News Flash - 2020 Sucked!

I have always contended that I keep a blog mostly for myself. I let those who are willing take a peek if they so desire but I guess what this thing, this blog represents is a diary of my athletic approaches, and this diary is open to the public.

Wow! What a stinker! Flatten the curve. Social distance. Wash your hands. Wear a mask. Stay away from friends and family. In my case, don't see your parents. Cancer. Cancer care. A postponed wedding. You work in retail, whoops. And so on. And so on. And so on...

The afore mention list is a very rough outline of what my 2020 looked like. But there were additional things missing as well, one of them being racing and the motivation to train when there is no finish line. The finish line for me being the toeing of a start line.

This morning as I sit here, a local blend coffee in hand, Kai at my feet, it's cloudy, damp, 37 degrees and as with a fair amount of January mornings, there is a light fog around the area of the Spokane River and across Riverside State Park. Not exactly a morning calling me to hit the trails on the old mountain bike or to get Kai out on those very same trails for a light jog as she chases down the local squirrels and chipmunks, me with a constant eye out for one of the many deer who have taken up residence in the safety of the park. For it is these deer that can give Kai "a run for her money" as I'm not in any kind of shape for an early season interval workout and sprint across the park while screaming and cursing at the dog. With apologies to any parents with small children within ear shot of course. But anyway...

I should get out today. There is so much to be thankful for. No snow so a light ride through the park will do me all kinds of good. There is no such thing as bad weather just bad clothing. Hey, look on the bright side. It's all about perspective.There are many out there who would love to be in my situation, who would love to just be able to go for a light spin. Feel the wind in their face and soak in the beauty of a park that is literally a stones throw from my front door. A stones throw on a good day that is. My shoulder is old and a bit tired.

So 2021 is here. Happy New Year! But for me at least, the new year is not some strange Line of Demarcation, some sort of finish line if you will, it's just that, a new year. And for me it is a time to reflect, a time to celebrate wins, and a time to learn.

As mentioned, I keep this blog thingy as a diary for use in reflection. This morning I came across part of an entry from 2016 that reminded me not only of some of what I had lost in the calendar year of 2020 but it reminded me of the good that is out there as well. It is, it's still there, the good in people, the passion we hold, the desire to be better even if the measuring stick is some silly little race we like to call Ironman. 

The outtake from that July, 2016 post is as follow:

After all these years and all these races, why do I continue to sign up?

For this, I drift back to Ironman CDA 2003 and 2004 while standing on Sherman Avenue in Coeur d' Alene Idaho. I expected to see ripped, superhuman athletes pushing themselves further than any average person could ever conceive of doing, which I did.

But I also saw so much more.

I saw average people; Butchers, Bakers and Candlestick Makers, young and old, thick and thin, all accomplishing something they might have never before dreamed of. I saw athletes cheering on athletes. Bystanders cheering on total strangers, sometimes running along with an athlete they didn’t even know because he or she looked like they needed some extra support. I saw a racer, her husband walking with her, children in tow. She was bawling her eyes out because as she stated "I just can't do it and I'm letting us all down." I watched as her husband walked with her, encouraged her and gave her a gentle push only because he knew something in that moment she could no longer see. I took note of her race number so I could later check the results. She did finish - for all of them. I saw all that is good in people playing out on that one day in that one race.

Standing alone in a sea of people that had gathered on Sherman Avenue, I watch, I got chills and I cried.

Maybe it was the bigness of the Ironman, the almost-insurmountability of doing it while trying to maintain a job, or a family, or any semblance of a life. Maybe it was the dedication, not only of the athletes, but of their friends and families. The dedication evident in the signs they hold and the pride in their eyes as they recount endless stories about getting their athlete and their entire team to the start line. Proud of the fact that they were out there on the day too, as part of a team who picked up the groceries or cleaned the house or did any one of a thousand things throughout the year so their athlete could get a six hour ride or two hour run or both. Maybe it was all of this combined that had gotten them to this exact moment.

Whatever it was, it stayed with me and the next year I found myself again standing on Sherman avenue at 11:55 PM. The last hour of any Ironman always moves me. Again, I got goosebumps. Again, I cried.

Well fingers crossed, vaccine in tow, I hope we can gather again this year. I pray I am once again standing alone on Sherman Avenue in a sea of people. A crowd of people who have come to watch as dreams come true. I also look forward to getting back to a start line, back to what for me will be an old friend but with a newness. New goals, a new excitement and new PRs as I feel as though I have retired the old. 

