August 20, 2009 (3 days before the big race) – Waking up with a cold with just 3 days before the biggest race of my life certainly threw a crimp in my race plans. I started popping cold pills and drinking tons of water and called off any last minute swim, bike or runs. I’d been training for 10 months so I knew that a few days off before the race wouldn’t be a big deal, but mentally, I started to freak out. When you try to plan for everything there are a few things that can not be forecasted: the weather and being sick.

August 21, 2009 (2 days) – Woke up still feeling the effects of the cold and when looking at the forecast for Race Day it didn’t look good. Hurricane Bill’s projected path looked to be veering away from New England, but still a predication of heavy rainfall started to again mess with my head. I could not have predicted a more stressful couple of days leading up to the race. After getting home from work and eating a very carbohydrate dinner, I began to relax. Now, for folks who know me the days before a big race, I’m a nervous wreck. I really don’t know how to relax and usually it comes down to me thinking everything is going to go wrong. In Boston 2008 the night before the big marathon I ended up eating out and getting a huge lump of pasta with no butter or sauce. Very disgusting, but I tend to bring it on myself. You’d think that over the years I would eventually learn, but for some reason I just seem to always get all worked up.

The plan was to pack (yep, should have done this the week leading up to the race, but I like to procrastinate), sleep, get up early and pack up the car.

August 22, 2009 (day before) – So, I did seem to get a few good hours of sleep and woke up worry free. Got everything packed up and the family (thanks to the ever patient wife) were all ready to go. My daughter seemed to be really looking forward to staying in at a hotel. Don’t know why, but this was all she could talk about for the weeks and months leading up to the big race (and she went on a 3 1/2 week trip to Colorado!).

I began to put the bike rack on the truck and while attaching some extra bungee cords I had to take my water bottles out of the cages and place them on the back fender. Of course, since I’m one of the biggest klutz’s around I cut my finger while fastening the bungee to the bike rack. Damn, it hurt. So into the house, clean and band-aid and out to finish the job. Everything packed up and ready to go.

Popped in the motivational music mix and we were off. The kids were partaking in a non competitive obstacle course at 2p so we had plenty of time to get up to the racing area and do everything we needed. I had a good breakfast, plenty of water and the weather looked nice.

About fifteen minutes away from the house, I realized something. Crap. I never put my water bottles back in their cages. I had left them on the bumper and of course driven away. My wife (while holding back the laughter) mentions that there is a Dicks Sporting Goods on the way so we can try and find replacements there. I also had my Profile Aero water bottle so I did have something, but being the ball of stress that I usually am this started to freak me out. How could I have been so freaking stupid.

So we stop at Dicks and guess what. NO BICYCLE WATER BOTTLES. Um, you’d think in a huge sporting goods store you could find A) Help and B) a very easy item to find. No, they had all those aluminum bottles but no plastic water bottles. Crap and double crap. So, I try Target which is down the road. Nothing.

So, after probably getting really more stressed than I should have I just decided that the 20 minute detour was not going to be at all helpful and time to just go up to the race site. “They have an expo so I should be able to find something there and also worst case scenario I can just go get a sport bottle of gatorade” I said to again my patient family who probably thought I was a tad crazier than usual.

The ride up to the race course took forever and though the day’s weather was nice I just kept thinking to myself “Yikes, 70.3 miles tomorrow” so I just could not relax or get comfortable. The kids were excited and as we got closer I began to relax a tad. Seeing signs for Tilton Academy really hit home. Why ? Well, the ironic story of this race was this : I actually went to school 20 minutes from the race site. I didn’t know that at the time and in an even more ironic twist, the race director also went and graduated the same year I did at the same school. So, this race was meant to be.

