PART ONE: Not an athlete.

“YOU!   ARE!   AN!   IRONMAN!” the announcer screamed.  I was numb.  I was running down the length of the historic Olympic Oval in Lake Placid, New York.  The announcer was yelling.  The crowd of 5,000 plus was cheering.  The spotlights were flashing.  The music was blaring.  I was taking the last few steps of my 15-hour plus, 140.6 mile journey that started earlier that day with a 2.4-mile swim in Mirror Lake, a 112-mile bike ride through the Adirondack Mountains of up-state New York, and finished with a 26.2-mile marathon. 

I believe this journey to finishing one of the most grueling athletic events actually started before that morning in Lake Placid.  It probably started in Kansas City shortly after my wife, Staci, gave birth to our second of three children.  As I was looking at the photos of myself holding Joshua in 1998, I saw the image of a tired thirty-something guy whose appearance was reflective of the job-related travel and fast food lifestyle from the years since college.  I weighed 205 pounds, and was doing nothing active to change the trend of gaining girth.  At the same time, my father’s health was failing.  It hit me that my father wasn’t going to be around for his grandkids.  I started to realize that I needed to do something—anything—to change my lifestyle and become more active.  I decided to begin running in the morning.  Easier said than done.

I was never a runner.  I was certainly not a swimmer.  My bicycling was limited to fast sprints on my BMX (bicycle motocross) bike.   Although I raced BMX bikes in my teens, I have never considered myself an athlete.  BMX racing was a sprint-like race on dirt tracks populated with jumps and banked turns.  Within 90 seconds, the race was over.  The sport hardly laid a foundation for the endurance demands of the swim, bike and run sport of triathlon.   I never considered myself an athlete, and still do not.  Therefore, when I decided to begin running I was not sure how to begin. 

In the spring of 1999, I drove downtown to my office and joined a health club on the terrace of the Commerce Tower.  I stepped out onto the double tennis courts that occupied the building’s roof and began to run around the courts.  On my third lap around the tennis courts, I had to stop and catch my breath.  I was done.  Embarrassed, I walked another few laps and then ran three laps again.  Depressed, I left the courts and hit the showers.  I was hoping that no one saw me out there struggling in the pre-dawn hours.   

Surprisingly, I returned to the rooftop courts later that same week.  That’s probably one of the toughest things I have done—sticking with my running during those first few months.  Soon, I was able to run three miles at one time without stopping.  I started to feel different—healthier.  I started to eat less candy and ice cream.  I was drinking Slim Fast for lunch rather than always hitting Taco Bell and McDonalds at the food court.  I lost 30 pounds in those first six months.  I was very excited about my progress.  And then, my competitive nature started to kick-in. 

I learned that it was tradition for my firm to participate in Kansas City’s annual Corporate Challenge.  The Corporate Challenge is an Olympic-like tournament that pits large companies against each other in both team and individual competition including softball, tug-of-war, and other contests.  Someone challenged me to get involved, and I instantly took the bait although at first I wasn’t sure which sport to select.  I learned of the duathlon event, which is based on a 2.4-mile run, followed 10-mile bike and concludes with another 2.4-mile run.  I decided to enter that event knowing that it would give me a goal and motivate me to continue training.  After all, I thought, the event was scheduled a few months in the future and I had been running three miles each day.  And, I knew how to ride a bike.   

That year I competed in two duathlons and fell in love with the multi-sport craze.  I had found a channel for my competitive energy and my desire to live a healthier lifestyle.  Then, I discovered a problem.  Duathlon events were limited in their availability and variety.  There were probably only three duathlons held each year in the Kansas City area.  I was hesitating to begin training for an event that only comes a long a few times a year.  I realized that triathlons were more popular and therefore more prevalent in this area.  No problem, I thought, I’ll just teach myself to swim.  I hopped in the pool at The Kansas City Club and was only able to swim one length (20 yards) before grasping for the side of the pool.  “Whoops,” I thought.  I guess this was going to be harder than I thought.  I checked into the shortest distance offered in the local triathlons, and realized that I needed to swim 300 yards, or 15 lengths of the pool to do the minimum.  And, let’s face it, you can run until you are tired, and then walk.  You can ride until you fade, and then coast, however, if you stop swimming—you typically sink.  Yes, lack of swimming skills is another hurdle I had to overcome to become a triathlete.  To begin to remedy this situation, I flew to my hometown of St. Louis in October of 1999 and participated in a traveling swim camp called Total Immersion.  At this camp I learned the basics of swimming, balancing in the water, and practicing.  I continued to train that fall and winter.  I swam several times a week at The Kansas City Club and Bally Sports Club.  I ran inside on a treadmill and occasionally through the streets of downtown during lunch.  I purchased a device called a Blackburn trainer, which allows me to ride my bike fast in the warmth of my garage without going anywhere.   

