Thanks

It’s been over four months since Ironman Florida. Over four months? That is hard to believe. The time away from the blog and from my training has provided me with a lot of time to think, reflect and most of all to be thankful. I thought when the Ironman was finished so too would my blog but I feel the need to write one more post. One more entry to thank a person, who influenced me, inspired me, mentored me, coached me and listened to me. A person I never got the chance to thank and unfortunately never will.

I have mentioned in previous posts that the journey to become an Ironman is a journey not taken alone. Though my training may have been solitary I could not have completed my journey alone. Beyond the obvious people (wife, parents, kids etc…) one person’s advice, guidance and support was invaluable.

When I was beginning my Ironman quest I had no idea what I was getting into. Not only did I not have a background in any of the three triathlon disciplines (swim, bike or run) I didn’t know a single person that I could turn to for guidance or advice. That changed in January of 2009 when I received a facebook message from a high school friend that I had seen only a handful of times since we parted ways in June of 1992. That person was Matt McCulley

Matt had heard through the grapevine that I was participating in triathlons and he encouraged me to sign up (ok insisted that I sign up) for the 2nd running of his race (tri for our veterans) on Memorial Day. Never needing much of an excuse to schedule a weekend in Sea Isle I signed up immediately and began to correspond with him on a regular basis.

I remember vividly how impressed I was by the passion and gratitude that Matt had for those that have served our country. So much so that he was moved to take on the huge undertaking of organizing a Triathlon with over 500 participants. Coordinating a race of this magnitude is a full time job for many yet the busiest guy I knew found the time to put on this race in his “spare’ time. Not only did he put on this race but he had the political clout and connections to lock down the streets of Sea Isle city on Saturday of Memorial Weekend from 7-10 am.

Shortly after our first contact I told Matt about my plans to give Ironman Florida a try in November 2009. He was immediately onboard and could not have been more supportive of my endeavor. He even went as far as to register me as an elite athlete for last year’s tri for our veteran’s as a sign of his support. This small act motivated and inspired me to increase the intensity of my training.

Though extremely busy with his job, family, coaching, training and race organizing (among other things) Matt always made time to check in with me to provide advice or a few words of motivation. He was always there with words of encouragement when I was feeling down or with a bit of advice as how to handle a given situation. These words seemed to always come at just the right time.

At one point I mentioned in a blog post that I was concerned about my lack of open water swim experience. Never one to sit back and watch a friend struggle Matt invited me down to his beach house for an open water training session…an offer I gladly accepted. I’m sure this gesture seemed like nothing to him but it meant the world to me.

In the weeks leading up to Ironman my wife, Missy, reached out to Matt to participate in a video good luck that she was putting together as a surprise for me. Matt was more than happy to oblige. If there was some way…anyway to be a positive influence then Matt would find a way. On the way to a business trip he met up with my wife to film his segment.

Unfortunately the video camera was on the frits that day and thus there is no video footage. The night before the race I watched the video tribute and could not have been more inspired. At its conclusion Missy told me about the problem with the video the day of Matt’s filming. She told me of the enthusiasm that Matt delivered his message. She said that she could see the intensity in his eyes and the emotion in his voice when he delivered his message. He spoke of the struggles that I would have that day and challenged me to embrace those moments for that was that day would be all about.

The following is an email that I received from Matt just prior to race day:

John—
You’ll do great—all of the training is done, now is the mental part. Remember, there will be a time during the race when fear strikes and you’ll question your ability to overcome. Embrace this feeling—it is my favorite part of the experience—adapt, improvise, overcome.
Good luck buddy!
mbm

After completing the Ironman Matt sent me a note congratulating me on my accomplishment. In that note he asked if I’d mind grabbing lunch with him to talk about Ironman training and race strategy (Matt had signed up to compete in Ironman Lake Placid this July). Imagine that…here is this incredibly gifted triathlete and he wanted to pick my brain regarding Ironman training. Perhaps that was the thing that best summed up the Matt McCulley (legitimate elite Olympic Distance/Half Ironman distance triathlete) that I had grown to admire and respect. He was always willing to give advice but just as likely to look for advice. A rare quality indeed.