As we got closer the plans in my head were as follows:

• Go to the park and figure out when to register the kids
• Register the kids for their race (they were already registered but needed to pick up numbers and stuff)
• Eat
• Maybe go to the Race Expo and Race Packet Pick-up (20 minute drive at Gunstock Ski Resort)
• Watch and enjoy the kids race (ironically called Timberkids)
• If time didn’t permit then go Pick up Race Packet
• Come back to park to set up bike transition
• Back to Gunstock for mandatory meeting with the Race Director
• Check in at the hotel
• Eat
• Rest

Of course, this plan certainly wasn’t going to happen perfectly and boy did it get all messed up. We got to the park and there was plenty of parking and it seemed really laid back. We walked around the park , checked out the transition area, the lake and just wandered around. Not much to do, but we expected that. We arrived way too early (12:30p) and did not eat lunch. After a couple of cliff bars we hung around and waited.

Registration opened for the kids and we waited in line but then things seemed to take a turn for the worst. I’m not sure what happened or a combination of lack of water, food and the heat but I started to get a small headache.

We waited around for the instructions on what the kids needed to do. Turns out that this became a pretty popular little race for the kids as the lines kept getting longer. As we waited, my headache became bigger. I’ve never had a migraine, but after hearing stories, this seemed to be the start of one. Not good.

With over 200 kids and a very enthusiastic crowd of parent the kids did their warm ups. Now I know the reason why the Race Director canceled the kids triathlon because of competitive parents. This race was non competitive and for fun but the parents were pushing, yelling and also not letting anyone (meaning the kids) have space and room to warm up. Finally after the massive crowd was forced to break up the kids lined up for the time trial type obstacle course.

The wife and I stood on the sidelines and watched as all the kids began to go off. It was great fun and the kids loved it. Some parents are total jerks when it comes to this stuff. “No, don’t mind us who are standing away from the race and waiting for out kids. We don’t mind you pushing yourselves into our space and totally taking up the spot directly in front of us so we can’t see our kids.” GET OUT OF THE WAY AND OFF THE COURSE YOU IDIOTS.

It did seem to take forever but finally our children were off and running. Our son who is only 10 (a week away from turning 11) really seemed to be enjoying himself which he has done a ton of races but this was the first time it appeared he really was getting into this.

My daughter who is 4 just loves racing. She wants to be a triathlete just like her dad. Which of course makes me super excited (more on this later). They didn’t time them at all and it was fun to watch them go through all the obstacles (of which we could see). The race went out one way and then did a U shape and ended up under the Finish Line (the same one I was going to run under the next day).

The kids really did enjoy themselves and it was fun to watch; however it was going to get a little messy. My headache kept getting bigger and bigger and finally it really was painful where I could not stand. The pulsating just would not stop. Did we have aspirin or anything ? Of course not. As my son crossed the finish line, he got his medal, some water and was waiting for his sister. She fini

shes with a huge smile.

She walks over to her brother and you could see a little conversation going on. It appeared that she didn’t have her finishing medal. They walk over to a volunteer and all of a sudden you could see the huge smile on my daughter disappear. They walk over to us and she looks at me and begins to cry. How in the heck can they run out of medals ? Well, my one bad point against this weekend is that they should not have run out of medals. We registered ahead of time and everyone who preregistered should have gotten one. The folks who registered at the race should have been mailed one. My daughter was heart broken and believe me that isn’t something you want to see the day before your big race.

First thing that went into my head was “Well, if they can’t run a kids race, how the heck is the big race going to be”.

Then an announcement over the loud speaker that kids with numbers 1-135 would only be the ones getting goody bags. Well, we were within that range so the kids were excited and my daughter seemed to forget about the medal (for the moment). We told her that she would get one in the mail (which was announced). The kids get their goody bags. Another huge disappointment.

They got a recyclable shopping bag with last years Timberman water bottle and a mini-cliff bar. WTF? Well, we got a good laugh and decided to get the heck out of there!

We headed to Gunstock and to the expo.

20 minutes later we were there with a pretty cool setup. The expo was small, but cool with plenty of things to buy. I decided my kids water bottles were going to be my replacements and I would pay for them with ice cream. Picked up my packet and wandered around a bit.