Photo By Kelli Dahmen

So here's to old passion anew, gathering in what I would call some sort of normality and of course a trip down the aisle with my beautiful bride. That is if she will still have me, some days can be a bit touch and go. And yes, I plan to cry, not because she won't have me but because she will.

Cathedrals?

What makes a patch of land - sacred?

What makes simple spaces - hallowed?

Photo by Bootsy

Plots of earth on their own hold no meaning.

We assign their value and designate their worth, through memory and history.

Photo by Renee Guerrero

It's why we call them shrines.

It’s because there is something spiritual in the air and ground.

Something divine that stirs the soul.

It's in Penticton - 

It’s in Madison - 

Photo by Tristan Brown

In Arizona - 

Photo by Bootsy

On Sherman Avenue in Coeur d'Alene Idaho -

Photo by Kelli Dahmen

And on Alihi Drive - 

But in a sport that is different, so solitary

There is common ground to be found here in the cathedrals of this sport.

Photo By James Richman

On courses that breath with history and reverent, spirit and soul.

In a way they host our awe, hold our memories and allows us to be moved by the memory of what we might see, over what we may expect. 

Only church is church. But these events, these arenas, these cathedrals, Lord, these places can feel like home.

Why COVID? Why?

So I've been away from triathlon a while now; a long while. The last time I raced was October 8th., 2016. In July of that year a low speed bike crash left me with a torn labrum in both shoulders. After five shoulder surgeries over the course of two and a half years the shoulders are back in working order. By the way, two and a half years of shoulder surgeries, accompanied by three years of PT left me longing for normality. Or what I perceived as my normal anyway.

Then I was handed a game changer.

One Sunday in late February of 2018 as I dressed for a morning run I began to have chest pain. As I bent down to tie my shoes I began to have what I would call significant chest pain. I wandered around the house for a few moments convinced it would clear. Now Bootsy had left a little earlier for her run so this gave me time to do what boys do, time to think it's a good idea to head out on a run to "shake it off". To rub a little dirt on it if you will. I ran the sum total of about three blocks before images of Bootsy finding me face down in a ditch started playing in my head. So I turned around, took my chest pain and went home.

Of course I didn't say anything to Bootsy about what was truly going on. Again this is what boys do, or in this case what boys don't do. The next morning I had an appointment with my PT. After spending huge volumes of time in my PT's office Mike had figured out when things other then my shoulders are ailing. I told him I had chest pain. He immediately asked me to get up off the table and head to Urgent Care. I of course balked so he then told me of a very fit local runner who had recently gone out for a run when sudden onset of chest pain during the run had him in heart surgery within the hour. I took heed and headed to Urgent Care. I of course made a few phone calls along the way.

After a few tests at Urgent Care I was sent to E.R. Now Bootsy was working out and away from her phone so as I sat in my car I text her "On the way to E.R. Please call". Full disclosure: I was scared! Like shaking scared. Can I/should I even drive myself to E.R. kind of scared. My mind was racing. When the Urgent Care doc said I needed to go to E.R. and to do it NOW, it left me in a bit of a fog and the only thing I could think was "What about Bootsy?" There was so much I needed to say. And if this thing would have gone south it could have become, so much I should have said. That's the part that shook me most, the should have's.

Tests, tests and more tests. Cardiologists, nurses, and support staff all working for a diagnoses. And I couldn't work because we didn't know.

Now it takes time for a new patient to get in to see a cardiologist and we were not willing to wait for test results for what in my opinion was way to long to see the cardiologist so we took an appointment with the physician assistant.

Bootsy and I both went for what we thought would be a meeting with physician assistant but when the cardiologist walked through the door I knew he was not there to deliver the news we were hoping for. The diagnoses was a thoracic aortic aneurysm in what is the worst possible place and it's sizable. Thank goodness Bootsy was there. My mind was immediately overwhelmed as I drifted away from the all to many details to ponder what my new normal may now look like.

My head was swimming. I wanted to get to the car so Bootsy could breakdown for me what just happened. I was on overload. As we left the cardiologists office he said "Please stop by the front. You will need to make an appointment to see a thoracic surgeon." I had no idea what this meant in that moment other then I was just told I needed to be prepared for open heart surgery.

