The title says it all: Happiness, Tears, and Pain; the rollercoaster of emotions I experienced while completing my first Ironman 70.3 was incredible. I don’t know what went through my head when I initially signed up for this, but I’m so glad I got to experience it. Although, like most endurance events I’ve participated in, I was undertrained for it. Here is my Ironman 70.3 story.
- If you want to skip the backstory and get to the start line, click here.
Signing Up for my First Ironman 70.3
Early this year, 2023, I considered myself very fit. I had a good balance of cardio and strength training and felt unstoppable. I was working as an ornamental plant manager (read more about me here) at the time and didn’t have many responsibilities, so I casually decided to take on a greater challenge, the Ironman 70.3 Florida.
After signing up for the event, within a month or two, I decided to drop the gym I was going to in order to focus my training on the Ironman.
The Beginnings
The only thing I knew about an Ironman was that it was a triathlon, which meant I would be swimming, biking, and running. Being mostly a runner, I was excited to add two more sports to my life. I was previously a mountain biker which is the complete opposite of road biking, and I had no swimming experience.
I felt like the first step for me was to take a swimming class, as the only stroke I knew how to properly do was a “doggy paddle”. However, shortly after signing up for the Ironman, the complications began.
First Hurdles
Being a hurdler in middle school, I naturally knew how to overcome tough obstacles, right? About a month after signing up for the Ironman, I switched jobs. I took a pay cut to have less stress and to be closer to home. This helped tremendously mentally; however, it created a financial hurdle where I couldn’t afford lessons or coaches to help me on my first Ironman 70.3 adventure.
After deciding to just take one swimming class to know how to swim properly, I decided this Ironman challenge would have to be tackled solo. But that’s just the first hurdle in this journey, I should have probably done more research before just signing up for an Ironman because that leads me to my next issue which is the bike.
I Made an Oopsie…
Now this is completely my fault for not doing my research. I’m not sure why I thought that bikes would be provided to the athletes at the event. I figured these events are about everyone having a level playing field, not about having a speed boost if you’re financially wealthy… oops.
I now had to dig into my funds to purchase a bike for the event. No, you don’t need a multi-thousand-dollar bike to compete in this event; in fact, I met some people who had a really cheap bike. However, I talked myself into a nice carbon fiber bike for future events.
So, I now have all the gear necessary for the event, I took a one-hour lesson on how to swim, and I have this new job that’s closer, which gives me more time to practice; what can go wrong?
Schooling
Let’s complicate my life more by thinking of a better future. Several years ago, I dropped out of college because I didn’t feel like school was for me. However, in 2022, I returned and acquired a Plant Science Certificate, but I wanted more. I wanted that piece of paper that said I had a bachelor’s in whatever. Well, I decided to start taking classes again for a Bachelors in Business.
I apparently enjoy creating my own obstacles in life, but I promise that was the last one. The next couple of obstacles were all mind games for me.
Family
I’m close to my family and care deeply for them. You’ll see how they supported me in my first Ironman 70.3 later on. However, about 5 months before the event started, I got a phone call about my grandfather having a stroke and half his face paralyzed. It’s now something that’s in the back of my head every day as I haven’t seen him in a while.
When I train, I try to disconnect myself from the world and all the problems around me. I feel that it’s necessary in order to concentrate on the training; however, it’s hard to do when there’s a lot going on and when you can’t get a steady workout schedule since you have a dynamic work schedule.
Training Schedule and Friends
There was none. I didn’t have a steady schedule at all. I trained when I could. I would try to do at least two swims, three runs, and one bike ride a week, but I would almost never achieve this.
My schedule was overcrowded with work, school, my girlfriend Alex, and chores, that I could barely do anything else. The only thing I would do in my downtime was train. I didn’t hang out with friends, making them think I was anti-social.
It was a rough couple of weeks getting ready and fitting in training when I could for my first Ironman 70.3, but there were many hurdles still to come.
Stress – One Week Until the Event
Fast forward to the week before the event. I’m feeling extremely nervous, stressed, and anxious. At this point, I’ve already been through a lot and just want the race to be over. I felt extremely undertrained, but I was as ready as ever. There was nothing else I could do; I just had to take it easy this week and get through the event.
With months of training behind me, I still hated swimming; it was the worst of the three sports. I was not looking forward to the swim and did not properly train for it at all. Aside from a couple of pool sessions and three smaller triathlons over the summer, that was all the swimming practice I had.