Unfortunately, as often happens in life, things got a little hectic and our plans to get together were put on hold. Matt and I emailed several times to push back our get together. On Dec 23, I sent Matt an email suggesting a couple of dates that would work for me for lunch in the latter stages of Jan. I would never hear back from my friend.

At that lunch I had planned to thank my friend in person for all that he had done for me over the last year. I looked forward to supporting Matt as he trained for his first Ironman...a chance to return the favor if you will. I looked forward to participating in his race again this year. I looked forward to racing with him during the upcoming triathlon season.
Matt’s time on earth may be up but the intensity and spirit that he lived with will stay with me always. Thanks Buddy.

Transition, Family Pictures and Future Plans

Hard to believe but it has already been over a month since I completed the Florida Ironman? The month after the race has been a quiet one. I ran the Philly half marathon with my friend Jess on Nov 21 but other then that I have been taking it easy. A run here and there but that’s it.



The time off has allowed me to catch up on yard work and spend more time with the kids. This weekend we had our semi annual family portraits taken and I may be the first father of a 2 and 5 year old to say this but I had a great time. You are probably wondering how this is possible?

Here is how it happened. Missy and I ran across some photos our friend Kristin had posted on facebook. The pictures were absolutely amazing…unlike anything we had seem before. We were completely blown away. It turns out Kristin had done some modeling for her friend Andy (photographer).

Check out his stuff here…it is amazing http://www.todesphoto.com/



Missy got in touch with Andy to figure out dates that would work best for both parties. Andy asked where we’d like to have the pictures taken and we decided to leave it up to him. Thursday evening we received an email from him asking if we would mind meeting him out front of the random tea room (http://therandomtearoom.com/home.html) on 5th street in the Fairmount section of Philadelphia around 10 am for our shoot.


We agreed and on Sunday morning we bundled the kids up and made our way down to Fairmount. Parking was tough to come by but we eventually found a spot a block or so away. As we approached our destination Andy was easy to spot. There aren’t many people hanging out on 5th street at 9:45 am on Sunday morning with several cameras and a kitchen chair.

After our brief introduction we decided that we would need to work quickly because there was no telling how long the kids would last in this cold. The first pics were taken in front of an orange fence on the sidewalk. As expected Emily was all in and Johnny was reluctant (matches their personalities).

The looks that we were catching from passersby were interesting to say the least. Can’t imagine what they were thinking? (Interesting side note…during our 45 minutes or so we had to have seen 20 different people out walking their dogs. Need to determine the dog to person ratio in Fairmount).

Following this we made our way up the street to a small vacant lot converted to a park(?) that featured a huge mural painted on the side of one of the building. Emily in particular enjoyed this time as Andy asked her to stand on a chair for the pics. I haven’t yet met a 5 year old who didn’t love to stand on a chair. By this time Johnny was beginning to warm up to Andy and seemed a little more willing to cooperate.

For the final segment we walked a couple of blocks up to a very beat up looking green garage door. Emily again had a ball as she got to sit on my shoulders and ham it up for the camera. At this point we decided to cut the shoot short as it was just getting too darn cold for the kids (and me).

We couldn’t have been happier with the way the pics turned out and our experience in general. Andy took a seemingly ordinary setting on a frigid day and turned it into a collection of unique pictures and memories that we will cherish for years to come. In case you haven’t guessed I would highly recommend Andy to anyone looking for a photographer. He is first rate across the board.

