On April 22, 2017 after 13h:13m:33s I crossed the finish line of the Ironman Texas Triathlon. It’s crazy thinking about what the human mind can do and prior to this I was in a good place at work, and with my family.
I have always been an athlete, just not a very good one! I was mediocre at best in football, your typical high school bad boy turned Jock and who also met the girl early my high school sweetheart.
High school was a tough time, my parents went through a challenging divorce, I leaned into sports and spending time with my girlfriend.
We married after high school, had four kids, and the fairytale was in full swing.
My children were getting older and more enamored with digital media, cell phones, etc. No social media yet, but let’s just say watching the iPad/TV was more exciting than Dad.
I wasn’t doing anything exciting enough to catch their attention. I wanted to do something big, also I wanted to test myself.. It had been a while since I had really pushed the limits, and business was kicking my butt day to day. I wanted to tune up my mentality and do something to get my kids’ attention, something to inspire them if that’s even possible nowadays.
My nephew Anthony invited me to do the Katy Triathlon. At this time I could barely run for two miles without stopping, I never swam except for fun and I didn’t own a bike. This race was the shortest of the triathlon series and involved a 500m open water swim, 15-mile bike ride, and then a 5k (3-mile) run. I said “no problem” how hard could it be.
At the finish line of this race I was more than exhausted.. The swim I almost drowned in, come to find out I’m deathly afraid of open water swimming? I walked more than I ran on the run and the bike was ok. I noticed a sticker on another racer’s bike that said 70.3 Ironman…
I was curious.. There were apparently more races like this, longer, harder, what? Why in the world would anyone do this.
Then I found it. IRONMAN race 140.6. 2.4 mile swim open water, 112 mile bike ride and then you run a marathon.
The very first video of this race I pulled up was Rick and Dick Hoyt and their Ironman Kona race. If you don’t know who this father-son team is, please Google it and watch the video. What I saw was one of the greatest expressions of a father’s love I had seen. Rick is a father who’s son has a life disabling disease that prevents him from lets just say living a normal life. Rick started running races while pushing his son’s wheelchair, and one day his son told him that he feels special, he feels alive when they are racing. Not weird, not handicapped, but alive!
Rick committed to giving his son that feeling as often as he could and he set his sights on marathons and eventually the Ironman race… The race its self is a kick in the teeth, this man however pulled his son on a boat in the water as he swam, he carried his son out of the water hundreds of yards away to put him in his wheel chair, pulled him on the bike all 112 miles and then pushed him across the finish line after the marathon…..
For some reason this video hit me so hard, I wanted to do this race, I wanted to show my kids something none of us thought possible. I wanted to show how tough the mind could be and how there are no limits.
18 months later, after let’s just say a lot of training, I was at the starting line, scared to death. My greatest fear was that I might have come all this way and I don’t have what it takes to get this done. Well the fight I wanted had come, if I have to drag myself across the line after 30 hours I’m doing this. I paid a little extra to have my whole family at the finish line to give me the finishers medal, and it was an amazing day. My coach at the time was big on doing a race report after each race, below is my race report from that day.
The point to all this was that you can push yourself to the absolutely breaking point but the reason to run your race is the most important aspect of your health journey. Your family, friends and company needs the best version of you… Get to work, push the limits and do something to inspire the right people, not to gain more followers on some platform!
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IRONMAN TEXAS 2017 – My Raw & Unfiltered Race Report
April 21–22, 2017 — The Woodlands, Texas
The Day Before: Anxiety, Logistics, and Gear Everywhere
I arrived in The Woodlands around 8:30 a.m. and checked into the Marriott Waterway, the host hotel. Ironman Village was just half a mile away, so I walked over, grabbed some last-minute items, and picked up a GPS tracking device called the “Beacon” so my wife and everyone could track my race more accurately than the notoriously unreliable Ironman tracker.
Practice Swim
The practice swim area was about 1.5 miles from the village and absolutely packed. The swim entrance was nothing more than a few boat docks and a little ramp into the lake. I threw on my speed suit and dove in for a quick loop.
Water temp: 78° — definitely not wetsuit legal.
Feeling: Surprisingly good.
Just a few weeks prior, I had suffered through the Ironman 70.3 Galveston swim and hated every second of it. This practice swim felt night-and-day different. Strong. Confident. In control.
Mechanical Trouble, Because Why Not?
On the way to the athlete safety meeting, I discovered a mechanical issue with my bike. Perfect timing. Dropped it off with the mechanics and ran to the meeting.
As usual, the meeting was basically a big liability talk. But when the race director mentioned the 70 physicians and 38 nurses on staff for the race, my brain spiraled:
“Why did I think I could do 140.6 miles?”
“Have I trained enough?”
“Am I actually capable of this?”
Classic pre-Ironman panic.
The Gear Drop-Off Marathon
By 2:30 p.m., my bike was finally fixed. Time to prep the four transition bags — a logistical circus for first-timers.
Swim-to-Bike Bag
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- Helmet
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- Bike shoes
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- Injinji socks
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- Compression sleeves
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- Arm sleeves
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- Chamois cream
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- Nutrition: Bonk Breakers, almond butter, GU Endurance gels
Bike Bags
Racked in descending order. I was #1569, right in the middle. One guy put a smiley-face cup on his bag to find it faster — weird but genius.
Run Bag
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- Running shirt
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- Almond butter
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- Tailwind
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- RePlay
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- Fresh socks
By this point, it was almost 3 p.m. — and I still had to drive back to Katy to pick up the girls. So much for “taking it easy.”
When I got back to the hotel later, my Fitbit showed 11 miles walked. On my “rest day.”