Then off, back to the park, hotel and mandatory meeting.

My headache continued and really the rest of the afternoon was me battling the headache and hunger.

For dinner we ate at the restaurant and the start of my trying to wind down. They had a special Timerbman pasta dinner and when we sat down for our meal, my headache was bigger than ever. I could not drink enough or rest enough for it to go away. I should have gone on a mission to find pain relief but just didn’t want to deal with it.

The mean was great, but the atmosphere really sucked. Not the hotel or the restaurant, but the people in the dinning area. There were a lot of athletes which you could tell immediately by the bands around their wrists, but directly behind me were 4 very drunk and obnoxious people who during the whole time were loud and very annoying. It didn’t help my headache and as I find out later, food didn’t help either.

We finished and I went back to the room to lay down. My wife and the kids came home about 30 minutes later (they waited to pay so the service really stunk also).

We all fell asleep around 8-9pm. The plan was to get up at 4a and head out to the park at 4:30-4:45am.

We were all awoken at 11p by the sound of a motorcycle right outside our door. It almost seemed like the person was warming it up. After 15 minutes of that I fell back asleep to be awoken by drunk folks stumbling home and yelling and screaming all up and down the hallway and out in the street. Crap, what can you do. My headache also seemed to rear its ugly head and made sure I didn’t forget about it. I actually woke up at 2am and said out loud “I don’t think I can race tomorrow with this headache and lack of sleep”.

After a horrible nights sleep we were off. My headache still pulsating through my head, so I headed to Cumberland Farms. I love you Cumberland Farms. Monster and Tylenol.

We started towards the park and of course at 1.5 miles we were in a traffic jam. It was like the final scene in Field of Dreams where you could see cars for miles. I was freaking out because we really wanted to park at the park (not go to Gunstock and shuttle) because then the kids could go and relax in the car. So, stress again at a high level.

45 minutes later we were parking (one of the last 30-40 spots). Seemed like a perfect spot too because it was right on the run course. Nice.

Gathering all our stuff we were off to Transition.

I love setting up transition and wandering around the transition area. This race even had a nice chunk of elite athletes so you could watch what they do when getting ready. I must say they look pretty darn good and man they certainly look different in person. Chrissie Wellington is a stick and always smiling (more on that later).

After getting the bike all setup I headed out to spend some time with the family. There were quite a lot of people and the lines for the bathrooms were long but they moved quickly. This was the first triathlon I have raced in that had the proper amount of port-o-potty’s. My nervous energy subsided, my headache was gone and with the help of my Monster I seemed ready to tackle 70.3.

An accident occurred on the race course which delayed the start of the race and really kind of threw everyone’s preparation off. We were all sort of ready to do this thing and had no idea when it would start.

THE SWIM (1.2 miles)

After what seemed like a million years we were told to migrate to the swim start. Yikes, the butterflies began to emerge from the bottom of my stomach. I was actually going to do this thing.

A nice thing about starting in the middle of the pack is that I had time to watch folks go off and also relax in the water and “warm up”. I still have not gotten comfortable in a wetsuit so this time was awesome for me. I was able to jump into the water swim a bit and get comfortable with the suit and water. I had quite a bit of time before my wave so I did get in a couple of good warm up swims and then after about 30 minutes I started to see everyone in yellow caps moving towards the start. Oh crud, it was time. So, making my way through the crowds on the beach I made it to the start line. Of course, no other wave had the same swim cap as I did but I had to ask like two people – “Is this wave 7?” Of course it was, dummy. All of a sudden I was scared and nervous. Not really about the actual swim which when you looked from the shore was a very long way, but of the whole day. I was going to be out there for 6-8 hours. That is a long day no matter what the heck you are doing. I went across the timing mat and into the water. We all huddled and as the time counted down I became more and more calm. I have no idea why but I think I fell into that place. You know that place of serenity. I heard the announcer say “One Minute” and then “30 Seconds” and then “GO, GO, GO”.