This week will be the last of my hiatus from training. Jess and I are signed up for the Ocean Drive Marathon on March 28th of this year. Not sure what my goal is for this race as of yet...I'll have to wait and see how the knee is feeling. I'll plan to play it by ear the first month or so and then take it from there.

www.todesphoto.com

Dare to Dream

.....as I turned the corner to the finish line my entire body tingled. The official timer says 11 hours 50 minutes. (I would finish with the 500th or so fastest marathon of the day and in 841st place Out of 2,500). I see my family as the announcer says John Orsini you are an Ironman! And with that my dream was realized....

After crossing the finish line I am immediately grabbed by a volunteer and wrapped in an aluminum foil like blanket. I am ushered through the crowd and told to wait to have my picture taken. My head is spinning as flash bulbs go off all around me. I am positive it is noisy but I don't hear a thing. Before I know it my picture is taken in front of the "finisher" sign and I am whisked along yet again.

As my escort and I make our way toward the massage table something catches my eye...is that pizza? Yes it is! I break away from my escort and begin to inhale large quantities of pizza. Has pizza ever tasted this good? I think not. I have never been so grateful for a food in my life.

As I wolf down my third slice I start to wonder how do I get out of this caged in area? I wander along and as if by magic Team Orsini appears. Missy just about takes me down with a cross body hug. I remove my medal and place it around my little girls neck and her smile lights up the night sky. I hug my Mom then my Dad and look down to see the little man relaxing in his stroller as if this is a typical Saturday night.

We make our way out of the mob scene and I struggle to take it all in. What has just happened? I have done it. It is over. All the time spent dreaming, planning and training, training and training some more and now I have really done it!

And with that my dream was realized....

But this is not an ending but rather a beginning. A beginning to a life of a person that now truly understands the value and place that hard work and dedication have in achieving ones dreams. Ironman was not the ultimate dream for me but rather it was a goal that was out there for me to prove that I could do it....that I could accomplish something that few can do.... "if" I put my mind to it and dedicate myself to the goal.

I now feel equipped to accomplish anything in life. Nothing seems out of reach. With time, effort and perseverance anything is possible.

"Dare to dream, but even more importantly, dare to put action behinds your dreams."
Josh Hinds

Ironman Florida Race Report

As I stepped onto the balcony of our 8th floor condominium and looked out upon the Gulf of Mexico an overwhelming rush of emotions came over me. The water was the most beautiful mix of blue and green that these eyes had ever seen. Through the perfectly still water a lone swimmer made his way down about 50 yards off the coast. The sun was just beginning to set and the sky was a brilliant mix of blues, reds and oranges. I stood there for several minutes with Missy just taking it all in. We were here together and I was ready for my challenge on Saturday.

The days leading up to the race were quite relaxing. I went out for an easy 3 mile run on Wednesday morning and then out for a 20 minute swim in the early afternoon. This is hard to believe but the Gulf was literally more calm then the pool at my gym. I was at the same time in awe and afraid of the hundreds of fish that I saw as I swam down the coast.

After my swim it was off to the airport to pick up my parents. Thursday I wanted to simulate race conditions so I was in the water promptly at 7 am as this would be the starting time of the race. Again the water is perfect...absolutely perfect. I just can not get over how calm the water was. Shortly after the swim I was off for a 10 mile bike ride. The intent of the ride was really just to ensure that the bike was mechanically sound. All systems are go and now it is time to rest and mentally prepare myself for race day.

Through out the week I had little trouble falling asleep at night but was unable to sleep past 5am. This may have had something to do with me being excited for the race or Emily coming into our room and telling me "come on daddy time to get up it's a wonderful day" each morning?

Friday morning I turned on the t.v. and the lead news story was the impending arrival of Hurricane Ida. Hurricane.....you have got to be kidding me? Luckily the storm was scheduled to arrive until Tuesday but it's effects would be felt. The previously tranquil Gulf was now showing it's first signs of turbulence. Could not help but wonder what the water would be like on race day?

