Competing at Ironman Kona first entered his mind in February of this year.

Universal Sports president Carlos Silva ran his first two marathons in 2008 – Boston and New York - and he also finished a half-marathon and five triathlons during that time. In reality though, he wasn’t sure that doing Kona 2009 was a realistic goal.

“I sorta started training for it but honestly, I wasn’t really sure that I’d do it,” Silva said recently. “And, I also wasn’t sure that I wanted to do it. I started doing some longer runs and longer rides and I started thinking, ‘Do I really want to go that far?’”

Eight months and thousands of miles later, Silva turned that far-fetched thought into a reality.

A few weeks ago, Silva competed in the world’s most famous triathlon, Ironman Kona. His time was 13:07:08 – more than respectable for someone competing in his first Ironman-distance race. And, although that initial seed was planted in February, Silva realized in June that he could actually finish what would become the longest workout of his life.

“I did an Olympic-distance tri in the beginning of June [in Washington, D.C.],” he said. “I kinda had it in my brain that I was gonna do Kona at that point. Olympic distance is not short. I had a really good run, I think I ran a 7:08 pace. It was a really fast run for a 10k for me. I just decided that I felt good and I could step it up. I think the run at that race really showed me that I could push hard. I said, ‘You know, I can do this.’

“That was the moment where I really started putting in longer [training] weekends. That’s when I said, ‘I’ll do it,’ and I started training harder for it.”

However, it wasn’t as if Silva went from running two marathons and a handful of multisport races to doing Kona. He’s been a runner since winning cross-country races as a seventh grader, and started biking 10 years ago. He started swimming about four years ago, the same year he began doing sprint and Olympic triathlons.

His breakout year, however, was 2008. Finishing two marathons – he did New York in 3:21:46 - one half-marathon and five triathlons (including a 70.3, half-Ironman race) gave him the confidence that he could keep climbing the ladder of endurance races. Following his performance in New York – which left him “really sore for three solid days” – Silva got right back to training.

The now 45-year-old Silva said he worked out for all but two days between New York and Kona, minus his taper that came two weeks before the big race on Oct. 10. They weren’t your basic 10- or 15-mile runs, either. Nor were they a typical 50-mile bike ride.

“Post-New York my longest run was probably 15 miles, but my hardest run was actually a 14-mile run from 500 feet to 3,500 feet up Wintergreen Mountain [in Virginia],” Silva said. “Which is usually a climb I do on my bike, but I decided that it would be painful and that I needed to spend two hours in pain because it’s pretty much uphill the whole way. It was a 2-hour, 15-minute run. It wasn’t fast, but I knew that grinding like that would feel a lot like it would in Kona. And it was a hot day, it was the summertime. It was one of my best mental training days.

“My longest ride was probably around 85 miles, and it was also on a hot August day down on the beach. It was windy; I tried as close as I could to simulate Kona. I started at Ocean City [Md.] and I rode to Delaware on the road, down and back. At the end of that ride, I also transitioned with my car in the parking lot into my running gear and ran nine miles. I tried to simulate feeling tired and having to do another leg a couple of different times.

“And the next day I went out and rode another 70 miles. I wanted my body to work when it was tired because I knew that’s what it would be like when I was over there [in Hawaii].”

Silva normally rides his bike to Universal Sports’ East Coast office in the Washington, D.C. suburbs, stretching the short trip into an 18-mile trek each way. When he’s at the Los Angeles office, he wakes up at 5:30 a.m. and goes for a run – usually for an hour to an hour and a half.

At home on the weekends, Silva made use of his pool by doing his own triathlons – swimming a mile-plus, transitioning to the bike in his garage, going for a bike ride, transitioning to the run in his garage and then going for a run. Instead of giving his body time to rest the following day, he would work out again.

All of this work chiseled Silva into an endurance machine. He had punished his body for months and months with one goal in mind: Finish Kona in around 13 hours.

The 2.4-mile swim in Kona was the longest of his life – his previous high was about two miles. He said the distance did not bother him, but having to go in a straight line for 1.2 miles created a mental obstacle he needed to overcome. But once he turned for the homestretch, it wasn’t nearly as bad.

Swim time: 1:26:47.

Silva used the first 40 miles or so of the bike course as a warmup, not pushing himself too hard. There were 112 miles on two skinny wheels between him and the run course, so he needed to conserve his energy and settle into a nice pace. At 80 miles though, Silva said he nearly hit a wall.