I have learned from my previous swims that I in no way needed to be out front, so I hung back, took my time and glided into the water. I started slowly and eased into my stride. I had learned in the past two months how to control my breathing and stretch with each stroke. I found peace in my mind and just felt like I was gliding in the water. I didn’t get kicked, hit or punched and even found my way behind a more experienced swimmer and drafted. It seemed to take forever to hit the first buoy (which I think was 100 yards) and each buoy after that seemed like a mile in itself. Once we made the first turn (rectangular course) I thought my mind would relax but really it just seemed to start more thinking because I still had 2/3 of the race to go. I think right after the first turn I got passed by a few of the people on the wave behind me. Darn, I hate it when that happens, but just as I got passed, I passed two from the wave in front of me. Now, I felt stronger and better. I continued on and felt it tough to keep on track. All systems were feeling good and I was strong. I probably could have gone faster but didn’t want to wear myself out so I kept at my pace. My goal was 50 minutes or so (training I hit the distance at 52+ not fast I know but on par) and I felt like I was right on target.

When we made the final turn I could not have been happier. I actually felt good and surprisingly I was having fun. I have a love/hate relationship with swimming but this seemed to be quite a bit of fun. I knew I wasn’t last in the swim as I saw other folks with my cap on and also a bunch from the wave before me. I pushed it a bit harder since I knew I was coming up to the end of the swim. I can’t believe I was thinking this but I was “Darn, I don’t want this to end, I’m doing so well”.

Nothing can describe the feeling of coming up to T1 and hearing the crowd and standing up onto the beach. Well, maybe a YAHOO I’M AWESOME, I ROCK. Ok, I got out of the water and looked at my watch. Holy Speedy Trifatlete! I was running into T1 at 45:17 which was way faster than expected. Nice. I looked around to see if I could spot the family but nope, no where to be seen. What I didn’t know is that they were there and saw me, I just was in the zone.

T1

I didn’t want to kill myself in T1 but the one thing I regret? I didn’t take advantage of the wetsuit stripping. I ran right past them. Don’t ask me why, I just did. (Wife thought the wetsuit stripping was hysterical)

So, I struggled to get my wetsuit off and of course I was nervous. I put on my socks, cycling shoes, got my gloves, but didn’t put them on … DOH!! Got my helmet on, buckled, grabbed some gel’s and off I went.

So, here I was (above) running the bike towards the bike mount station. What do you see is missing ? Yep, no gloves they are in my hands, but also look at my face. I forgot my stupid sun glasses!!!

Looks like I’m ready for the ride of my life. Hey, why isn’t anyone looking at me. Don’t they see I’m awesome. Ok, not really but I certainly do look like I’m concentrating on something.

The Bike Leg (56 miles)

My goal for the day before the race was to preview the course, but do to my, lets call it disorganization, I did not get to preview the challenging course. I had read before the race that this was one of the more challenging courses in the Ironman 70.3 series and looking at the maps figured the hills were going to be tough. The first 13 miles were uphill with a killer hill at about 10-11.5% grade. Then it slightly evened out for the next 30 miles and then 13 miles hilly again to end the ride.

Because I live in a very hilly city and over the past 3 months I have learned how to climb hills, I wasn’t nervous. I actually looked forward to the challenge. My goal, 3:30. I rode hard the first few miles but it seemed like I couldn’t get going over 15mph. The hills were not tough but my legs just didn’t seem to want to move. I kept pushing and averaged about 15.5 mph until I saw I sign that scared the crap out of me.

EL DIABLO. Huh, that seemed to be frightening. Well, I live on a .3 mile hill with a 6.5% grade. It is very tough and on my long rides to come up that hill after 60 miles, is really challenging. This El Diablo was double the length and almost double the grade. IT WAS FREAKING HARD, but you know what, I felt good going up. I dropped it into low gear, gave it as much as I could, relaxed and sat up off my saddle and thought of myself as a great climber. I’d like to say it was easy and I glided up the hill, but in reality I struggled but not half as bad as others around me. I rode strong up the hill and once I hit the top I powered down the back side. In fact, after that I averaged 19mph all the way til mile 30ish.