The rest of the day was spent taking it easy and following my well researched prerace day plan. For those interested in pursuing an Ironman I highly recommend Joe Friel's Triathlon Training Bible (http://www.trainingbible.com/). I ate a large breakfast first thing in the morning and then a decent sized lunch while making sure to have a bottle of water in my hands at all times.

The Mulholland's were scheduled to arrive in the early afternoon after a drive from Disney but had a last second change of plans. Their daughter Kylie had been battling a severe case of the flu all week and just was not getting better. As a father of two I know how incredibly stressful traveling with small children can be, let alone a sick child in Disney. It just doesn't seem fair to them. Thankfully they were able to get home safely and Kylie has since recovered:)

Later on in the afternoon the family was joined by my cousin David who serves in the US Air Force and is stationed in Panama City Beach. The kids were beyond thrilled to meet their cousin David for the first time! The poor guy spent the better part of his visit playing hide and seek with the kids and listening to Emily tell stories. Though I must admit that it helped to keep my mind off of the race.

As the evening was winding down Missy announced that she had something for me before I went to bed. Finally I would get to see what this "top secret" project she had been working on was all about. I was told to cover my eyes as she set it up. After a few minutes she told me to open my eyes and turn my attention to the t.v. What could it be?

The video begins with Missy telling me how incredibly proud she was of me and how much support I had behind me. What followed was the most amazing gift I have ever received...
A video good luck from the most important people in my life...family, friends and co-workers. To see the out pouring of love and support from so many people truly touched me. As I sat there watching I couldn't help but think I have to be the luckiest person on the face of the earth. To be here prepared to embark on my dream with the people I love pulling for me...my race was already won. Missy you are the best. I love you.

After the video it was off to bed and believe it or not a peaceful nights sleep. The alarm went off at 2 am and I made my way into the kitchen for my prerace breakfast. 1 bagel with peanut butter, 2 ensure shakes, 2 cups of apple sauce and 1 pint of water. After my meal it was back to bed for a couple of hours. At 4:30 am the alarm went off again and I was up for good. After getting dressed I came out of the bedroom to see a "sea of red". My parents, Missy and the Kids were all wearing red Team Orsini tee shirts. Talk about awesome!

Dad and I began the 1 mile walk to transition around 5:30. We arrive and the place is bustling... the entire area is pulsating with an incredible energy. "It's a Beautiful Day" by U2 is blaring over the loud speakers as the sun begins to rise. I make my way over to my bike to load up my bottles for the day. 1 5x gatorade, 1 protein/peanut butter/banana shake (900 calories)/and 2 bottles of water. I don my wetsuit and make my way out of transition to meet up with Dad. He has a look of pride in eyes that I won't soon forget.

After a few minutes Missy, Mom, Emily and Johnny arrive to wish me luck and then I am off. I slowly walk down to the beach and try to take it all in. 2,500 athletes, thousands of spectators...unbelievable. I stand there at the beach and I go over my race plan in my head and am again strangely calm. The pro's go off 10 minutes ahead and then it is time for the mass start.
The moment is here and the time is now.

The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat."
- Teddy Roosevelt, Speech at the Sorbonne, April 1910

This moment is about more then just finishing a race...it is about setting a goal, working as hard as you can, over coming adversity, striving to be the best that you can but ultimately it is about putting it all on the line stepping forward to be counted, to put it all on the line in front of everyone and know either victory or defeat.

The cannon goes off and there is a rush to the water but I don't move. I wait. Let them go. Take your time this is not a sprint but a half day event. Survive the swim and go on to the bike. One step at a time. The goal is to finish. The surge heads out and I begin my walk to the water a full 1 minute after the rest. I check my goggles, adjust my swim cap. One last check to make sure the goggles are on tightly. No leaks. I am ready to go.

