Race Day.

We crowded indoors, out of the rain, preparing wetsuits for the 2.4mi swim ahead of us. Tana, Jeff, Gerry & I had our goals and concerns for the Ironman adventure waiting for us.

The spectators lined the shore. Beautiful Lake Taupo was calm, clean and warmer than the outside air. We said a quick prayer.

750 athletes loosened up and took position behind the deep water start line. Threats of 3 min time penalties keep us at bay.

Like we always seem to do, Chad Hawker and I happen to line up near each other. I know this is a big race for him. God pulled him through a trying season in '98. Crashes at Oregon and Kona and before Wildflower, and brain tumor surgeries, kept him from really showing what he's capable of. A 32min 10K at Pacific Grove late in the season gave us a glimpse. I pray he will be free of trouble this race.

The start lights go dark, the Howeitzer fires, and the lake surface turns white. The leaders skim forward while we fight for draft positions. My left goggle is kicked, fills with water. Another athlete is kicked so hard his shoulder dislocates. Some swimmers bail out and head for shore (and a DQ) Still others never even start. Later we agreed this was a very aggressive swim crowd.

I leave the draft pack for calmer water but, behind pace at the 1.5k mark, I search again and find a lone strong swimmer to latch behind. Heading to the mouth of the river I surge forward to a larger pack. A slight current helps us to the exit ramp where volunteers hoist us out.

I get out in a great time, 56:30, and Jeff Fieldhack is right behind with Chad right behind him. We're 10min behind the leaders. Chad passes us in the transition as we head onto the slick course, donning full jerseys or arm warmers. Braunstein, Tana, & Gerry (flat tire waiting for him in the transition) aren't far behind.

The town's people cheer us through their bike course (they have a lot of pride here, always want to know how we like THEIR bike course). The first 10k is exciting as we climb, descend, negotiate sharp turns and face the fierce head wind. But then the long westward stretch descends slightly through the forests. While training here I often thought how this long, sunny, narrow road was like God's righteous path, and the dark murky forests on both sides were where we often strayed to.

My speedometer isn't working again. All pace strategies now fall on the heart rate (HR) which I keep at 145 (20 beats lower than Hawaii because much cooler) The drafting marshals are pulling racers over all around me. I swerve around them as they receive their "slashes".

When my HR drops below 140 I shift and work my way through the field, using the 15sec draft rule and careful to keep 7 meters distance until ready to pass. One guy looks back just as I come through his draft zone. He unfoundly complains, "Aye, what's this drafting?". "It's called passing...", I say, followed by a quiet mumble, "... better get used to it".

When my HR is above 150 I slow it down and let people pass me. I see Chad flying back, already 10min ahead. After eating a Cliff Bar and banana, I make the turn at 50k and experience the great tail wind home! Braunstein and Gerry are riding well but I miss Tana somewhere in between.

Coming through town is a blast (except for the guy who wipes out on a corner in front of the crowd). We stick out our arm, receive a "lap 2" band, and head back out. I grab my delicious PB&J and eat it during the twisty hilly section. Then I settle into another long, windy pull to the turn-around.

I suddenly see a friend on the return and look back to cheer her on. But I'm not used to looking over my right shoulder (you ride on the left in New Zealand) and when I come forward again, I've drifted left. I cringe as my wheels drop into the dirt, scraping along the broken pavement, as I fall towards the road. At 20mph my rt foot is unclipped bracing for the impact. And then suddenly....

....out of control, I swerve hard right... then left... all on a rain-slicked road... and, amazingly find myself upright! and cruising safely again!

I look around. Wow, there were no bikes I could have cut off and no cars that could have hit me. Immediately I feel a calm, confident knowledge that, indeed, God is in control of this race. It is His will that I finish. I switch my focus from pace, heart rate and drafting zones to a satisfying trust that God will make it all work.

I'm having a great time, the temperature is perfect (the extra shirt was a good decision), and I'm again heading home with a beautiful tail wind. But with 20K to go, I start analyzing again, calculating in my head the speed I need to get my goal bike split. I'm zoning, and when I look forward I nearly clip a parked motorcycle course marshal! If he had turned his wheel I would have been airborne. Again I realize I'm not going to get through this on my own! (slow learner)

Then I see a downed cyclist. It looks painful but marshals are there to help. Later I learn that he was trying to help another cyclist with a flat by carefully tossing him his pump and in the process hit a rock and crashed. With true determination, he still finished the race and was awarded a special commendation prize.

The wind is strong behind me and I'm flying down the curvy, wet roads into town. what a thrill! The spectators are whipping by, the cops make clearance in the intersections, and I can't wait to hit the run! Coasting in, I stretch, drink, unstrap my shoes, and jump from my bike as it careens into the outstretched hands of the volunteers. 5:26, 6minutes off goal.