Surprisingly, I felt great. I played the cat and mouse game with everyone around me and made sure I did not draft. I was enjoying myself. I took in the fluids and had a gel or two but what I didn’t realize was that the weather was warm but not too bad. I tend to sweat a lot and also lose a lot of sodium. During my 2008 Boston Marathon I began to get heat/leg cramps around mile 17 and I took in a ton of gels (with extra sodium) and that helped. I didn’t want to repeat that so I did take in nutrition, but didn’t realize I wasn’t taking in enough.

The course is beautiful. The first 15 miles in the back roads, up hills, with very little traffic. The 30 plus miles that were relatively flat were on a main road with huge bike lanes so it really was an ideal course.

The volunteers on the course were energetic and very supportive. The five aid stations were amazing with enthusiastic kids handing out water and gatorade, it truly was amazing. I saw a few flats and even saw a poor guy running (10 miles left in the course) because his chain broke.

I also had the best view in the house when the lead Man Elite rode by the other way and it wasn’t Andy Potts who one in 2008. About 5 minutes later I saw Andy Potts and didn’t realize what an incredible race he was going to put on.

At no time in the ride did I feel tired until about mile 54. I also felt a small twinge in my left quad. Just thought it was cramping because of the long ride through the hills. As we hit the final stretch I did feel my bladder calling out to me “Hey, I need to go the bathroom. No way you can run 13.1 miles with me this full.” I haven’t perfected the “peeing on the bike” yet, but I did see a guy in front of me do it. That didn’t help.

Coming down the last mile of the bike loop was quite packed with cars. We were directed into a single file coned off area which was marked as a no passing zone. Wow, realized how close I was to the end of the bike. I looked at my watch and couldn’t believe it. I had rode the 56 miles in about 3:08. Damn that was quicker than expected. I was looking at getting out of T2 in about 4hours. If I ran a conservative 2 hour 13.1 half marathon I would beat my expectations by over a half-hour. This was going to be a good day. I was on fire.

T2

I quickly changed into my running gear (2:30) and headed to the run. First, I forgot to spray myself with sun screen. Dang, I really need to practice these transitions. The sun was now out in full force it the heat seemed refreshing. I grabbed a cliff bar, started to eat it and realized I needed to use the rest room. I waited in line and of course there was a wait and also as I continued to eat the cliff bar

(trrying hard to down it before going into the smelly pit of disgust) the person came out. So, I shoved the remaining bar into my mouth, did my business. I had to wait in line for like 2:30 so my transition was longer than expected. The cool thing was that my family had the perfect spot to see me and I was conversing with them while I waited. I had about 6 packs of gel in my back pockets and that would lead to another one of my bad decisions for the day.

As I came out of T2 I ran up to the family and tried to give them high fives, but I really had to dump some of the gels, sport beans and cliff gel blasts I had stored in my back. The bounce was just too much to take. I threw them at my wife and she grabbed them. I heard her say “Its like Halloween.” Funny. They asked how I was feeling and really I told the truth. “I feel great.” They said I was doing awesome and I was out on the run.

The Run (13.1 miles)

The heat did seem to intensify as I ran through the crowds and onto the course. I grabbed a sponge and splashed it on my head. I did feel good and my running legs quickly came to. After about 1/4 of a mile I was in the woods and feeling good. The course was a two loop course and after 6.55 miles you had to bear to the right to continue onto the second loop (where if you went left you saw the gates of the finish…awwww).

Back on the course and I’m feeling pretty good. I realize I need to take in more nourishment but I wasn’t too worried because there were 9 aid stations on the course. So, I should be covered.