I look at my watch and 2 minutes have passed. Here I go. I begin my swim and quickly find my rhythm. My swim stroke is strong and fluid. My breathing feels great. With in seconds I am on the back of the pack. Like a half back following his blockers I patiently look for gaps in the mass of humanity. When I find one I hit it. When I don't I patiently wait for my opening. I begin to make my way through the field of competitors. The calm waters of mid week are long gone. I would later find out that the seas were 4-6 feet that day and I believe it. Up and down I go over the rolling waves. I am certain that people will have to withdraw from the race due to sea sickness.

As we approach the turnaround I resist the temptation to cut it close to the buoy. Way to many people. I take the turn a solid 25 yards wide. Wise choice. I glance over and see people at an absolute stand still, treading water waiting to make their turn.

As I begin the swim back to beach I am feeling great. I am not sure what my pulse is but the effort level feels like about 75%. Before I know it I am on the beach I look at my watch and it says 34 or so minutes...one lap in the books and one to go. As I cross the timing mat I hear my name. I can't believe it...amongst the thousands of people there is Missy standing in the surf with a video camera holding Johnny. My spirits are feeling really high.

The second lap is all about restraint. I resist the urge to open it up and instead take it easy. Any doubt that I had regarding the swim is gone. I stick with an easy 75% effort and cruise through to the finish of the swim. I would later find out that I came out of the water in 814th place.

After coming out of the water I see my family or at least I think I do? It's all a blur. The adrenaline is really pumping. The wetsuit strippers make short work of my wetsuit and before I know it I am dressed in my bike gear and getting slathered with sun block by the fantastic volunteers. Missy is cheering me on at decibel levels that have to be causing long term hearing damage to Johnny and Em.

I am out of transition and on the bike. I am cruising along taking in fuel and watching my heart rate. I am also watching dozens upon dozens of people passing me in Tour De France like drafting trains. Unbelievable? I can't believe people have trained for this long and then blatantly cheat? The first 20 miles are an endless stream of being passed by hundreds of people. I stick with the plan. I am not racing them I am racing myself. Focus on fueling early and make up ground later.

At mile 20 we make a right turn and a spectator yells enjoy the headwind. My first real bit of adversity. I struggle but battle through. I am happy to see that others out there are working hard. Not so happy to see the blatant drafting taking place all around me. A bit of redemption is felt when I pass the penalty tent and see dozens serving their 4 minute penalty.

The miles roll on and the wind continues. The windy miles put in during my Outer Banks vacation are paying off. I am ready for this and I am handling it well. At mile 50 we make a right turn and the wind is gone. I did not know then but the worst of the bike ride was over. The rest of the way there would be maybe 12 miles of head wind.

I begin to make my way through the field. The strategy is paying off. I am feeling incredible. One of the quotes that I read during my training advised that when you feel great on the bike take on more fuel and that's just what I did. I rode the last 40 miles with my heart rate below 70% the entire time...resisting the temptation to open it up. This is a triathlon not a bike race. There is still a marathon to go. Glory is not had on mile 95 of the bike ride but mile 26.2 of the run.

As I approached transition I am elated to see my Dad about a quarter mile up the road. He lets off a raucous cheer that shakes my bike. I have fallen back in the standings to 1166th place. Coming through transition my Mom's smile lights the way. I head out for the run and I can see, hear and feel Missy. The kids are cheering! This is just as I imagined it on all of those long runs.

The first few miles are a bit of a blur. People are everywhere cheering us on. I find my stride and settle in for my marathon. The plan for the marathon is walking breaks at each aid station with a target time of 9 minute miles. What wasn't planned for were all of the rest room breaks. The draw back to taking in so much, maybe too much, fuel during the day is that I had to go to the bathroom a lot. In total I went to the bathroom 9 times during the run. That has to be some kind of record?

As I approached the half way point of the run I noticed that I had a great chance of bringing in a sub 12 hour ironman if I could avoid blowing up. I began to pay close attention to what my body was telling me. Looking for signs of hitting the proverbial wall. Then it happened. Around mile 15 I felt a slight tightness in my right calf. I decided immediately to implement a 1 minute walking break every 5 or so minutes in addition to my aid station breaks. The strategy pays off and by mile 20 my leg is feeling good but I continue with the 1 minute walking breaks.

