Even with the intense atmosphere of the 20th Anniversary Ironman, this time I survived the week without getting "nervous" sickness. The athletes looked stronger, the Germans, Canadians, and Aussies had a new sense of confidence, and the Big Island weather was as unpredictable as ever, threatening big swells, big winds, and relentless sun.

In the Parade of Athletes, Kat, Susanne, & I held the California flag. The talent in California is amazing, with 167 out of the worldwide 1540.  Every Ironman legend alive is here and Captain John Collins, who started Ironman 20 years ago as a bet between friends on who was toughest, is competing as well!

2 days before the race, the excitement grows. Preparing my bike, my stem breaks. I search town for parts and rebuild it.  Then I undergo a life changing experience as I get baptized in the ocean water of Kona.  This has been a desire of mine for months, to express my life in Christ and death to Sin's stronghold.  Ironman is the setting because it is the goal that has required the most dependence and expression of God in my life.  Thank you, Pastor Izzy, of the Kona Calvary Chapel.
1 day before, my swimming, biking, and running feels completely dialed in.  I'm injury free, energized, and feeling very strong.

Race morning, I once again slide into Kailua Bay, surrounded by jam-packed spectators and the best endurance athletes in the world. The sunrise lights up the turquoise waters.   Encouragements in many languages are passed amongst us.  The tension mounts as the Chaplain's prayer ends, the canon is readied, the swimmers press the line, and suddenly, the blast sends us off!

My start is great...2 rows back, right in the middle, with a thousand swimmers slapping at my feet.  I try to stay calm while protecting my face and making lane changes to keep with the best draft.  Like an ordered school of fish we move fast through the water and soon the Royal Kona is behind us.  The turn-around boat is overflowing with spectators and the 29:00 on the clock shows I'm on pace.  Heading back the swells increase but the current is not against us like in '96. I must fight off others that are becoming desperate for the good drafts, I feel the blows and the scratches on my sides.   After a recent 2.4mi swim race where cold muscles slowed me to a 1:15 finish, I was afraid of the same happening here. But the warm waters allow me to continue fully extending and maintaining streamline for a 59:57 swim split, 391st out of the water.

Excited to be on pace, I race through a 2:13 transition; water in the face, heart rate belt on, race number, singlet on while running, Laura hands me my bike (my tube had exploded during the swim but a volunteer changed it), helmet, glasses, and I'm off!   Pay 'n Save hill is lined with screaming spectators and friends.  Everything is going too well when, on the steepest section, my rear tire blows again!  The crowd sighs but then starts encouraging as I rush to change and inflate my 2nd and last spare tube.  I hear an Aussie say, "Mate, this lets the blood get to your legs, it's a blessing in disguise".  During my 200 pump strokes I realize I should be using CO2 cartridges.  5 min later the crowd cheers me back into the race.

On the Queen K, John D. passes me on his Cervelo, and, during the next 10mi, disappears into the radiating lava horizon.  The tail wind suddenly turns into a gusting crosswind at Waikailoa but I smile and remain relaxed, reflecting on the harsh wind training I'd experienced along the Santa Cruz coast.  I'm impressed that women and men around me are remaining in their aerobars.  The wind builds... like nothing I've ever felt...  the grass in pinned to the ground and we're riding on a 30 degree tilt.  The cameramen try to capture the strange sight.  The helicopters keep their distance.

The wind still builds... the 50mph gusts make bikes swerve all over the road.  The frames are whistling, and white knuckles grip the bars.  Eating, drinking, peeing, and grabbing sponges becomes dangerous.  I worry about my friends in the race.

