So the swim was about to start, I was in the third wave… Yellow Hat. I said my goodbyes to poor Nancy who was already looking like a drowned rat and I made my way into the lake. Sometimes in a race it's the little things that make you happy. I was happy that the cold water didn't make my face hurt like it would have done open water swimming in England at this time of year and I was happy to be finally under way after all the months of training. This race was by far my biggest challenge of the year and I had been feeling nervous about it for days.

The gun went off and within one minute I was in full panic mode, water in my mouth gasping for breath, and trying to dodge the quagmire of flaying arms and feet. We bumped and jostled in the water - you'd think that with a whole lake to swim in you could find at least three feet of clear space, but no - I concentrated as much as I could on my stroke and my form and trying to find a similar-paced swimmer I could draft off. As usual, my drafting efforts were pretty ineffective. They say to get your hands into the bubbles from the kick of the swimmer in front of you, but once I find someone's bubbles, I'm usually either on top of their feet or they're leaving me behind. I went into a side stroke and tried to relax. I got some breaths, attempted to gain what rhythm I had and went back to work. I swam on and on, and things seemed to be working OK. I could feel the rain hitting the back of my head and I was also having problems sighting due to the choppy water. To be honest, I was thinking more about the bike than the swim at this stage as the weather conditions really concerned me.  

By the 1/2 mile mark I was pretty much alone. I was swimming a reasonable line or so it seamed even though the strokes were beginning to get much harder as we turned directly into the wind. Briefly the rain stopped and I could see what I thought was the whole world out in front of me. After a really, really long time, I approached the beach and lurched into the upright position. For the first few steps I felt wobbly, I hit the exit ramp and the long run from the lake to the transition area. Bloody Hell!! This was really hard going and a rude thing to make a tired swimmer do!

There was lots of cheering as I came into Transition 1 and I was really grateful for this especially given the conditions the supporters had to endure. As I tried to change out of my wet suit and into my cycle gear, I quickly realized that I couldn't feel my hands, they were useless, and my arms were worse, they felt like pieces of wood. After the struggle I managed to get my shoes on, did a double check to make sure I had everything and headed out for the bike. Again, the spectators were great shouting encouragement although I think some mistook the length of time I had spent getting ready for the bike as a sign of exhaustion.

The bike course was very familiar to me as I had cycled most of it many times during the month of August when Nancy and I had been in the area on vacation. It was a two-loop course which had riders going out and around the lighthouse then back in to town, via an out and back to Gin Beech and then around Gosmans Dock. The course would normally be described as rolling, fast and breathtaking but care had to be taken today for it would have been very easy to become a cropper / wipeout in the wind and rain.

After ½ a mile on the bike you hit a hill. Not huge but with the panic of the swim still in my head, water in my eyes and ears and the blood still in my arms my HR shot up to 185 pretty fast (or maybe it had just stayed there from the swim). I took some deep breaths on the decent and tried to find my rhythm. It was very hard to see as the rain / hale hurt my face, arms and legs upon contact. It wasn't long before a few competitors slowly pasted me. What?! I couldn't believe people were passing me and so soon!?

I planned on averaging at least 18 miles per hour and downing two bottles of sports drink, two bottles of water and 2-3 gels, so that kept me busy trying not to drop my bottles or my gels. Then there was the pedaling, the passing, the being passed the shifting, the trying to forget about the conditions and the avoiding of dead animals on the roadside. No time to be bored and even if hard to see, the scenery was still magnificent. I was a little disappointed that at the turnaround by the lighthouse on the first loop, my average speed was only 16.9 mph, but I hoped that the tail wind on the back half would help make up the time. Did it ever! I was flying. At the steep, straight downhill on Route 27, I crouched low over my aero-bars and freewheeled down the grade, touching almost 40 mph at one exhilarating point. I was having a ball, and my legs felt pretty strong. I was trying to hold back a bit and conserve some leg power, since I had to this all again on the 2^nd loop and after that I was going to have to run a very hilly13.1 miles which quite honestly was frightening the life out of me.

Making the turn onto East Lake Drive, I still felt great with the wind behind me, the rain was still causing problems and we had to do our best to avoid the partially flooded roads. The remainder of the 1^st loop I still felt strong and seeing Nancy cheering at the turnaround spurred me on further.

The 2^nd loop was pretty much the same, eating, drinking, pedaling, the passing, the being passed the shifting, the trying to forget about the conditions and the avoiding of dead animals on the roadside. The road conditions had deteriorated on the 2^nd loop leaving the police no other option than to close East Lake Drive as it was now severely flooded and dangerous. Unfortunately, this meant that the cycle would be a few miles short which was a shame but it is always better to be safe than sorry.  The last few hills on the 2^nd loop really bit into my whole body as I pushed as hard as I could. Despite the conditions, I actually had a reasonable ride with my speed averaging around 20 mph.

Coming into Transition 2 I was concerned. I was worried about the run to begin with and that maybe I had gone out to fast on the bike. Was I on my way to coming completely unstuck?

Again, the support was amazing although Nancy was nowhere to be seen, maybe she had got bored of the rain and gone to dry off somewhere warm. I wouldn’t have blamed her if she had. I also arrived earlier than expected due to the bike being cut short so I didn’t really expect to see her anyway.

I re-racked my bike and quickly changed from my wet cycle gear into my wet running gear which on a nice day would have been dry. I then made my way to the run start. Prior to race day, the run had me worried the most. 13.1 miles! And there were hills everywhere. Most race organizations seem to want to make courses easy fearing they will scare away participants. Not Event Power. They choose a route that was awful, and I mean that as a compliment. The course is two loops which wind past Fort Pond and through some of Montauk’s most scenic residential neighborhoods. Then come the hills, with a hill called "murder hill" and then two out and backs into a very hilly area aptly named "the pits".  I remember thinking of murder hill as it was so long and steep, was I seeing double or is it really two hills?

On the first loop I felt I was going very slowly but not that much slower than others. I kept my steady pace breathed deeply and took in water. No cramps, in the legs or stomach. My legs were tired but I felt good. Energy to burn and I would need it all. After 3 miles the heavens opened for what was to be the heaviest downpour of the day. Huge lightening bolts were striking the surrounding hills and within a minute or two we were running in knee deep water. By the time I reached the hills the roads resembled rivers and running was becoming almost impossible. It was raining so hard I could barley see, flash flooding everywhere, even on roads that seemed like there wouldn't be any water were under inches. Everybody was laughing with each other about the dire conditions; some even found it to be spiritually moving. I just thought it was crazy, in all the years I have been running, I have never experienced anything quite like this before. 

Towards the end of the first 6 mile lap I was mentally starting to fade. My God! I have to do this again, I thought to myself as a few people passed me. “The bonk” was coming, I could feel it; my stomach was now hurting, doing summersaults. Then I saw Nancy jumping up and down in the rain, excited to see me. This lifted my spirits, I took a gu 70 kcals maybe, as I came through the finish area I grabbed a big cup of water, walked, and drank it all. Picking up the pace again I started to feel ok, the rain stopped and I was going well now. With a good blue print of the run course burned into my head I attacked the second lap and the last 6 miles of the race. The hills bit again, my stomach still hurt but I dug deep. Around this turn, up that hill and I was on the finishing straight, I glanced out over the swim course and thought I swam today? It seamed so long ago. Entering the finish was an exhilarating experience, I felt so happy to be finishing but also very grateful to those who had marshaled and supported the race for the last 5 ½ hours in the wind, rain and hail. I made a point to thank every volunteer as I passed by. I crossed over the finish line and realized I had run a negative split on the run, I was amazed!!