I approach mile 24 and I am searching for a port potty that is not occupied. I finally find one at mile 25 and what a relief. I make my way up to the road and am struggling to process all that is going on...what is happening? Then just as I am about to make the turn to the last half mile a stranger steps out of the crowd and screams for the world to hear "632 YOU ARE A F$^KIN IRONMAN!" we both let out a roar and I hi fived him as I passed him. I don't think my feet touched the ground the rest of the way.

As I turned the corner to the finish line my entire body tingled. The official timer says 11 hours 50 mintues. (I would finish with the 500th or so fastest marathon of the day and in 841st place Out of 2,500). I see my family as the announcer says John Orsini you are an Ironman! And with that my dream was realized.

Garnet Valley Speech - Oct 09

As promised the following is the speech that I gave on Wed night.

Here we are. It’s been almost 5 full months since I spoke to this team back in spring practice. That’s a long time. A lot of blood, sweat and tears have been spilled over since that day.

When I spoke to you I said…. I am a firm believer that adversity doesn’t build character…rather it reveals it. That the hard work we were putting in now would build character that we’d draw upon later when times got tough….and watching what this team has accomplished this season has done nothing to change my view on the role one’s character plays in overcoming adversity.

I stand here before you as a man that has battled my own adversity, injury, fatigue, self doubt…to name a few….but I found a way, a will to reach for a goal that, at times, seemed impossible…to toe the starting line on November 7 at Ironman Florida… to be in position to realize my dreams.

I stand here before a team that has seen it all this year. You opened the season with a hard fought 1 point win over a tough opponent, lost a tough game two weeks later, came from behind to win a tough game the following week, won in a blowout, and had dozens of great moments along the way.

Why were these moments possible? Because when others chose the path of leisure you chose the path of hard work. You chose to train for months, ran plays countless times in practice . That path has led you to this point. It has put you in a position to play in a meaningful game this Friday night. What more could you ask for? …what more can we ask for?

Think about it. When you look back on your time here…win or lose you will remember this game. But don’t forget the parts that led up to this point. The hard work you put in and adversity that you overcame are what made this moment possible. In life…there can be no “moments” without hard work

Guys…the hard work has been done and the time is now ours. I have proven to myself that I’ll have what it takes on Nov 7. And you have proven to your community, your school, your coaches, teammates, your families and most importantly yourselves that you can accomplish anything….this Friday and more importantly in life. Now is the time to seize the moment. To put our mark on history. Mine with an Ironman and yours with a win this Friday night!

Sums it up

I ran across this on a couple of blogs that I follow. Not sure who wrote this? but it pretty much sums up everything that I am feeling right now and what it will be like on race day.

"Right now you've all entered the taper. Perhaps you've been at this a few months, perhaps you've been at this a few years. For some of you this is your first IM, for others, a long-overdue welcome back to a race that few can match.

You've been following your schedule to the letter. You've been piling on the mileage, piling up the laundry, and getting a set of tan lines that will take until next year to erase. Long rides were followed by long runs, which both were preceded by long swims, all of which were followed by recovery naps that were longer than you slept for any given night during college.

You ran in the dark.
You rode in the rain.
You ran in the heat.
You ran in the cold.

You went out when others stayed home.
You rode the trainer when others pulled the covers over their heads.

You have survived the Darwinian progression that is an Ironman summer, and now the hardest days are behind you. Like a climber in the Tour de France coming over the summit of the penultimate climb on an alpine stage, you've already covered so much ground...there's just one more climb to go. You shift up, you take a drink, you zip up the jersey; the descent lies before you...and it will be a fast one.

Time that used to be filled with never-ending work will now be filling with silent muscles, taking their final, well-earned rest. While this taper is something your body desperately needs, your mind cast off to the background for so very long, will start to speak to you.