“I think I’m a good biker but I don’t think I really realized how tired my bike legs would be at 80 miles,” he said. “There was no way to factor in how windy it was. There were times at the 85th mile where I was like, ‘I’m not moving anywhere.’ Between my legs being tired and the winds blowing so hard, I really felt weak; and I really don’t feel weak that often on the bike. But I’m also a lot stronger climber than a grinder. I’m a lot happier going up a steep mountain and maintaining bursts of energy versus grinding it in a time trial.”

He gutted it out though, and with his bike-course nutrition plan of peanut butter crackers and Gatorade, he managed to make his way back to the transition area, lace up his running shoes and head out to the run course.

Bike time: 6:53.11.

A runner since his adolescent years, Silva suddenly felt in the zone when he started the 26.2-mile run. And, he said it was a strange feeling to run a marathon but not think of it as a marathon. It was simply part of the race.

“It’s a weird thing to think about that I ran a marathon,” he said. “I never told anyone I ran a marathon; when I ran the two marathons [in 2008] I was bragging about how I ran a marathon. I haven’t told anyone that I ran a marathon [in Kona], and I did.

“But I didn’t really think of it as a marathon; I thought of it as 26 miles. I even counted it that way. Every time I ran past a mile marker I told myself, ‘One down, 25 to go. Six down, 20 to go.’ I did it that way and it worked, mentally.”

He said that mile 18 was the toughest portion of the run course for him. He had just left the Energy Lab, a government research facility located shortly after the halfway point. From there, Silva still had another 6.2 miles left in the race. He had survived the run on Gatorade, three goo packs and a few cups of cola (offered at the hydration stations to give runners sugar and caffeine).

Starting at mile 15 though, race volunteers began offering another item at the water stops – dinner rolls.

“About mile 15, they started doing chicken broth – maybe for the sodium?,” Silva said. “But they had little egg dinner rolls with the chicken broth, so I tried one and it was awesome. Throughout the next few miles I started eating rolls, slowly in small bites. I abandoned goo at that point, I was done.

“I didn’t eat the last five miles of the race, I was done. I was done drinking, I was done with everything. I couldn’t drink anymore Gatorade.”

With 1.5 miles left, Silva relaxed and allowed himself to enjoy the moment. He ran the last mile in 8:50 as he pushed with everything he had left.

Run time: 4:37.41.

His painful day was over 13 hours, 7 minutes, 8 seconds after it began.

He was an Ironman.

“I feel like I’ve done three of the greatest races: I’ve done the Boston Marathon, I’ve run the New York Marathon and I’ve done the Kona Ironman,” Silva said. “It’s three of the great races in the world.

“It feels great to say that I did an Ironman. It’s not that I just did an Ironman, I did the worst, hottest, most brutal one. If I never do anything else I’ll know that I’ve done that.”

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I am a 55.3. What’s your number?

Since I started training for triathlons in April, I’ve employed one simple method during workouts: Go out and swim, bike or run. The only goal I had for each workout was to go as far as possible at a pace I could sustain. I never measured my heart rate or paid any attention to the physiology of what I was doing.

With this in mind, I recently drove to Total Performance, Inc. in Lutherville, Md. to visit with triathlon coaches Krista Schultz and David Glover. Krista is the director Total Performance, while David runs Endurance Works. The reason for my visit was to take a VO2 max test.

A what?

A VO2 max test.

In short, the test calculates your aerobic and anaerobic thresholds, plus your VO2 max number. That number, which takes into effect respiration and body weight, is the “maximum volume of oxygen the body uses during one minute of maximal exercise,” according to VO2maxtesting.net.

***Click here for a photo gallery of Jason’s test at Total Performance, Inc.***

Still confused? I am a bit perplexed myself. But what I do understand is that the results sheet that Krista handed to me (and explained in excellent detail) is very telling.

Before I go any further, I’ll reveal my VO2 max number: 55.3! To put that in perspective, the computer predicted - based on my weight - that I would be a 44.4. And, at nearly 30 years old, I fall in the 40-48 bracket. So I was pretty happy with my final result. In addition, I could have kept going during the test and I’m convinced that my number is closer to 60. More on that in a bit.