My transition is fast. I don another TRH/Togo's jersey and jump into my new favorite Reebok's. I grab my hat with the protective neck sun-flap which I thought would be so important. I carry a bottle of Cytomax and a fanny pack of Gu because I don't race well with the Power-Aid, PR Bars, and Mars candy bars that they're offering on the course. Many commented on the tables of unwrapped chocolate bars soaking in the rain!

Here I am, finally on the all-important-run, the part that makes or breaks your race. This was my main goal for New Zealand, to dramatically improve my run, not go out too fast, and not to walk. I'm shooting for a 3:20 marathon to crush the trend of 3:37, 3:42, and 3:45 at previous Ironmans. I need 7:38 pace (or 4:44 per kilometer). I recently did a 20mi training run in a windy downpour at 7:20 pace. I now see the reason for that cold and wet practice. Despite the rain, the crowds are out in full force.

My first km's are too fast. I don't realize it's downhill and the wind is behind me. I force myself to go slower and slower, dreading the mistake I made at Hawaii of starting fast and suffering later. We run along beautiful Lake Taupo, out'n back twice, within a narrow bike lane. I like the kilometer markers since I can check my pace twice as often, and because those "Miles" get SO long at the end of a marathon.

5K out and the leaders are coming back (10k ahead of me) on their first loop. They're moving fast! And Chad Hawker is in 7^th place and looking great!! My toenail is hurting because my shoe is catching on it. I take it off, fix it, and soon everything's ok again.

At the 10k turnaround I start eating Gu. Now I feel the headwind. I'm 30 secs ahead but my splits really slow down now. Working much harder. Luckily the perfect running temperature is keeping the heart rate in a good zone. On the way back they loop us around through some side streets which is a nice break from the wind. I find a parked speed boat perfect height to stretch my hamstrings. I tell the volunteers to thank the owner.

16K and I'm now 40 secs behind pace. Starting to give up on achieving a 3:20. My Cytomax is gone but I continue with Gu and water. I realize I should have used the tailwind on the way out to build more of a cushion. I forget about time and just try to run fast and efficiently each km.

21K, back at the finish line, they give us a white arm band, our "needs" bag (with more Cytomax and Gu), and send us back out for lap 2. I'm surprised that I'm back on pace with a 1:40 split! But this time I'll use the tailwind and buy some time on the out stretch. I see Jeff's girlfriend, Kat, encouraging me and the others.

25k I see Chad still in 7^th but laboring to maintain pace. This has got to be his best race ever! At 28k the legs hurt and I'm real uncomfortable. I think about how I cope with other painful or worrisome times in my life... I just trust in God. And knowing it's His will I finish, I'm able to trust that He'll make the legs work till the end and I'm just along for the ride. I feel separated from my legs and much more relaxed and positive now. Because of the double out 'n back I get to see teammates, Jeff, Gerry & Tana, and they're all having great races!

At the 31k turnaround I see I'm still exactly on pace and haven't built any margin with the last 6 miles of tailwind. It's not looking good but I head into the wind trying to think, "only a 10k to go!". I eat more Gu, but I'm falling behind. My friend, Chris Pendray, rides along for a while encouraging me. I stretch on the speed boat again.

By 36K I'm almost 2min behind. I realize I've come too far to let 3:20 slip away so I dig deep and start ramping it up. I resort to the Power Aid. Each km is faster.

40k I hear footsteps behind matching my pace. I know they're after the qualifying slot that I want to get and hand down. I hardly feel my legs... just picking up the knees faster. Heart rate finally goes above anaerobic threshold. I pull away. I sprint towards the grandstands. I hear them announce my secret nickname from back home, "...in Grass Valley his friends call him Kiwi!" And then I see the clock. 9:49. What a beautiful number. After a prayer and then some calculations I realize I made up the 2min and achieved my 3:20 marathon goal! My splits were 56:34 swim, (3:31 transition), 5:26:48 bike, (2:22 transition), and 3:19:45 run.

My other goal was to win a qualifying slot and hand it down. The next day, the guy that pushed me so hard in the last 2km, came up to thank me for passing up the slot so he could go to Hawaii. His name was Jeff Fieldhack, from Silicon Valley, a good triathlete that I had wanted to meet but never was able to. Jeff and Chad Hawker were 2 of 4 Americans to qualify at New Zealand.

Jeff and Tana, unknowingly, came in close together around 11:45 and Gerry finished at 12:45. All of them met their preset goals also. We had a great, exciting, slow-moving celebration later that night.

The Taupo residents stood in the rain for 17hrs to watch every athlete finish. A truly awesome town for an Ironman.

Thanks everyone for your prayers and thoughts and especially the e-mails that you sent to me in New Zealand, some of which the race director announced over the loudspeakers before the start of the race. What a feeling to hear encouragements from around the world as I'm walking to the swim start.

This trip was everything I hoped for and more.