It won't be pretty.

It will bring up thoughts of doubt, pain, hunger, thirst, failure, and loss. It will give you reasons why you aren't ready. It will try and make one last stand to stop you, because your brain doesn't know what the body already does. Your body knows the truth:

You are ready.

Your brain won't believe it. It will use the taper to convince you that this is foolish - that there is too much that can go wrong.

You are ready.

Finishing an Ironman is never an accident. It's the result of dedication, focus, hard work, and belief that all the long runs in January, long rides in March, and long swims every damn weekend will be worth it. It comes from getting on the bike, day in, day out. It comes from long, solo runs. From that first long run where you wondered, "How will I ever be ready?" to the last long run where you smiled to yourself with one mile to go...knowing that you'd found the answer.

It is worth it. Now that you're at the taper, you know it will be worth it. The workload becomes less. The body winds up and prepares, and you just need to quiet your worried mind. Not easy, but you can do it.

You are ready.


You will walk into the water with 2500 other wide-open sets of eyes. You will look upon the sea of humanity, and know that you belong. You'll feel the chill of the water crawl into your wetsuit, and shiver like everyone else, but smile because the day you have waited for so VERY long is finally here.

You will tear up in your goggles. Everyone does.

The helicopters will roar overhead.
The splashing will surround you.

You'll stop thinking about Ironman, because you're now racing one.

The swim will be long - it's long for everyone, but you'll make it. You'll watch as the shoreline grows and grows, and soon you'll hear the end. You'll come up the beach and head for the wetsuit strippers. Three people will get that sucker off before you know what happening, then you’ll head for the bike.

The voices, the cowbells, and the curb-to-curb chalk giving you a hero's sendoff can't wipe the smile off your face.

You'll settle down to your race. The crowds will spread out on the road. You'll soon be on your bike, eating your food on your schedule, controlling your Ironman.

You'll start to feel that morning sun turn to afternoon sun. It's warmer now. Maybe it's hot. Maybe you're not feeling so good now. You'll keep riding. You'll keep drinking. You'll keep moving. After all, this is just a long training day with valet parking and catering, right?

You'll put on your game face, fighting the urge to feel down as you ride for what seems like hours. You reach special needs, fuel up, and head out.


By now it'll be hot. You'll be tired. Doubts will fight for your focus. Everyone struggles here. You've been on that bike for a few hours, and stopping would be nice, but you won't - not here. Not today.


You'll grind the false flats to the climb. You'll know you're almost there. You'll fight for every inch of road. The crowd will come back to you here. Let their energy push you. Let them see your eyes. Smile when they cheer for you - your body will get just that little bit lighter.

Grind.
Fight.
Suffer.
Persevere.

You'll plunge down the road, swooping from corner to corner, chaining together the turns, tucking on the straights, letting your legs recover for the run to come - soon! You'll roll back - you'll see people running out. You'll think to yourself, "Wasn't I just here?" The noise
will grow. The chalk dust will hang in the air - you're back, with only 26.2 miles to go. You'll relax a little bit, knowing that even if you get a flat tire or something breaks here, you can run the damn bike into T2.

You'll roll into transition. 100 volunteers will fight for your bike. You'll give it up and not look back. You'll have your bag handed to you, and into the tent you'll go. You'll change. You'll load up your pockets, and open the door to the last long run of your Ironman summer - the one that counts.

You'll take that first step of a thousand...and you'll smile. You'll know that the bike won't let you down now - the race is down to your own two feet. The same crowd that cheered for you in the shadows of the morning will cheer for you in the brilliant sunshine of a summer Sunday. High-five people on the way out. Smile. Enjoy it. This is what you've worked for all year long.



That first mile will feel great. So will the second. By mile 3, you probably won't feel so good.