Event Conditions
At the one-week mark, what stressed me out the most was seeing that the temperatures were forecasted to be in the 40s-60s with thunderstorms. That’s when something hit me.
Remember when I promised school was the last obstacle? I lied. I got into my own head because of the predicted weather.
I had never trained in cold weather before; I swam in warm pools and biked during the heat. I was unprepared for what was coming and kept thinking negatively about not finishing instead of being positive. I had completely crossed my mind that it might be cold in December.
Event Support
I’ve never had a huge support group at the events I do. Family was always far away, and my friends never came to cheer me on; however, at this event, my family was coming up to support me.
One week before the event, while I’m freaking out about the conditions, I get another call. This time, my grandma had a stroke. I start to feel as if everything is falling apart. My grandfather hasn’t recovered, and now my grandma is in the hospital.
My Health
It felt as if everything was coming down in the last few days. Even though I felt calm throughout the day, my stress levels were through the roof. My left eye was twitching non-stop throughout the day. I had this massive bump come out near my eye. And I was overly concerned about a certain number in my blood work.
The Turn Around – Three Days Until the Event
This last week was hectic but some things helped lighten it up. The good news was that everyone, but my grandfather who was ill, was still coming to cheer me on. I hadn’t seen my family in so long that at this point, I didn’t care if I finished or not. I was ready to get this thing over with.
I took Friday off of work to prep everything for Saturday. This is when it started to set in. This event was happening on Sunday and there was no turning back. Saturday, we dropped off the bike; I ensured I had everything ready for the morning and went to sleep to wake up rested for…
Race Day
Staring out into the lake at the giant ‘M’ shaped swim was daunting. It was race day; I was here, and so was Alex. My family would join later.
It worried me that my family would join later because they wouldn’t have seen anything if I failed the swim. It just added more pressure to try and get things done.
Swim
It was 7 am; the event started. I filed myself into the middle of the enormous 1700+ person group and inched forward towards the start of the swim. It was a rolling start; they would only release three swimmers every five seconds or so.
I somehow got pushed towards the back of the group but was coming up to the start. Nerves were through the room. I saw Alex at a distance and was waving to her, but she couldn’t see me and didn’t wave back. I felt lonely and scared for what was about to happen. It felt like I was going to war.
I’m at the front, and the alarm sounds. The water touches my toes; a cold 69 degrees. All that kept going through my head was my training. I get into my swimming position, and as I put my head below the water… panic sets in.
I couldn’t understand why I kept panicking. I couldn’t control it. It’s like I forgot how to breathe anytime my head would go below the water. It’s time to change strategies.
I began swimming freestyle but with my head above the water. This was extremely uncomfortable. Not only did it make me slower, but my neck kept rubbing against the wetsuit.
Am I There Yet?
I glanced down at my watch and saw it had already been 20 minutes, and I hadn’t even completed the first part of the ‘M’ shaped swim. Doubt was setting into my mind. I told myself it was it. I’m not completing my first Ironman 70.3.
Since my head was above the water the entire time, I saw what others were doing. People were hanging on to the boats, and others were calling for help. I was about halfway through the swim and feeling exhausted. My neck was aching and I kept switching my swim technique to things I never practiced before. I wanted to grab onto a boat so bad, especially when they would get in your way, like in the last portion of the ‘M’ shaped swim. But I knew if I did that, I was definitely a goner.
I looked down at my watch again, it said one hour and two minutes. The cutoff for the swim was an hour and ten minutes after the last swimmer entered. I had no idea what time that was; I just knew I was approaching that time for myself.
I tried putting my foot on the floor but kept sinking down; I wasn’t there yet. The archway was close. I glance at my watch one last time: one hour and fifteen minutes. I thought that was it. I failed. My heart sank as I was coming out of the water. But then I realized no one was stopping me; people were still there, cheering.
Oh my gawd! I made it. Final swim time – 1:16:10 (Technically a DNF because I didn’t complete it in under 1:10:00).
Cycle
Now, it’s onto the next segment, a 56-mile bike ride. I quickly get into the transition area and change into my bike gear. I wear my running backpack to carry all my snacks because I don’t know if I’ll run out of liquids or food.
During the first portion of the bike, I feel great. It’s setting in that I never have to swim again. The biggest hurdle I’ve had for the year is over. I’m tearing up about that fact. It feels great like I’m on top of the world. Nothing can stop me now.