So today I'm walking around with this thing, this thoracic aortic aneurysm. We monitor it closely but it's a large aneurism and I have been told that one day it will grow to the point where it will need to be fixed. But until then there are restriction. No contact sports of any kind and no short course racing are just a few don'ts. The stress of short course racing causes an increase in blood pressure during the period of elevated heart rate. But I can race 70.3 as long as I keep a close eye on heart rate during activity, training and racing. One of the frustrating things about the condition is the professionals will tell you what you can't do but they won't necessarily tell you what you can do. So no one is willing to say if I can get back to full iron distance training and racing. I feel that I have races left in me and multiple race venues I want to either race for the first time or return to.

So why this long winded "poor me"? Why now with all that is going on in the world? Or in this time of COVID, what is not going on? With all racing and so many other activities being cancelled across the globe it's simple, I am missing the community.

Recently in my memories on a social media platform the following video popped up. Which is how this post got started. So I watched and well....

I miss it. I miss iron distance training and racing. I miss everything that goes along with it. I miss just being out there, the fitness, and the camaraderie. In this time of COVID-19 I hardly think I'm alone in the missing it part.

Riding around our neighborhood and through Riverside State Park is both respite and torture. I love seeing people out and about, training, walking the dog or just talking to a neighbor over the fence in the back yard; it reminds me what life was like before COVID-19. But I can only imagine there are plenty of people for whom, seeing families playing in their yards, folks going for a jog or walking their dogs can send them plunging into a spiral of loneliness.

There is a bit of irony in the fact that I may have not been happy with my fitness level or lack there of before the pandemic hit, but I was enjoying things away from my fitness lifestyle and new found distractions from health concerns. But with the changes in community due to the pandemic, I too have felt some emptiness and loss of my home acutely.

Unfortunately, I am one of those who are driven by the race calendar. I need a point on the calendar to focus on, something to drive me. Without it I flounder, to say the least. It's been hard to or it has been easy not to get out. I have days where I sit on the couch in lieu of getting out and enjoying all the beauty the Pacific Northwest has to offer. As I sit I wonder how much longer can this go on? Can this continue for months - a year? No one knows.

Bootsy has been very careful in pushing me to do things that I myself would consider constructive. She continues to make suggestions almost daily but she also understands that I can sometimes step into my "walled city" so she treads lightly, as do I. When I get "the look" from her I begrudgingly realize I should "stop in my tracks for fear of walking on the minds I'd laid."

When might there be a return to normal? Who knows. Or if you do know might I suggest a trip to Vegas? Or to a virtual Vegas in this case I guess.

From battles on the front lines to social distancing from friends and family, to which in my case include my parents who lets just say aren't as young as they used to be, COVID-19 has caused a massive shake-up of our daily lives.

After second-guessing everything from hugging our loved ones to delaying travel, there is one big question that everyone is likely to think about: will we ever get back to the status quo? The answer currently is not very clear-cut.

(And no, because I did not mention "wearing a mask" it does not mean I do not believe in wearing a mask. I wear a mask. Let's just leave it at that.)

So what's next? Bootsy and I are signed up for IMCDA 70.3 rescheduled for September 6th. but honestly I don't see a path where it could be held this year. Also we have received communication from someone who works in conjunction with Ironman and he has cautioned against signing up for any Ironman races on this years schedule. Stating that in his opinion "IRONMAN is done for 2020 and possibly 2021."

If IMCDA 70.3 is a go this year, I have strong doubts I would be comfortable enough to toe the line with the current COVID trends around the nation and in North Idaho.

Bootsy and I have had discussions as to whether or not next years IMCDA is something we should take a look at. But will it even be staged next year? If Ironman St. George is canceled this year will that push IMCDA back a year? The purpose for the rotating race venues, amongst other reasons, is to serve as the North America Championship race.

Lots of "I don't knows" which may mean we are hesitant to throw down a bunch of cash on a 2021 race in hopes that things return to "normal" and we would be delivered a race day experience that is worth the price of admission.

I also would need to address health concerns. As a proud member of Team Ironheart there are avenues available to put me in touch with one of the worlds leading cardiologists as it pertains to long course racing. When I feel travel is a good option I will seek her opinion on any and all risks involved with the stress of training and racing long course at this time.

So for now everyone is forced to look at this in a different way. We can't ignore it.

As The Sun Sets on Ironman Coeur d'Alene.