My wife had everything ready to go — as usual. She never complained, even though she had her hands full. I thank God for her, the real Rock in the family!
Night-Before Chaos: Stomach Issues + Zero Sleep
We made a quick stop at Dick’s Sporting Goods for some last-minute supplies and then grabbed dinner. I chose a chicken Caesar salad and tomato basil soup.
Huge mistake.
Within 20 minutes, my stomach turned into a war zone. Nausea, nerves, overthinking, full mental spiral:
“Did I just ruin my race?”
“Am I going to puke during the swim?”
“Am I going to let my family down?”
Despite the stomach panic, I still had to prep my special-needs bags:
Bike Special Needs
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- Tailwind
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- RePlay
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- Extra bison bars and GU’s
Run Special Needs
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- GU’s
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- Almond butter
We finally got the kids settled. I prayed with the girls and tried to sleep.
I didn’t.
My son was doing Cirque du Soleil in the bed — squawks, kicks, flips, talking. I may have slept 2–3 hours total. My wife came in late, just as tired as me, but still made time to encourage me. She even recorded a sweet video for me to watch in the morning.
My stomach was still rolling. I chugged water trying to flush out whatever biological weapon that Caesar dressing contained.
Race Day: LET’S DO THIS
3:50 a.m. — ALARM. COFFEE. GO TIME.
I watched my wife’s video, ate the breakfast I prepped the day before (scrambled eggs, avocado oil, PrePlay, coffee), and started my pre-race ritual.
Goggles — check
Swim cap — check
Sandals — check
Running shoes — wh—
Why were my running shoes here???
Yep, I never dropped them off at T1. At 4:30 a.m., I sprinted back to transition. At the same moment, my son woke up. Pure chaos.
We finally left the hotel at 5:15 a.m.
Swim Start Madness
At T1, I pumped my tires, filled bottles, dropped shoes — and then realized I had put things in the wrong bags.
Another sprint back.
By the time I made it to the swim start, I was sweating, exhausted, and still wearing the clothes I needed to drop off. The national anthem started at 6:40 a.m. I finally threw the clothes into the drop bin, hit the bathroom one more time, and joined the swim line.
My goggles STILL weren’t on. I unzipped my speed suit and fished around until I found them.
In My Head – The Real Battle
“Am I going to panic?
Drown?
Get kicked in the face again?
Stop. Trust your training.
Let’s do this!”
Swim – 2.4 Miles of Controlled Panic
6:53 a.m.
I reached the water. Someone behind me started crying.
“I don’t think I can do this,” she said.
Not exactly helpful.
Into the water we went.
Within five minutes, it was chaos: 3,000 people all heading in the same direction. My plan: 10 strokes, sight. Repeat.
Then I kicked someone. Someone hit me. Goggles slipped. I swallowed lake water. My breathing spiraled. Hello, panic.
I swam over to a kayak to reset. Quick breath. Back into the fight.
I fell into a rhythm — not fast, not pretty, but moving.
When we reached the canal, everything tightened: bodies everywhere, no room, arms burning.
But finally… FINALLY… I made it to the end.
Swim Time: 1hr:26mins
As I stood up, I felt a burning sting on my ear. I’d sliced it open at some point — no idea when.
No time to worry about it. Helmet on. Socks on. Shoes on. Grabbed the bike.
Bike – Heat, Headwinds & Pure Grit (112 Miles)
As soon as I started riding, I realized just how dehydrated I was. My arms were destroyed from the swim. Neck tight. But the legs surprisingly felt good.
Nutrition Plan
Every hour:
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- 8 oz Tailwind
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- 8 oz RePlay
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- Bison bar or GU
The first half of the bike went well. I held 20–22 mph consistently. But around mile 59, the wind changed everything.
Headwind: 15–25 mph
Speed dropped to 16–18 mph.
Heat jumped into the 90s, then the 100s.
Ambulances everywhere. Athletes dropping out.
At the bike special-needs tent, volunteer #1659 sprinted my bag over, helped me refill bottles, and wished me well. Absolute legend.
The last 30 miles were a soul test — 20–30 mph headwinds. I dropped gears, tucked into aero, and just kept grinding.
Bike Time: 6hr:13mins
As I rolled into T2, I finally saw my family cheering. Massive lift.
Run – 26.2 Miles of Pain, Prayer & Perseverance
I got off the bike and my legs felt dead. A volunteer grabbed the bike and handed me my run bag. I changed quickly — new socks, running shoes, almond butter, GU’s, sunglasses — said a prayer, and stepped onto the course.
Pacing Strategy
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- Run 8:45
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- Walk 1:00
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- Repeat
Early walk breaks were a blessing.
Around mile 4, I saw my wife and the girls. That moment meant everything.
By mile 14.5, I hit my first major low. Out of nutrition. Out of my rhythm and out of gas.
At mile 18, all the ruffles were gone at the aid station. Seriously?! Chicken broth it is. Knees started screaming at mile 21. The last 5 miles were pure suffering.
But I kept fighting.
Run Time: 5hr:02min
Finish Time: 13rs:13mins (Beating my prediction)
As I approached the final chute, the only thing I could focus on was seeing my wife and the kids waiting at the finish line.
My legs were finished, my knees were done, but the adrenaline of being so close—and the joy of seeing my family—pushed me through.
The finish
Ironman Texas wasn’t just a race. It was a test and one I needed at that time. I could not have completed this without the support of my family and my wife who “Put Up” with all the training, races and everything that comes with the commitment of a race like this.
At the end of the day I recommend everyone do something like this. It doesn’t have to be a race, but something wild, something that scares you, and something that seems impossible. The confidence and impact this had stills molds my mentality today.
What a day, what an experience, and what a blessing