I set a goal of competing in my first triathlon to be held at Heritage Park in May of 2000.  I began to outline my training requirements based on magazine articles and books that I skimmed about the science of multisport training.  I quickly realized that this new hobby was going to take a lot of time.  I used to avoid playing golf because of the time the game required away from my family.  Compared to a triathlon, golf seems like a walk in the park.  Triathlon takes a lot of consistent time commitment.  Gains made one week can be lost the following week unless you continue in that specific training.   

My family time is very important to me.  It is very important to my wife.  Although I do not remember one specific conversation, I soon became very convicted about preserving family time in both quantity and quality.  I concluded that I was not going to be able to train like most of my fellow triathletes.  I figuratively built a fence around my evenings and weekends.  I posted a sign that read, “no training allowed."  I designed my schedule to arrange for early morning training session, and early bedtimes.  I am very proud of this decision, and I am very thankful for my wife’s understanding and support.  I just wish it was easier to get up in the morning! 

I hate mornings

I am not an early morning person.  I am not a morning person, nor am I not a mid-morning person.  I hate mornings!  That being said, getting up very early in the morning to train is another hurdle I had to overcome to train for triathlons.  With swimming, I simply smashed that hurdle by learning the skill and reinforcing my technique.  However, rising at 4:30am in the morning was a hurdle that I had to overcome each and every day.  Ouch!  Did I mention that I hate mornings?  And, it’s one thing to get up that early.  It’s another thing to jump in a frigid pool, mount a cold bike seat in the garage, or step out into the chilly air and complete a workout before most people wakeup.  Each weekday morning before work I had the same routine.  First, I pulled myself out of bed and into the world of triathlon training.  Second, I completed a tough workout, showered and arrived at work ready for the day ahead.  I told people that every morning I had two personal victories in the bag before I started work.  At work, I was already looking for my third.  My intense schedule transferred over to my job, and I believe I honed a lot of time-management skills.  I became very much aware of how valuable my time is.  I was careful how I spent the little free time that I had—which meant little time watching television or any other casual forms of entertainment. 

The morning of my triathlon debut came in May 2000.  I woke up at 4:30am and drove to the Heritage Park Triathlon.  Before the race, it rained for about an hour so I was forced to wait in a barn, freezing, with my family.  I was already nervous, and the long wait wasn’t helping my nerves.  Eventually, we were asked to enter the water and get ready for the swim start.  I lowered myself in the water, as the wetsuit that I bought the week before tightened around my chest.  The cold water and the tightness of the wetsuit shocked me.  I felt as though all my breath was taken from my body.  Then, the horn sounded and my swim wave was headed to the first orange swim buoy.  I put my face in the frigid water and gasped.  I tried to swim forward, but could hardly move.  Moreover, the lake was very murky and I was unable to see my hand in front of my face.  This was my first time to swim in a lake, and there was not a black line on the bottom to help me navigate.  After about eight strokes, my bias in my stroke had me in the ropes that outlined the swim course and connected the buoys.  I felt like a little minnow in a fisherman’s net.  I remember thinking that I had to keep going no matter how difficult it was.  After all, my mother was on the shore visiting from St. Louis and I could not disappoint her!  Eventually, I emerged from the water (after getting passed by the following wave of swimmers) and struggled to walk with my “swim legs."  Soon I was on my bike for the 10-mile ride.  After the ride, I returned my bike to the transition area and started the 2.4-mile run portion.  My legs were full of lactic acid and simply did not want to move.  It was a real struggle.  I crossed the finish line over an hour after I started the race and received a finisher’s medal accompanied with a round of applause.  Yes, I was a triathlete! 

I closed out my first season as a triathlete by competing in five other triathlons.  During my second year, I continued to train and competed in another seven triathlons.  In my first year, I placed second in my age group at Shawnee Mission Park’s short course, which qualified me for the national age group championship.  The national championship was ironically held in St. Joseph, Missouri so I didn’t have to travel far to have my ego bashed.  My second season included a third place in my age group at the Summer Sizzler long course.  In both seasons, I traveled to St. Louis to participate in the Lake St. Louis triathlon.  I won my age group in the short course both years.  That was a thrill to medal in my hometown with my family as spectators.   

I am lucky to have a relationship with a local bike shop that specializes in the sport of triathlon.  Dave Clements of Wheeler’s Cycle and Fitness has been a key advisor as I have worked towards advancing my triathlon skills.  Dave, Bob and the crew at Wheeler’s have been helpful as they steer me towards the right equipment for the bike portion of triathlon.  Triathlon-specific bikes are very complex as they are built for speed by utilizing lightweight material structured in aerodynamic design.  The complexity increases due to the exact sizing and positioning requirements of each rider to ensure maximum speed with the right amount of comfort. 