On June 20, while in Coeur d'Alene, two days out from the 2008 Ford Ironman Coeur d'Alene, we take a walk around town. This is our second attempt at IMCDA and consistent with our previous visits, the people of Coeur d'Alene are exceedingly warm and friendly. Coeur d'Aleneians, I notice, appear remarkably content, relaxed and smart enough not to take life to seriously. By all appearances, they manage quite nicely without the DEFCON 4 level of stress the rest of America has successfully instilled into our most mundane of days.  

From the town center, we walk up Tubs Hill where we can see kids playing America's pass time, climbing to a quick peak where we can get a view of the swim course and the lake beyond. Here we find ourselves concluding, "Uh, this works". We then cut past the ballpark and in front of The Coeur d'Alene Resort which like the rest of the city have been completely infused with Ironman.

"Life is a series of hellos and goodbyes. I'm afraid it's time for goodbye again."


On June 12th of this year, Ironman/the WTC and Coeur d'Alene's Chamber of Commerce announced they would be ending their working relationship for putting on a full distance Ironman in Coeur d'Alene Idaho each summer. The 2017 Ironman Coeur d'Alene would be the "Sunset" addition. This August will be the final running of IMCDA.

When I read Ironman Coeur d'Alene would be no more I was heartbroken. After all it is my hometown race and more importantly to me, it is my first love. We all, I would hope, know the special place in our hearts we hold our first love.

I get it. Ironman (Corp) is a for profit business and in business when the model no longer fits it's time to move on. Sadly, at least for me, this time has come. Although my head can appreciate why this is happening, my heart remains languishing in the past.

We, Bootsy and I, have had great opportunity to race several venues around the world. We have found other venues we love and those places will continue to pull us back. But Coeur d'Alene "was" different, my gold standard if you will. Outside of Kona, as it should be, Sherman Avenue is the finish that, for me, all other races have been held to. It is the finish line I have found myself returning to when in need of putting life's challenges in perspective. She (IMCDA) allows me to work through the thing I need to the most and has always provided me with growth opportunities be them within the arena of athletic pursuit or out.

I have been to every single one of the Ironman races held in Coeur d'Alene in some manner, be it racing, volunteering or just being a fan. She has been a constant in my summers for the past 14 years, but after this August, she will be gone. And she ain't comin' back.

There is absolutely no way I can race this year. Trust me I have considered it. But due to injury I cannot get myself to a place that would allow me to complete the distance. This haunts me day in and day out. It truly pains me - greatly. But ultimately, it comes down to respect, I could never disrespect her in that manner.

So what does one do when jilted by his first love? He visits her, be it just enough to say hello/goodbye. He continues in his admiration but from a distance. He reflects upon their time together while continuing to grow in the lessons learned both with her and without. He sheds a tear for the lose while reserving that very special spot in his heart for a love that will always remain long after she has gone.

I have had the opportunity to race Ironman Coeur d'Alene on 6 different occasions. Enclosed are brief snippets of writing from each of those races. I have never done an exercise like this. Upon reflection, I had absolutely no idea the struggles IMCDA has afforded me. My recollection of this race is of love and respect - only. Upon further examination of this group of writings from this particular race the injury, sickness and struggles have simply been washed away. I now move forward with a heart that is full, to express all the feelings of what I have become.


2006 Ironman Coeur d'Alene -

When Ironman came to Coeur d'Alene in 2003 I thought I would find the participants cut, lean and fit. Which I did but I also found the average athlete. This is where I fall in and this is what ultimately drew me to the start line.

Bootsy and I signed up for the 2006 addition of Ironman Coeur d'Alene only after deciding to run a marathon in 2004 and doing a half iron distance race in 2005. We wanted to complete those distances not only to build our confidence but also we knew if we did either of these races and hated the training or the racing then iron distance wouldn't be for us.

So there we were, signed up for this monster of a race. The only things we brought to this endeavor were some baseline fitness and a bunch of enthusiasm. Both qualities need for first time Ironman racing but as we would soon find out the learning curve is HUGE!

The 2006 Ironman Coeur d'Alene is one of my favorites mostly because it was our first and because I truly had no idea if I could complete the distance. And when I did.....It moved and changed me forever.

So I'm at home where the grass is long with neglect and the gaping holes in my domestic responsibilities are laughing at me. I'm up late trying to reason with the reality of Ironman. Finishers medal in hand. 