The leaders are off pace.  The 10mi into Hawi are directly into the wind and force me to my smallest gear.  I see Chad and John flying back, 15min ahead. Jealous of their tailwind, I shift up and hurry to the turn.  My food bag is ready and transferred nicely (winner, Natasha Badman, had to turn around to get hers). I stash my food and drink and go for my PB&J when the winds hit again.  I'm locked into my aero bars, doing about 40mph (my speedometer died), suddenly, within a split second, a gust takes my front wheel, I'm going down, my left foot is clipping out to brace for impact, and another gust blows me back upright!  That was SO scary!  I'd heard of people being blow off their bikes but I couldn't imagine how it was possible.. until now.  I found out later this section claimed a few riders including my friend, Chad, only 25min earlier.  He had focussed on this race all year, overcame many setbacks, and, poised to finally win a trophy here, was now just doing what he could to finish the bike and walk the marathon in pain.

I think a 40mph crosswind is as bad as a 20mph headwind in both directions.  1996 was a cakewalk compared to this. Then, abruptly, the wind stops for a while.  My back is cooking.  I made an embarrassing mistake of not reapplying sunscreen after the swim.  My singlet also was inside-out and wouldn't cover my back.  Another rider warned, "You're going to have a nasty tan line".  The severe sunburn I got sapped energy and later made me sick.

At 75mi, a tail wind rewards us and we sail through Waikailoa.  I'm feeling   good and comfortable, but instead of accepting the great job I've done, I focus on my 5:30 bike goal.  Just when I calculate I can do it, we slam into a head wind at mile 90.  For 15mi I keep hoping it will let up (in '96 a tail wind brought us home) but watch the clock tick away instead.  Cruising down Ali'i Dr. to the applause of friends and spectators I realize I'll have to make up 12 1/2 minutes in the marathon.   Unfortunately, I've already dipped into my marathon reserves.

I coast in, feet on pedals, and jump from my bike as volunteers catch it.  I race through transition in 1:41, donning socks & shoes, bagging my helmet, and grabbing my food and hat. I'm at 6:42:30 and need a 3:17:30 marathon.

After descending into the pit I finally fix my singlet, get water and ice, and recalculate my pace.  I see Gaylon, a photographer for a Christian magazine taking pictures of me. This encourages me.  But, just like in '96, I'm playing catch-up and maintaining 7:30 pace (instead of the 7:45 pace I planned).  But it creeps to 8min pace as my stomach gets nauseous.  I can't eat the GU and Cliff Shots I'm supposed to.  I drink constantly and keep ice in my hat.  My legs and feet feel good but I'm hot and sick.   I see my friends along Ali'i and their words help me up the hills.  Especially the race announcer's surprising comment, "We know this guy, it's Troy Soares from Grass Valley, he qualified in Lubbuck and was just baptized on Thursday here in Kona!"  The crowd loved it!

I see my friend, David, on Paloni before the lava fields and run my last sub 8 minute mile.  At mile 12 I start walking aid stations.  All the fun is gone and the race has become painful.  I try water and then Race Day but neither helps my stomach.  At the Natural Energy Labs I wonder why any of my friends want to do this race!  I push the mile 19 hill to keep 9 min pace but now am overheated despite a low heart rate.  I see Kevin, Susanne & Kat.  They're smiling!  Mile 21 is the worst.  I walk like a zombie, ignoring the aid station.

Gathering my senses, I call on the Lord for strength and do 10min miles.  At mile 24 I ask God for strength and successfully run the entire hill.  I go all out on the last downhill mile, desperate to break 10:30.  I know the power of the crowd will get me there... just block out the pain.  The amazing Ironman finish &   exuberant crowd is a blessing to see.  10:29 and I am finally done!

This was the toughest race I've done.  I know I was "powered by Jesus" or I'd still be out there walking.

The conditions were very tough.  Kat, Susanne, and Kevin did a terrific job.   Chad showed incredible fortitude.  And John Dougery's 9:45 was an amazing, well-planned race!

My legs are recovering quickly.  I'm sure I can correct the stomach problems so I can use the full potential of my legs next time.  I think I'll practice with some other Ironmans and set my sights on breaking 10 hours at Hawaii Ironman 2000.

Thanks for your prayers, calls, and encouragements!
NBC will air the '98 Hawaii Ironman on Dec. 12th, 1pm Pacific Standard Time.