No pain, no gain?

I continued to enjoy the sport, and thought I might be ready for a greater challenge.  I trained for and competed in the half-Ironman “Pigman” event held near Cedar Rapids, Iowa in August of 2001.  That was a huge race for me, and I trained accordingly.  This was the first time that I designed my training schedule with a “peak” in mind.  I was pleased with my finish, even though I began to feel the pain that long-distance training can bring.  My pain comes from many hours of training, but is further compounded by the way my feet are formed.  With the help from several specialists, I’ve determined that I do not have the best feet for this sport.  Technically speaking, my first metatarsal (a long bone just below your big toe) is too long which results in a very high arch.  In podiatrist terms, I am a supinator.  This uncommon foot structure causes my foot to roll to the outside when I run, which torques my leg and knee.  This extra twist inflames my iliotibial (IT) band.  The IT band is a tough group of fibers that run along the outside of the thigh from the hip to below the knee.  After a few miles, it feels like my knee and leg muscles are being tortured with a dull knife and I simply cannot run any more.  This is called IT Band Friction Syndrome.  I confirmed my condition by running the hot and hilly St. Louis marathon in October of 2001.  Ouch!  I was feeling all right until I started limping on mile-16.  From then on, I had to stop every half-mile and stretch my IT Band while lying on my back.  I finished the marathon, but I knew that I needed to find a solution or return to sitting on the couch. 

Another issue that I deal with is plantar fasciitis.  Plantar fasciitis (pronounced PLAN-tar fashee-EYE-tiss) is an inflammation of the plantar fascia ("plantar" means the bottom of the foot, "fascia" is a type of connective tissue, and "itis" means "inflammation"). The plantar fascia encapsulates muscles in the bottom of the foot, but it also supports the arch of the foot by acting as a bowstring that connects the ball of the foot to the heel.  Plantar fasciitis is a condition that is most painful in the morning when an athlete steps out of bed.  Before I identified and treated plantar fasciitis, I was unable to walk in the morning from my bed to my dresser three feet away because of the pain.  I started to keep a heating pad on my floor and then placed my feet on the pad while I reached for the alarm clock and my glasses.  After warming my feet for three to five minutes, I was able to walk with less pain.   

As with many long-distance athletes, I had to quickly become acquainted with local specialists that could help me with IT Band Syndrome, plantar fasciitis, and other overuse repetitive injuries.  Luckily, many of the specialists are current or former triathletes, so they know about these common injuries and ailments.  They are also good at networking and collaborating on patient care.  First, I found relief from a hamstring strain by using Active Release Technique (ART) from Dr. Marty DeCourcy and Dr. Brian Holderman.  ART professionals intervene and get “hands on” to remove adhesions from injured soft muscle tissue.  Every ART session is actually a combination of examination and treatment. The ART provider uses his hands to evaluate the texture, tightness and movement of muscles, fascia, tendons, ligaments and nerves.  Abnormal tissues are treated by combining precisely directed tension with very specific patient movements.  This reduces pain and promotes healing quickly.  The ART team referred me to the podiatrist and fellow triathlete Dr. John Riley IV.  Riley studied my feet and developed custom orthotics that matched the unique structure of my feet.  Dr. Riley referred me to a shoe store, Elite Feet and the owner Don Nottberg.  Don came along side Riley’s solution and recognized that my recent shoes were not at all appropriate for my feet.  Finally, I discovered the Patt-Strap device that wraps around my knee and literally holds my IT Band against my leg structure to prevent it from becoming irritated as a result of tense rubbing during cycling and running.  

(Spring 2005 update: a new friend suggested ARC in Kansas City.  They've helped me rehab and strengthen my legs and now I no longer have IT Band pain, and I no longer need to wear my Patt-Strap!) 

Before we successfully diagnosed these issues, I had to manage my training and racing around chronic issues and frequent injuries.  This pain was compounded late in my second season as I raced the half-Ironman and three others triathlons in the span of five weeks.  As we try to implement preventive measures with post-injury care, I have developed a lot more confidence in my ability to extend my training and set greater goals.   

I suspect most triathletes do not quickly seek the longer events, such as the half-Ironman.  However, I knew once I finished the half-Ironman, I wanted to spend my third season training for the biggest of the triathlons: the full Ironman.  I am not exactly sure of when I registered for the Ironman, but I do know that the event fills its available 1900 participant slots a year in advance.  I registered for the event, but did not fully understand the magnitude of my decision at first.  In hindsight, I probably didn’t realize the magnitude until I began to structure my training program.  Still yet, I probably underestimated the effort required to finish an Ironman up until the point I was shuffling into the village of Lake Placid for run mile 25 on the evening of the event. 

Next section:  Ironman: is it possible?

Gregg Ironman Story: Intro

Not an athlete
Ironman: is it possible?
Race day