We all do triathlon for different reasons. I can't really explain why I do them other then it is a part of who I am and what I have become over the past 10 years. I am not looking for the opportunity to run Boston or the chance to cross the finish line in Kona. So why? It may be more like therapy without cost. As triathletes very few truly understand us. We are a unique and odd group. Trying to tell a person who's closest thing to exercise might be mowing the lawn about Ironman is usually received with blank stares. But talk to another triathlete about it and they will listen intently wanting to know every detail right down to how many times you peed. 

Ironman Coeur d'Alene is more than just a single day in June, it's a journey. One not only traveled by me but by all those close to me. So to you all I extend a very sincere and heart felt "Thank You!" I would have never started this journey without you. You were all there in your own and unique way, more then you will ever know, for every stroke of the swim, every turn of the pedal and every step of the marathon. 

Thank you. Ironman Coeur d'Alene 2006 is a gift I will always treasure.

Note my nephew running on the far right. Love this shot.
Photo by Kelli Dahmen

Ironman Coeur d'Alene 2008 -

Sunday May 4th 2008 - The same as any other year, we ran Bloomsday. We were training through Bloomsday to use it as a fitness check and just a good opportunity to celebrate spring along with 60,000 of our closest friends. Needing more miles then the 12k upon completion of the race, we set out to run the course a second time. It was enjoyable for sure but...

Monday May 5th 2008 - I can barely walk due to the fact the my right achilles is completely fired up. Not good. Two doctors and P/T has me not running - at all - for the next six weeks as we work to get it to calm down and strength the afflicted area.

Two weeks prior to the race I was able to resume running but only up to 30 minutes twice a day. Eight weeks of run taper is not S.O.P. but what do you do?

As I stood in the sand the morning of the race waiting for the gun to fire turning 2400 of us loose in a mass swim start I was shaken for sure. But Bootsy was standing beside me, her fitness was solid, she assuring me I could in the very least cover the distance. As always, she was correct.

Coming in I knew the run was where I was going to struggle. As I see other athletes move past, somehow this doesn't seem to bother me. If the word applies in an Ironman, I am "enjoying" the run. Physically things are holding together much better then I could have ever asked. Now it's station to station because at this point everybody is in some level of hurt. I know if I just keep on keeping on I'm going to finish this thing. 

Family work the aid station. Photo by Kelli Dahmen 

Mile 20 - Creativity gets me to this point, now reality takes over. Everything hurts! I'm keeping the pain at bay with thoughts of Sherman Avenue and a strong finish. Stay focused on the finish. I'm trying to get any nutrition I can. Most stomachs are a bit sickly at this point and I adopt a "put it down there and hope it doesn't come back up" strategy. 

Photo by Kelli Dahmen

The 26th. mile is a miracle mile. The pain slips away as I float toward the irresistible force that has drawn me to the start line. Friendly faces are everywhere but when I see my parents the emotion of the entire year is too great to contain. The tears of every emotion I have felt over the last mile, day and season are free flowing as for the first time all day you know you're going to finish this thing. People ask why your parents bring the tears? It's because parents just wants what's best for their children, they want to keep them safe but now on this day, all they want for me is this. Pick a stronger word then hope!  

Photo by Kelli Dahmen

I look back now on my entire Ironman year, the highs and the low points of the season. I wanted it to be a steady rise to a proud charge to a finish line that was all mine. But as triathletes, we know that something such as this in never guaranteed. But reaching that little white line in the road, that magical place where I learn so much about life and humanity, this is my destination. 

2009 Ironman Coeur d'Alene -

We learned a lot from our first two runnings of IMCDA but mostly we learned how to train and the key roll recovery and nutrition play in overall fitness. We also joined a local Tri club which afforded us the opportunity to train with people with a huge amount of experience. In other words we were beginning to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

After struggling to get to the start line on 08, I was ready to do whatever it took to not have that happen again and to lean on the experiences of my two prior races.

We trained hard, we trained smarter and with a new found level of confidence. This all adding up to a great day. My best day when judged solely by the clock. A new P.R. (personal record) that still stands to date... darn it.

There  are parts of my life that each year I have felt compelled to share. This year for some reason, I have not. This has challenged me for some time now. In past years my writing has come with relative ease and has been based in athletic pursuits where I learn so much about life and what it offers. It took me a while to discover my disconnect. 

We all have dreams. Have you ever touched a dream? This year in Coeur d'Alene, on Sherman Avenue, I did just that. I have pursued such a dream for many years, in many different forms and arenas of life. So when this dream was realized I naturally thought it would move something deep within me. It did! 

