Rev3 Maine

I love this race! Of the dozens of triathlons I've done the past few years, none compares to the beauty of this course. A breathtaking ocean swim at sunrise, a 56 mile ride that feels like it's a weave through gorgeous New England postcards, and a half-marathon run that's flat, fast, and beautiful. I'm not sure how Rev3 found this course but it's a real gem, a diamond, as perfect as a half-ironman course could hope to be.


Last year, Rev3 Maine was my maiden voyage into the long course format. I followed a training plan to prepare for the big step up from Olympic (32 miles) to the half-iron (70.3 miles) format. I was scared, and not very confident that I'd reach the finish line. I struggled to sleep the night prior, stressing about how far out in the ocean I'd be swimming, the danger of a 1.2 mile ocean swim and the hours of cycling and running that would follow, but I pulled it off with a respectable time of 5:40. Shockingly, I won the silver in my age group, but there were only 7 competitors in my division last year. Not many guys my age are crazy enough to do these races.

The finish line in any race is a natural high; the finish line at a 70.3 mile 5+ hour race is at a whole new level. There is no doubt that you've done something special, which takes immense dedication and focus. The tougher the challenge, the more fulfilling it is.

With newfound confidence I signed up for more half-iron distance races. I started 2013 with two difficult halfs - Quassy and Norwalk. The former is downright cruel - a nonstop parade of high-grade hills that will punish any competitor relentlessly. Norwalk was not much easier and I went in too heavy and poorly trained. My times in both were depressing - 6:19 and 6:03. I started to think that age had begun to catch up with me and I'd never beat my inaugural time - downhill from here old man.

2013 has been a very tough year for me. Lots of major changes in my life and difficult personal challenges. I took advantage of a few weeks between jobs to train relentlessly, hoping to possibly get back near my Maine performance by the end of the season. I dropped weight, increased my miles in all sports and headed up to Old Orchard Beach hoping that I could halt the age slide that athletes face.

The water was a frigid 60 degrees when the horn sounded. As I entered the water and looked far into the ocean at the farthest turn buoy, I wasn't confident. "Holy shit this is a long swim...damn it's cold out here" It seemed to go on forever. It never warmed up. The sight of swimmers from later wave passing me along the way added to the dismay and dropped my confidence. I kept telling myself to stay focused, that I'd get through it. "Just finish what you started, even if your time sucks. Don't quit."

When I finally got on the bike, everything changed. I was passing other athletes in bunches and felt great! As a slow swimmer, the bike split always feels like I've been set free from a cage and can finally fly. I finished the bike split at a 20.4 mph pace over 56 miles of hills. I moved up in my division from 13th to 6th during the bike split. Perhaps I might be able to end close to the 5:40 time after all.

Second transition was quick and I was out for the run. That's always been my strength and today was no different. The challenge is to keep running, not run out of gas and walk. I felt stronger as the miles passed in the half-marathon. My nutrition plan of water, bananas and Coke kept me moving at a steady pace. The beautiful shaded running course didn't hurt either. I glanced at my watch and saw that I was tracking to blow through my prior best time, by over 10 minutes. I crossed the finish line at 5:29. My half-marathon run was at an 8:42 pace,  four minutes faster than last year. How the hell did I pull that off?

Long races like these are adventures. Your mind is consumed start to finish with your racing goals and the emotional challenges that you're facing in life at that very moment. It's an intense internal therapy session coupled with a physical challenge unlike any other. It's a very lonely yet rewarding experience where your mind and emotions work equally as hard as your legs, lungs, heart, and arms. It's full throttle on every dimension.

The time that you cross the finish line is wholly unpredictable and the demons that your emotions wrestle with for over five hours are there waiting for you at the finish line. Unfortunately, for me they're the only ones waiting at these race finish lines, hence the emotional challenge. You may have a great race and beat your time, but your demons may still win the war. But you battle on and appreciate what you've just completed. You feel rewarded that you reached another difficult goal. It leaves you motivated for the next challenge, the next battle with other competitors, your physical abilities, and your emotional ghosts.

It's an indescribable high, unlike any other in life...and fantastic therapy!