^WHERE:  Marina Green, San Francisco, CA

^{PLACE & TIME:} 

11th, 2:53:02 (34:19-1:19:34-53:24)

^DISTANCE:

I arrive at the Marina Green transition near 4am.  It’s dark, chilly, and I pause for a moment along the sea wall when I see the ominous rays of the Alcatraz lighthouse.  The Alcatraz as a prison was something to stay away from, the beacon from the lighthouse was a warning to keep clear, and the mile of dark cold water seemed to whisper, “You stay there where it’s safe”.  I pause to say a quick prayer.  A little bolder I go back to preparations in the dark, while announcements are made that the buses are leaving soon for the boat dock.

This is truly an intimidating start to a race.  There’s not much of the usual happy greetings and laughter.  We’re trying to see where our gear and bib numbers are in the dark.  We’re thinking about the bus dropping us off at a boat which will drop us off somewhere out there in the darkness and then we have to find our way back.  Are we all crazy?

The guy next to me looks up very politely and comments that it’s good to see another “brother”.  His name is Andy and he’s out from Georgia and obviously feeling the heavy intimidation factor of this event.  I tell him about FCA and that God will help us through.  And we’ll help each other just knowing we’re here together.  He’s very thankful and it helps me, too.  It’s great to be used by God.

My biggest concern is the cold.  Yesterday I was freezing with 3 layers on just sitting at the booth.  I’ll be wearing a rash guard under my race suit under my wetsuit and booties and a neoprene cap.  For the bike I’ll wear my FCA-E warm-up jacket, long-fingered gloves, socks and a beanie under my helmet.  Since I’ll be putting my socks and cycling shoes on and running in them, I won’t leave them on the pedals like usual.  Unclipping them from my pedals in the dark, I cut my finger.  Small but bleeding a lot.  I hold a paper towel on it, grab my wetsuit and board the bus.

Sitting on the charter bus, at a table for 4, I realize there’s no room to put my wetsuit on as I hoped.  With my extra sensitivity to cold, I’ve found it’s important to stay warm beforehand... if I get chilled it’s much harder to get back to normal.  Here I am wearing only a rash guard and tri-suit while everyone else is in sweatshirts, hats – warm clothes.  The bus is cold and the ride towards the Bay Bridge seems to take forever.  I’m getting cold but there’s nothing I can do but join in conversation with my table friends and continue holding my finger to stop the bleeding...  which suddenly becomes more important as I think of the possibility of attracting sharks!

I jump off the bus and start putting my wetsuit on immediately, zip it up, don the neoprene cap and booties, my running shoes and I start running back and forth on the dock while the other athletes sit calmly in small groups, some listening to IPods, others just trying to pass the hour before the boat leaves.  Even in the full suit, I’m not warming up, but I am getting some funny looks.  I just smile.  Now I start doing strides (short sprints) and this does the trick.  I start warming up and then we board the boat.

Fortunately I find my FCA-E TeamMates on the middle deck and we wait together, telling stories… the best of which was David Blackman’s bungee jumping tale.  I see Andy, from Georgia, and invite him over as we have a team prayer.  Now the bay is becoming visible and the boat pulls away.  It points towards Alcatraz in the distant gray and the inevitable jump into the sea awaits us.

I make my way through the mass of triathletes, mostly quiet, and climb a couple flights to the ship bridge (wheel-house) where the captain is.  Wow, what an incredible view of the expanse of water ahead with “the Rock” smack dab in the center.  In front of the bow I see a seal splash... and then a porpoise off to the left!  An ultraswimmer, Sue Fray, is giving instructions over the PA about navigating the currents by sighting off different City landmarks.  Then Julie Moss hands the mic to me for the “morning’s invocation” (prayer).  If most of the athletes are anything like me right now, they are nervous about this crazy swim.  I start by saying, with a slight chuckle, “Lord, we want to take a moment to pray… like we’ve never prayed before.”  Surely many think it’s not that dire of a situation, but I know it is one of those moments when we remember how to pray again.  Besides thanking God for the calm seas and asking for protection, I also encourage everyone to address anything heavy on their heart, set on taking care of it after the race, and swim with focus on the purpose that each has for doing this race.  I know for me, “why do you race?” today means walking my talk, truly racing like someone that does care more about what God says rather than what the stopwatch says. Having the prayer for the masses behind me and knowing that God will make it right even if I didn’t say it right, is the biggest relief of the day for me.  Suddenly the rest of the race doesn’t seem so hard.