I hit mile one in 9:20 and I really do believe I would hit 6 hours for the 70.3 race which to me would be unbelievable. The run is my strongest discipline and ran 1:48 half-marathon 3 months before so seemed like I was ok.

Then after about 1/4 of a mile I felt the twinge in my left quad again. Shoot, this didn’t seem right. That 3/4 of a mile to the next aid station seemed to take forever. I came limping into mile 2 at 21:00. I slowed down tremendously. I knew I needed sodium. So, I took some pretzels, gatorade, water and some endurolyte pills. Man, when you have to eat pretzels at that point it is harder than heck. Dry as can be they were tough to put down. I then started to run again, but knew right at that point that I wasn’t going to run a 2 hour half-marathon. No way in heck.

My right quad started to tighten up and brief bits of pain were seeping into my calves. Shoot, WHY DID I NOT LEARN. When it comes to that point you know it is too late. I was not proactive and it turned

a reactive move. Fudge this was going to be a long day. I could see the same situation happening all around me. People were have a tough time. The course was slightly hilly, scenic and lots of spectators, but there was a section (miles 3-5) that we were all exposed to the sun and that is when it killed.

I had to stop at almost every aid station and grab all they were offering. Pretty great volunteers with tons of replenishment to be had, I just started too late. I loved the neighborhood kids spraying us with water guns and their parents misting us with hoses. The local hockey team who had a ton of ice and were throwing snowballs and handling it out so you could cool off. They made the time go by fast and you could tell this was special to them also. There wasn’t as many people as the Boston Marathon, but these folks were there to cheer you on like no other. I ran harder because they pushed me. I enjoyed the two independent musicians playing their music along the route. I loved the people all yelling encouragement. The barbershop quartet were amusing and the rock theme blared more than once through people stereo’s.

I somehow made it to the park and knew the most heart wrenching point of the race was about to knock me down. I came to the fork in the road and people were going both right (for the second loop) and those luck folks going left to the heaven we call THE FINISH LINE. It hurt as I ran around the area hearing everyone’s name and number being called to the promise land.

That was the loneliest I felt all day and in fact I was surrounded by others and the biggest crowd on the course.

I headed out for my second loop of torture. It did hurt, but I had that great feeling “Only 6+ miles to go”. I knew at that point I was going to finish, the suspense was just how fast. I always knew I would finish but this was just what I needed to get me through, to convince myself. I thought about my family and how proud they were of me and I just needed to

keep going and

push it as hard as I could. And with all the pain I truly was enjoying myself. I was having FUN.

That last loop I remember mile 2.5 when I saw an ambulance and hoped the person on the stretcher was ok, and mile 3.5 when I stopped, walked and then found everything I had left and ran to the finish.

Ok, I did stop one more time, but only briefly. The last two miles I ran and could not stop smiling. I hurt really bad but I could smell the finish. When you start hearing the announcer you pain seems to go away.

I remember coming up to the fork and looking to the right and veering to the left and I’ll tell you that was the best feeling in the world. I ran down the finishing shoot and caught up to the person in front of me. I hate when people sprint to the finish line and pass other people (obviously not when you are trying to win but just age groupers competing) so I hung back and I heard the announcer shout my name “1008 SANDY BAGUSKAS you have done it” or something like that. I threw up some metal signs and just could not believe it. They put that medal around me and I felt like it was a gold olympic medal.

I was proud of myself. I had completed a 70.3 half ironman. Wow.

After hooking up with my family and reliving the experience we all headed into the awards tent (not that I was going to get anything but I wanted to soak it all in).

There was plenty of food, beer and other drink, but really I just wanted to sip my water and be with the family on probably my the best athletic achievement day ever.

When Chrissie was about to win her second Timberman title my daughter shouted out to her as she was running down the chute “GIRL POWER” and Chrissie gave her two thumbs up. How cool is that.

My daughter met the winner and awesome triathlete Chrissie Wellington and she said to her “I’m going to be a world class triathlete like you” and Chrissie responded “I have no doubt in my mind you will be”.