The bike ride was long, and the road wasn’t the best, but I pushed on. Since I wasn’t a professional, I would stop to eat. It wasted some time, but I felt fine.
When I reached the halfway point, I saw a cutoff time of 12:30 pm. I glanced at my watch and realized I was only 8 minutes from the cutoff time from the bike. Back into panic mode. I HAVE to keep this pace up, or I’m done.
A couple of more hours later, I see the end in sight. It’s the final stretch before getting back into the transition. I now see my family in the street with signs and hear them yelling cheers. Tears come to my eyes as I get into the transition area and put on my running shoes to begin the running portion.
I can’t believe I barely made this cutoff again. Final bike time – 4:13:44.
Run
Finally, my bread and butter… running. I laced up my shoes and began my run. It was two laps around the lake and 13 miles left until I completed my first Ironman 70.3. The end was near.
As I begin my run, I see a sign posting a second lap cutoff time of 3:10 pm. Glanced at my watch again. It’s about 1:30 pm; that gives me an hour and forty minutes to complete 6.6 miles.
I kept a solid pace under 15 minutes a mile and was on track to beat the cutoff. However, around mile 5, my body had enough. I wasn’t tired, but my legs were. The cramps began.
I cycled between running and walking. I would push my legs to the cramping point before backing off and walking. I grabbed fuel from every aid station and had enough to take about four more miles. My legs did not want to go further, but I kept pushing.
I made the running cutoff by less than ten minutes. Seems like a reoccurring thing for me in this race. Alex and my brother started running by my side while cheering me on. They gave all the words of encouragement that they could as I walked. My cramps were becoming unbearable.
When they turned around and left me, it became a whole different race. I was now racing by myself. There was not a soul in sight. I, Alain Vega, was the last runner on the track.
The Lonely Run
This was the biggest mental game I ever played. Cramping out in the middle of nowhere, alone, with a soul to help you. It was rough. I didn’t know if anyone knew I was still on the track. The aid stations were few and far between and had mostly picked up already.
I will say the volunteers were absolutely amazing. They cheered me on and gave me a glimpse of hope anytime I saw them.
The Final Mile
As I was limping across the track, I stared at my watch again. I knew the event ended at 5 pm, so I had to make it to the finish before then. I looked down and see it’s around 4:40 pm. That gives me 20 minutes to make a mile. That’s very doable. At my slow limping pace, I was making about 18 minutes a mile, so I kept that up.
With just half a mile left, about two turns left, I pass an officer and thank him for sticking through the end of the race. At that point, my right calf gave up. I dropped to the floor in pain.
The officer comes over to assist me. I tell him my right calf is done. You can see the calf pulsating without an end in sight. I couldn’t bend forward to stretch it because everything else was cramping: my arms, thighs, chest, you name it. The officer pushed my leg back to help stretch the calf; it was much-needed relief, and I thanked him for everything he did. I couldn’t believe this was happening when the end was so close. He helped me back up so that I could finish the race.
Finish Line
As I come around the final street corner to get in view of the “Ironman Village,” I see it’s mostly empty, and employees started to pick everything up. But at a distance, I hear yelling. Tears rush through my eyes as I limp closer to the finish line. It’s 4:52 pm and I can see the archway. My family surrounds me to give me that final push.
- The video below is my last-minute, tear-jerking finish.
What an incredible journey, and once again, I barely made the cutoff. Final run time – 3:29:56.
Total time for my first Ironman 70.3 – 9:15:19
You read that right. I exercised for nine hours and fifteen minutes. And I burnt a total of 4,285 calories, according to my watch.
Final Thoughts on My First Ironman 70.3
You’re probably wondering, would you ever do this again? If you want my honest answer, it’s a “no,” just because of the swimming. However, would I do another endurance event that would take me this long or longer? The answer would probably be a “yes,” just not right now. I need a break for a bit. Even though I have a full marathon coming up shortly, only three weeks after the Ironman. So, I hope I heal in time.
My first Ironman 70.3 is something I’ll remember and cherish for life. I still tear up just thinking about the event and my journey to complete it. It goes to show that you can do anything you set your mind to. Even though life threw a bunch of curveballs at me, and I technically received a DNF at the event, I’m proud of what I did. I achieved my goal and pushed through the mental struggles.
What are the toughest challenges you overcame, physically or mentally? Would you ever do a physically challenging event like an Ironman? Let me know your stores in the comments below.
If you need help creating and achieving goals, check out this blog about How to Achieve Your Goals Without Giving Up.