The boat has stopped.  It’s eerie but the invisible sun is shooting rays onto the San Francisco shoreline and it’s beautiful.  The water is fairly calm.  Looking through the windows we see the race is underway as the elites, far below, start their escape, churning through the dark water.  Wow, soon we’ll be herded out the doors.  The lines form and we shuffle along down stairs, around corners… and then the shouts of “Go, Go, Go” get louder and louder.  The volunteers are like lieutenants forcing parachuters out of the plane. “Go! Jump!  Next!”  And there it is, the open door, my body says, “Wait a minute” but I know haste is critical or else 1000 athletes will never all get into the water. I smile at RD Terry Davis and fall towards the frothy salt water.

Plunging below I notice quickly that it’s not bad.  It’s not shocking.  I feel light and eager to swim fast.  Inside I’m smiling.  Is it my warm outfit?  Adrenaline? Or did God just make it comfortable for me.  It’s great.  One guy stops and takes a picture.  Is he racing?  I set out on a slightly aggressive heading.  Too far to the right, and one can get sucked out towards the ocean.  Too far to the left and it takes longer to get there.  The kayakers are doing an awesome job.  There is one by me constantly and they try to herd us in an arc towards the shore.  (Although Robin said, from shore, it looked like people swimming everywhere!)

The kayakers curtail my aggressive path slightly, which is good because it takes longer than expected to get across the channel.  It just looked so close.  I stop next to a woman and say “Good job” and she smiles.  I wanted to make sure she wasn’t in trouble.   The Golden Gate Bridge is looming to our right.  I start getting cold and tired but now I can see the stairs that Tri-California built and the bright yellow shirts of the volunteers.  I’m almost there!  Periodically a swimmer goes flying by me, making me look really slow.  I guess some fast swimmers were in the back of the boat.  The timing mats at the doors of the boat will capture everyone’s right time.

The last 400 yds takes forever, but finally I’m very happy to climb out of the bay...  A friend told me later that he watched some swimmers struggling against the current which had switched direction.    The hardest part is over.  Robin, Anna, and Ariel are there to cheer for me and I’m so happy.  My transition takes a long time as I take off all the neoprene and don socks, jacket, gloves, beanie.  Finally I’m on the road and the bike is feeling good… I don’t feel the soreness I’ve had earlier in the week.  The bike course is very cool.  Hard twisting climbs, gorgeous views of the Bay, ocean and Golden Gate Bridge, and screaming descents.  I feel like I’m going faster than the 18mph my Garmin indicates.  We descent down past the Cliff House to Ocean Beach and ride all the way down to the Zoo.  It’s early enough that most of the City is asleep still and it’s wide-open roads with a slight head-wind.  We come back with a tail-wind but I’m still working so hard and not feeling really comfortable.  I’m so glad I put all these clothes on.  I’m perfect except sometimes my bare legs are cold.  I can’t believe how some of the girls are wearing nothing but 2-pieces.  I’m just a wimp when there’s a chill I guess.  We go into Golden Gate Park and it’s beautiful.  I’ve been here before but I always see new things.  Like a mountain waterfall!  How do they do that?  Cool!  Coming out I see David Blackman and Rich Keiser.  Love the bright FCA-E outfits.  The hills are so tough but I’m almost done.  I fly through the corners, remembering the course from 2 years ago, and pass people on the descents.  I race into transition, glad to be done, and take off my warm layers for the run.

