Finish Well

I woke up on October 20th, in Clermont, Florida ready for the day. I ate breakfast, shaved and brushed my teeth, and then out of nowhere I became emotional. I couldn’t believe I actually had an opportunity to pursue this dream. I had also been reflecting.

When my father was 54 years old, he died of cancer and I remembered the hands of those who wanted to simply touch his casket at the funeral. Now, at 54, my wife, two daughters and their husbands, and my two sons are about to watch me live to the fullest: their hands and voices cheering me on to completion. When you add the fact that just two years earlier I had a cancerous prostate removed, I was about to embark on a significant achievement for my family and me.

One of my goals as a father has been to influence the lives of my children so that they will have the greatest success. I was flooded with emotion as I realized that I was about to give each of them a lasting memory of what it means to finish well. This was going to be a great day … or two.

My gear was prepared for transition. My wetsuit was on. Although in comparison to the others, my bike looked like an uninvited guest at a black tie event, but it didn’t matter. I was at the party, and it was time to dance. I’ve got this!

The swim started, and I am already in big trouble. Within the first five minutes all my confidence waned as a 20 mph head wind made the lake rough for the swim. I also did not plan on the Adrenalin rush. My heart raced. Before I could reach the first buoy I flipped on my back to catch my breath and slow my heart. Suddenly, I see someone on a surf board come over and say, “Hey sir, are you ok?” For a brief moment I wondered if they would have to pull me out of the water. If that happened, I’d be back home in South Florida before lunch and I would never know if I had what it took to finish.

I finally calmed down as I remembered the song, “Be Still and Know That I Am God”. Just stroke and breathe…stroke and breathe. Making headway, but constantly off course, I finished the first lap in 55 minutes, but I was behind my self-imposed schedule. At the turnaround one of my son-in-laws said I should get the award for walking the furthest into the water before I started the second lap.

I felt calmer this time around. As I made the final turn to head back to shore, the waves really started rocking, the sun came out from under the clouds, and I became seasick (as in treading water and vomiting). I didn’t know that was even possible while you swam! If it weren’t for the help of wearing a wetsuit I would still be swimming. One hour and fifty-five minutes. I finished part one. I was still in the race and I was exhausted. I’ve got this.

As I changed into my bike gear, I found some comfort in the changing area.  There were six other men in transition.  I’m not last… yet. The bike portion began well.  I was hydrating and eating the planned food and the aide stations were well stocked with friendly volunteers.  The strategy worked and the bike performed well.  Except for a brief moment when my chain got stuck, everything went smoothly.  My shoes released easily from the pedals.  I still walked up that big hill, yet I saved a lot of energy.  No flats. A great ride, even though each lap took longer than the last.  I even received encouragement from an unexpected source.  As the leaders passed me on the second lap they each told me to keep working hard, I will make it.

After I finished lap two, 75 miles now completed, I began riding the final 38 miles. This was further than I have ever ridden. I was in the final frontier. When I finally would make it to the top of a hill, I had just enough energy to hang on downhill in low gear so I could grind out another hill. There were numerous times when my legs were on the verge of cramping, “Pain is just weakness leaving the body” resounded in my mind. The bike finish cut-off time was 6:30 p.m. and I was in at 5:57 p.m. Time to spare.

As I came into the bike finish, in front of family and many onlookers, I released my left shoe from the pedal with no problem, but the shoe stuck in the rear spokes and before I could plan an escape I was down. My family was screaming, onlookers gasped and I felt like a fool. I got up quickly with nothing bruised but my ego, and one hundred feet later I crossed the bike finish line. I had trained well and I was on target. All I have to do is walk 26.2 miles. No problem! I’ve got this now!

My walk started while it was still daylight. I was focused and determined, and I began with a surprisingly fast walking pace. Other runners were still on the course so at least I had company. The course was three laps on a very wide walking trail, with about a 3/4 mile steep hill per lap. A large part of the course ran next to Lake Minneola and was lined with antique style streetlights. My first lap took 2 hours and 4 minutes, a decent pace. I was on target. I mostly walked with the occasional trot. I felt confident as I approached the second lap.

After about a mile, I realized my legs and feet were not happy. My quadriceps were in knots and they were on the verge of cramping. My feet were bruised and blisters had developed over half of both feet. I was in big trouble. After a few more miles the trotting stopped, and all I have left is a much slower paced walk. It was after 11:00 p.m. when I started lap three. Nine miles to go. Keep standing. Walk forward. Don’t stop. On the last lap there are only a few of us left. Some can still trot and they pass me. A few call it a night and abandon the last lap. They don’t finish. The men of my family joined me. There will be no competive advantage for me; I’m at the end of the line. They simply provided encouragement and safety on an isolated journey.

The aide stations had been unmanned for the last hour. It’s just me and Peter who passes me early and Henry who passes me late. The officials from Sommer Sports sent a golf cart out to determine if we truly are the last participants. They told me they would be waiting. I’m close.

There was no short run of victory through the finish line, only a slow, deliberate and measured walk. The grass was unsteady under my feet. And just like the first place finisher, the finish line banner was stretched out and waited for me. Cheers, cameras, smiles and hugs poured in from my family, and the 5 officials who remained. No one else was there. Sommer Sports gave me a GFT Finisher T-Shirt and a medal, “Stronger than Iron”. I had finished.

After 18 hours and 46 minutes and 10 seconds at 2:16:10 a.m. on October 21, 2012, the day after I began, I realized a dream. I had completed an Ultra Distance Triathlon (140.6 total miles). I finished!

I have attended sporting events for all four of our children and now our grandchildren. The goal has always been to finish strong and to finish well, but no matter what….finish. Perseverance is a character quality everyone should have.

Don’t just tell your kids to persevere, live a story that requires perseverance. They will never forget.

It is your legacy. Finish!

Keith Albert # 7 2012 Great Floridian Triathlon

Finisher 18:46:10

A Crazy Plan

Your kids and grandkids love the details of how you pursue your dreams and adventures, even if they are crazy.

March 2012 – If I could swim 2.4 miles without drowning in open water, and if I could ride a bike 112 miles, then surely I can walk 26.2 miles to finish. That’s all I want to do is simply finish and get the t-shirt.

After telling my wife, the first thing I did was to go to the community pool. If I can’t swim, then the dream is crushed again, but it’s worth a try. Drowning is not an option. I researched swim training. I’m slow – real slow. But, I make progress.

The biggest decision was which triathlon to attempt. I settled on a race called the The Great Floridian in Clermont, Florida. It was only a few hours away from home, but most importantly, the results from the previous years included the times and names of those who finished after the ending time of 1:00 a.m. This meant that if I didn’t finish by the race’s official cut off time, they would still “keep the lights on”. This proved to be my best decision.

The Great Floridian – October 2012 – Paid the Registration. Let’s go!

Tell the details of your big adventure. Let your kids know how you planned or researched something that was important to you. The details make the story come alive.

Pay the registration.

It is your legacy. Tell the story.

(This is Part 4 of attempting an endurance triathlon.)