I have had great opportunity and many miles to consider why I have been unable to transcribe my experiences at of such an event. The truth of the matter is - I'm keeping this one for myself. Selfish I know. 

So many got me to and through this unexplainable experience. There are very few single days in our lives outside of a birth or a wedding that we will remember for a lifetime, thank you for being part of mine. 

Let me take a moment to speak to each of these photos.

Photo by Kara Nelson

And it's time to ride the bike around for a bit. Where is Steve Anderson? I know he's out there. Now if only I could catch him.

There was a short out and back section at the very end of what was the Hayden bike course. It was here in this final section of what turned out to be a very good ride for me, I almost, repeat almost, caught Steve. Steve is a far superior athlete and went on to crush me in the run but had I known I was closing (note the word closing. He also is a much better swimmer then I in a time when the swim was a mass start) I know would have gone harder in an effort to complete the catch.

Photo by Jayne Anderson

This photo was courtesy of another good friend. When racing IMCDA there are friendly faces everywhere which for me makes it very hard not to spend the entire day with a smile on my face.

Photo by Kelli Dahmen

This is one of my all time favorite race photos. It rates! Not because it's photographically superior but because in this photo, I'm about to receive aid from my sister. That's a cool moment in any Ironman but when things are at their best race wise and you're able to share it with a family member, actually given the opportunity to have my sister volunteer and share in my success on raceday or actually foster my success by give me aid, it only makes a P.R. that much sweeter!

Photo by Kelli Dahmen

It was cool, windy and wet as represented by the fact that I worn my arm warmers the entire race. But my family was there for the entire race, volunteering, cheering and chasing me around the run course. When that happens, even in a P.R. race you stop and thank them. It's part of the reason I continue to race, seeing them, having their support.

Photo by Kelli Dahmen

I just love this photo. If you look closely you can actually see me in the mix of racers. The finish line in an Ironman is such a blur, awash with noise and mostly just colors as you pass. Not a lot of detail is retained. So the fact this captures that moment I dream about all day and the clock as well, makes this another of my favorites.

The only Ironman race to date where I was actually waiting for this girl at the finish line. Maybe it will happen again someday through my fitness and a good day but I wouldn't hold my breath. (Yep, I beat her on the day. But don't tell Bootsy I mentioned it. It's not a big deal. No - really.)

2011 Ironman Coeur d'Alene -

The week leading up to and including the 2011 raceday I was sick. Like - lay in bed sick. I had the flu. The rub was not to let Bootsy know how sick I actually was. Obviously, when you have the flu you can't hide all the symptom but due to the fact that I'm a bit of a race week freakazoid some of the symptoms can be masked as race week nerves.

Bootsy was on form in 2011 and ready to make a run at qualifying for Kona. Which she did by the way, finishing first in her age group. Not only finishing first but going away. But don't get me started on that or we will be here all day. Anyway - Bootsy need to stay focused on herself. My being sick would not help that but in fact hinder it. Nervous energy is energy used up. I didn't want any part of that so I did my best to fake it and in turn I have to wonder if I too were a bit fooled in the process. Things went reasonably well until about the 5 mile mark of the run where finally and not unexpectedly the wheels came off and I was forced to run/walk. It's was a great race in the end with Bootsy qualifying. On the run I would eventually find a friend who had crashed early in the bike but was toughing it out with a broken collarbone. I believe there may be a couple photos of the two of us walking hand in hand, supporting each other on a day that had not gone as planned.

As I sit now looking back, I learned a lot about myself out there. I've always said Ironman is about the journey and not the destination, and even with a sub pair race, ending with a 12:54 finish, I'm still going to have to standby that statement. 

I learned that I need people, day in and day out - I need people. As much as I push them away, my people keep coming back, and for them and for that I am so grateful. Every corner, every turn on race day and in life - they are there - in person and in spirit. What an incredible blessing to me.

I also learned that making goals and holding yourself accountable are good things. No, they are great things, as hard as they are, as scary as they are. Some days we will achieve our goals, and some days we won't - we have all been there, haven't we? 

But on a few singular special days, when we push ourselves past what we think is possible, those days we surprise ourselves most and those are the days we learn the most about who we really are and what we are truly made of. Those are the days that keep me moving forward and these days - well, in my opinion, those days are just about perfect!