Heading out I see Anna and Ariel smiling with their “High-5’s” ready.  I love it!  I get both of them and I can hear a big “Ahhh” from the crowd.  I love my 3 girls.

Wow, my legs are dead.  A girl goes by with a fast turn-over and “Finchamp” on her suit.  That’s a cool name to have when you’re fast enough to be a champ.  But I’ll never see her again.  Wait, how many years have I done this sport and I keep forgetting that it takes a mile sometimes before it feels better.  Sure enough it does get better.  I see Finchamp ahead and think, “You never know what might happen... always keep trying”.  I try to squeeze out every bit of forward speed I can get.  Climbing the stairs up to the GG Bridge I catch Finchamp and surge on.  The run course is cool, challenging, constantly turning.  Over, under, and up more stairs.  I remember someone said “800 stairs” or something.  Wow, what lies ahead?

We’re on dirt trails, high above the shoreline rocks below.  It’s beautiful.  I’m so winded I actually pray that God will keep me fully conscience so I can take in the sights as well as racing hard.  Left, right, up, down, more stairs.  Finally we’re on the road with the bikes, flying downhill.  Kiet Tran is taking pictures and says, “Is that you, Troy, you’re doing great!”  Even though I didn’t consider myself doing great, him saying it makes me feel like I am.  And feelings can really help your running.  We fly down more trails and stairs to the beach far below.  I pass a relay runner and say, “your taking the descent great!” She says, “I have short legs” I laugh thinking that since she can’t fall far, she’s more daring.

Boom, we hit the beach and it’s 200yds of deep sand.  But I run like it’s hot lava… quick, light steps… and it works.  Now for the legendary “sand ladder” back up.  It’s a large rope ladder with small logs for rungs, laid down on a steep sand hill.  Wow, it’s tough.  The calves are screaming.  I want to walk slowly but I’ve heard about this for 15 years and now I have my chance... so I’m not going to waste it with a medium effort.  I push with everything I’ve got - pulling on the hand cable at times.

Finally at the top.  Pushing onward while recovering.  I see 2 men and a woman ahead and plan to pass them by just looking down and going fast and hoping the next time I look up I’m behind them.  Works well.  I pass the girl and start heading down.  She’s still right behind me.  She has long legs and I realize that makes for a fast downhiller.  I step it up and finally pull away. (Turned out it was Kathy Winkler, a top age-grouper and a really nice gal who came by the FCA booth later to compliment my pass.  Watch for her in the Ultraman this year!)  Those many steps we climbed earlier are really fun going down.  They are the right distance apart.  But going fast requires a constant focus – no blinking.

2 miles to go and all flat.  Now I start to feel pain in my left heel... the foot that bothered me for 10 yrs.  I guess this course was extra hard for it.  But I want to push hard so that I can grab Anna’s hand at the finish and enjoy a slower run in with her.  I look for landmarks ahead.  For each one my goal is to think of a blessing from God and thank God for it when I reach it.  And then surge for the next landmark.  I thank Him for my family and wife.  For my foot which He turned-around last year.  And others...

Hitting the main Marina Blvd, I can see the finish area, closer than I expected.  Terrific.  Push, push.  I turn onto the grass and wave to the spectators... looking for my family.  There’s Anna, ready to run.  It’s wonderful, she takes off so fast and we finish together.  Wow, we did it.  Thanks, God!  That is an awesome course, incredible race, and the volunteers were everywhere doing a great job.  Our whole team finished well and I was especially glad to see Stan Smith’s finish since he was extra concerned about getting through it and yet remained so calm and confident beforehand.  I know he would credit the Lord with that calmness.  And now, on to make right some of the things heavy on my heart…

Go David!

Go CJ!

Go Rich!

Go Stan!

Go Matt!

Go Kathy!

Fun at Alcatraz!