That's okay. You knew it couldn't all be that easy. You'll settle down just like you did on the bike, and get down to your pace. You'll see the leaders coming back the other way. Some will look great - some won't. You might feel great, you might not. No matter how you feel, don't panic - this is the part of the day where whatever you're feeling, you can be sure it won't last.

You'll keep moving. You'll keep drinking. You'll keep eating. Maybe you'll be right on plan - maybe you won't. If you're ahead of schedule, don't worry - believe. If you're behind, don't panic - roll with it. Everyone comes up with a brilliant race plan for Ironman, and then everyone has to deal with the reality that planning for something like Ironman is like trying to land a man on the moon. By remote control. Blindfolded.

How you react to the changes in your plan will dictate your day. Don't waste energy worrying about things - just do what you have to when you have to, and keep moving. Keep eating. Keep drinking. Just don't sit down - don't EVER sit down.

You'll make it to the halfway point. You'll load up on special needs. Some of what you packed will look good, some won't. Eat what looks good, toss the rest. Keep moving. Start looking for people you know. Cheer for people you don't. You're headed in - they're not. They want to be
where you are, just like you wanted to be when you saw all those fast people headed into town. Share some energy - you'll get it right back.

Run if you can.
Walk if you have to.
Just keep moving.

The miles will drag on. The brilliant sunshine will yawn. You'll be coming up to those aid stations fully alive with people, music, and chicken soup. TAKE THE SOUP. Keep moving.

You'll soon only have a few miles to go. You'll start to believe that you're going to make it. You'll start to imagine how good it's going to feel when you get there. Let those feelings drive you on. When your legs just don't want to move anymore, think about what it's going to be like when someone catches you…and puts a medal over your head... all you have to do is get there.

You'll start to hear the people in town. People you can't see in the twilight will cheer for you. They'll call out your name. Smile and thank them. They were there when you left on the bike, and when you came back, and when you left on the run, and now when you've come back.

You'll enter town. You'll start to realize that the day is almost over. You'll be exhausted, wiped out, barely able to run a 10-minute mile (if you're lucky), but you'll ask yourself, "Where did the whole day go?" You'll be standing on the edge of two feelings - the desire to finally stop, and the desire to take these last moments and make them last as long as possible.

You'll hit mile 25. Your Ironman will have 1.2 miles - just 2KM left in it.

You'll run. You'll find your legs. You'll fly. You won't know how, but you will run. The lights will grow brighter, brighter, and brighter. Soon you'll be able to hear the music again. This time, it'll be for keeps.

Soon they'll see you. Soon, everyone will see you. You'll run towards the lights, between the fences, and into the night sun made just for you.

They'll say your name.
You'll keep running.
Nothing will hurt.



The moment will be yours - for one moment, the entire world will be looking at you and only you.

You'll break the tape at the finish line, 140.6 miles after starting your journey. The flash will go off.

You'll stop. You'll finally stop. Your legs will wobble their last, and suddenly...be capable of nothing more.

Someone will catch you.
You'll lean into them.

It will suddenly hit you.


You are an Ironman!"

Garnet Valley Speech 2.0

Well as I mentioned yesterday I had the pleasure of going to the Garnet Valley Football practice today. At the conclusion of a very crisp practice I had the opportunity to say a few words of motivation to the team. I prepared for the moment and had nice one page speech ready to go. (I'll post it after the game is played). A funny thing happened to me just after my good friend, and a coach on the team, Scott Green introduced me....I got extremely fired up.

I think for the most part I've been down playing the emotional aspect of my Ironman. But standing in front of the team...the adrenaline starting pumping and I had a difficult time staying with the plan. I think its time to be completely honest with myself admit that I am really chomping at the bit for Nov 7 to arrive. And maybe just maybe I am not as "in control" as I think I am?

I hope that this isn't a precursor for things to come for on November 7th? I have to stay cool and keep my emotions in check if I hope to hear the announcer at IM Florida say
"and now crossing the finish line bib #632 Ironman John Orsini.