I encourage anyone who wants to see what they are made of to try an Ironman. You will get a sense of who you truly are. This is Ironman Coeur d'Alene. What's your story?

Getting an update on Bootsy's race from her Father as I'm leaving T2. Yeah - she was on a good day. Photo by Kaarin Appel.

2013 Ironman Coeur d'Alene -

In late winter/early spring of 2013 I suffered a mountain bike crash on the ice which left me with a lower back injury. An MRI reveled damage to L5 and as a result of my training was, well, tricky and/or suspect. 

I knew early in the year my race wouldn't go as planned so I shifted gears in an effort to "just participate" knowing I had Ironman Arizona in November and hoped I could show up to her start line in shape. 

So I suffered though. I take some pride in the fact and more importantly Bootsy had another good day and would return to Kona for her second time.

Recovering from an injury can be frustrating, even isolating. I have spent the spring and now most of the summer with a bit of a niggle in my lower back that has reduced the amount of training I have been able to do. The frustration of an injury during the race season can be a bit of a challenge. 

I did get the honor of racing Ironman Coeur d'Alene in June. Going into the race I knew I was under trained but had no idea how much. I hoped to get to the start line at 65% of where I thought I should be on race morning. Not sure I got there. 

Swimming is the disciple that has continued to fire up my back and as a result the bike was a struggle and the run was out right hard. This was by far the hardest race I have ever had the privilege of doing. But when racing IMCDA there is so much race day support. There are friendly faces at every turn. 

I learned a lot from this years race and I take away a huge respect for the level of fitness I have brought to the start line at other IM races. I can only hope that this will never happen again and I will be able to arrive on race day with a high level of fitness. 

Taking some time off after IMCDA I have been afforded the opportunity to be a race fan and pursue my "F-Dot". Bootsy is having another great season and finished first in her age group at IMCDA. She will be returning to Kona.

Photo by Rene Guerrero

Photo by James Richman

2015 Ironman Coeur d'Alene -

It was hot - very hot! No other way to say it. The heat ate me up a bit on the bike which left me walking the marathon. So glad to say I completed the race in this kind of heat. Walking a marathon, however, isn't something I would recommend without training to walk a marathon. This was an epic race from my vantage point. The oppressive heat made this race such a completely different animal where if you didn't stay on top of every detail the heat was waiting to bite.

Mile 21 - The Gallaghers have come back out on the run course to check on some of the racers, Bootsy in tow. Bootsy was kind enough to walk with me for a couple of miles and the company, although always good, was great. We had a chance to catch up about our days and reflect on what it is like to race inside an oven. 

Mile 23 - I trade Bootsy for Nat who was on her mountain bike. Nat rode with me the remainder of the way in. There were times I am feeling so awful I wonder if I can make it the final miles but Nat talks me though it. Is having someone to talk with in the final miles of a 7 hour and 37 minute odyssey considered outside assistance? Probably. But at 10:30 at night and 16 hours and 23 minutes into the race, who is going to enforce it? 

I give Nat a hug, thanking her for bringing me in as I turn down Sherman Avenue. The lights of the finish line and Mike Reilly's voice calling me home. A fellow competitor asks where we were supposed to go. I tell him we go straight down Sherman to the clock tower and the bright lights. "A finish on Sherman Avenue is what brought you here and it is what will bring you back." 

I jog the final few hundred yards to the finishing shoot, giving high fives to anyone who would take one and they all were taking. I reveled in it, soaked up every possible second, every congratulations, every smile and every cheer. 

In the final hour of any Ironman, Mike Reilly, the voice of Ironman, comes down from the announcers box to greet the athletes as they finish. As I approach Mike I look for a high five. Mike grabs my hand stopping me, looks me straight in the eye and saids those magic words "Craig Thorsen - You are an Ironman!" 

Photo by Tricia Mack

Photo by James Richman

Photo by James Richman

So this August 27th I will say goodbye, we will officially breakup. Bootsy and I will spend the weekend in Couer d'Alene, volunteering, working with our sponsors, rooting for friends, and just being fans of a race we truly love.

It's no surprise that one feels pain when going through a breakup, but whether or not one suffers from this breakup is a choice that one makes. Pain is natural, but to make it something larger then it is, this is totally unnatural. Feel the pain, learn from it, and use it as a tool of growth so one can move forward and have better results as you go along. Decide today not to suffer and let the past remain the past no matter how much you love and respect her.