

"Why am I at the front?" I asked myself. The half-marathon and 10k runners were at the starting line with about 5 minutes to go. "Why are we at the front?" I asked my running partner. He seemed a bit more comfortable there and said, "No one else wanted it." Immediately around us there were a few guys that looked pretty fast - shirtless guys with red headbands. We noticed another shirtless guy with headphones and red shoes. He was doing some interesting "loosening up" that reminded me of Woody Harrelson's character in the movie White Men Can't Jump.

My wife and I had tentatively planned a camping trip this weekend and I wasn't even going to run this race. But plans changed and Friday night I found myself at Omega Sports registering and texting my running partner, Tim, to let him know I'd be there. We had both pre-run the course a few weeks earlier and were well aware of the hills throughout and especially in the last two miles.

Knowing I am aiming for a BQ at a November marathon, Tim said, "McMillan calculator says to run a 3:15 marathon you should be able to run a 1:32:29 (7:04 pace) half-marathon. I say we go for it." I had done the pre-run at about a 7:41 pace. My half-marathon PR was at a 7:26 pace. On a recent tempo run I had struggled to do 3 miles at 7:00. "7:04?" I questioned myself. "Could it be done?"

There was no countdown. Instead, the seconds before the start had the guy who knew how to use the bull horn showing the town mayor how to use it, what to say and how to make the siren sound. "Runners ready! Set!" Awkward pause as the mayor found the siren button again. "Bwwoooop!"

We had already been warned to not be at the front if we planned a 9:00 pace so you don't get run over by the 5:00 pace runners. "Come on, come on," I heard behind me and I stepped aside as soon as parked cars allow. "Thanks," the guy said as he and a couple others took off past me. The downhill start had us all going fast. A few hundred yards into it I glanced at my Garmin: 5:34 pace. I wondered, "Is this what they mean by starting out too fast?"

The first mile was mostly downhill and was over in 6:31. I knew I wouldn't be able to maintain that pace and make it through the rolling hills to come and still have enough for the uphill finish. As the miles went by I saw splits such as 6:59 and 7:02. My overall average was staying just below 7:00 and I began to believe I could get that 7:04 pace goal.

I ran by myself for most of the race. Running partner Tim had gone ahead of me around mile 3. I could see him for a long time, but he was slowly increasing the gap. On the other hand, I could also see the shirtless headphone guy with the red shoes. And I was slowly decreasing the gap. The rolling hills worked to my advantage and I was just behind him at a water station. This particular water station had middle school cheerleaders doing cheers instead of holding out the cups. The shirtless runner attempted to grab a cup off the edge of the table, but instead knocked it to the ground. He glanced back at me and shrugged. And then for some reason he suddenly yanked his headphones off which sent his sunglasses flying to the ground. He didn't stop. Perhaps he was flustered about the missed drink or that I had been breathing down his neck for a while. By mile marker 11 I had passed him and only had the uphill finish to worry about.

With my average pace at 6:59, I hit the one super steep hill. I tried a shorter stride at first, but that didn't feel right. I wanted to walk it as my energy was getting low again. The Gu energy boost at mile 6.5 was loosing its effect. I passed a couple of ladies walking up (I think they were in the 10k) and uttered, "This sucks." They laughed and offered encouragement. "You can do it! Good job!" I made it up and tried to get back to my previous rhythm. That hill and the gradual incline following caused my mile 12 and 13 splits to be 7:27 and 7:12 respectively. I managed one last push up the hill to the finish. My pace for the last tenth of a mile was 6:25.

My official finish time was 1:32:00 for an average pace of 7:02. I came in 13th overall and 3rd in my age group. Tim came in two minutes ahead of me for 12th overall and first in his age group. We were both happy with our results. My wife and kids were at the finish to get pictures and congratulate us. But when we found out the awards weren't going to be for another 2 hours (a full 4 hours after the start - isn't there a 3 hour cutoff for most halves?), we headed home for showers and rest.

The kids and sweaty Daddy

Me and running partner Tim

I was already in the water with less than 2 minutes to start swimming when I realized I had forgotten to take off my wedding ring. It isn't that it is loose at all, I just didn't want to chance it coming off in a murky lake.

"Hmm, no pockets and nobody to hand it to," I thought. I quickly decided to untie my swim trunks waist and tie the ring onto that string.

"Swimmers start in 5, 4, 3, 2..."

"Waaaannnnhh," went the air horn. And the novice triathlete men with names starting K - Z were splashing away.

My main concern was to not stray too far from the course. I was also conscious of water movement and/or air bubbles around me that signified the proximity of another swimmer. Somewhere in the early part another racer experienced why you do this as my heel made contact with some part of his person. It was a pretty good whack that I felt, but didn't hurt me any. I did not stop to check on him.

The fish said to me, "Just keep swimming! Just keep swimming!"

A tight shirt does not go on easily over wet skin. I stretched and contorted it on though, continued to get the rest of my biking gear and headed for the start. The biking part is where the novice categorization really shows its meaning. Old bikes, mountain bikes and time trial bikes were all in use. I witnessed this as I passed quite a few people over the course of 17 miles.

The effects of having pushed myself for more than an hour was taking its toll as I neared the end of the ride. I performed the second transition to the running part much better by removing my helmet, changing shoes and crunching my sunglasses. I had taken them off during the ride and put them in the small of my back. When I sat to change shoes, I rocked back and heard a crunch. Luckily they were only scratched.

I grabbed the Gu packet that I had left by my running shoes and downed it as I started out on the running course. Still winded and feeling fatigued, I went up a short hill and followed the arrows. I managed to continue passing a few people as the course wound through a neighborhood. In the second mile I had been slowly creeping up on about four guys in front of me. I hoped to overtake them before the end. Suddenly I was next to and passing them. We had just started up a hill and apparently they slowed down more than I did.

"Ah, a hill," I thought. "I eat hills for breakfast." The Gu energy gel was taking effect and I was feeling better.

The finish was on a grassy downhill that allowed most people to feel good and finish strong. I was thirsty afterward, but felt pretty good. My wife and kids were there to greet me and keep the water coming. My overall time was 1:36:44, good enough for 39th place out of the 170 men.

Overall I am happy with how it went and had a good time. Probably the biggest thing I would change would be eating something sooner than when starting the run. I could have easily carried that gel with me on the bike ride and eaten it before the weariness kicked in. That would have given me more strength for the start of the run.