Back to the results sheet. Aside from the VO2 max figure, one thing I learned about from my test was RER (respiratory exchange ratio). RER is the ratio of carbon dioxide you exhale versus the amount of oxygen you take in at a given exercise intensity. A lower RER means that you are able to break down more fats (an unlimited fuel source) rather than carbohydrates (a limited fuel source).  An RER of 0.85 means that you are burning approximately 50 percent fat and 50 percent carbohydrate. As exercise intensity increases, your body must rely more and more on carbohydrates as a fuel source. Anything over 1.00 means you are basically are burning primarily carbohydrates.

After one minute of the test - which involved strapping some high-tech gizmos onto my face and head to measure my breathing as I ran on a treadmill - my RER was 0.83. At 1:31 it had jumped to 0.97, then 0.99 at 3:00. About a minute later, I was 1.01.

This makes perfect sense to me because when I run, I tire very quickly. Usually in the first mile I feel very tired but shortly after that, I’ll settle into a groove and cruise the rest of the way. If I can teach my body to tap into its fat stores earlier and stop using carbohydrates to much, I can remedy this.

Another important figure I took away from the test was my anaerobic threshold, also known as the lactate threshold (LT). My heart rate at the LT was 171 beats per minute and it occurred when my RER number jumped (and stayed for the remainder of the test) above 1.00 at the 6:30 mark.

Lactate threshold, according to David, is the point above which lactate, a byproduct of muscle activity from the breakdown of carbohydrates, begins to accumulate more rapidly in the blood. Exercising above the LT is not sustainable for a long period of time, but you can increase this number with training.

So that was quite telling.

But onto the actual test.

When I arrived shortly before noon, I met with Krista and we shared a few stories about driving in Washington, D.C. traffic, competing in triathlons and everything in between. David then walked in and after a few more pleasantries, I went into the locker room and emerged a few minutes later in running shorts and shoes and a Universal Sports t-shirt (obviously).

Krista weighed me and strapped a heart rate monitor onto my chest, and then had me run at a medium clip for 5-7 minutes on the treadmill to warm up. She discussed the entire test to me during this time, and squashed some of my anxieties with her thorough explanation. I had done some research about VO2 max tests before meeting with them, but I still did not really know what to expect.

After my warmup we stopped the treadmill and I hopped off to grab a drink of water. We talked for a few more minutes as Krista and David answered a few more of my questions (like what they thought my VO2 max number might be). Then the fun began.

Krista fitted a headpiece on me with white straps and clear plastic pieces hanging down from the sides. Then she gave me the mouthpiece, which fit like a sports mouth guard and connected to the headpiece via the clear plastic straps. It had a plastic tube extending from my mouth which she then hooked up to a hose that connected to the computer, and it was held up by a Velcro strap hanging from a metal arm. She completed the preparation by clipping my nose shut with blue rubber nose clips. This would force me to breathe out of my mouth, allowing the sensors to do their thing.

It was all very high tech.

Now that I was back on the treadmill, Krista started the belt and after a few minutes of walking to make sure the computer was functioning properly and to get me comfortable with the equipment, she kicked up the speed to 6 miles per hour and the testing began.

For the first few minutes, she increased the speed of the belt by a few clicks to make me work harder every 60 seconds. Then she started doing this in increments of 30 seconds as the test wore on, trying to max me out and get the highest possible numbers.

With David taking photos and Krista manning the machine and calling out commands, the test went on for 11 and a half minutes. They were both very happy that my VO2 max number kept climbing, and they let me know it.

“42.7!” Krista exclaimed at the 8:01 mark. “You’re doing great! Keep pushing! Let’s get it to 50!”

David chimed in a few times too: “Great job Jason! Keep it going! Don’t let up!”

At 10:31, the machine said I was at 51.5. Wow! I figured I’d be in the 40s, but 50? Thirty seconds later I was 52.8. Still climbing! Krista said I was still increasing and I could keep going, but at any point I could signal to her to stop the machine if I was too tired.

The treadmill was at 12 percent incline and the speed was at 7.5. I had no issues with keeping up with the belt speed-wise, but the hill I was being forced to run up was really taking a toll on me.

The 11:31 reading came through.

“55.3!” Krista yelled. “Wow! Can you keep going? You’re still increasing!”

As pumped up as I was, the incline was really getting to me. I was so gassed and as much as I wanted to keep going, I knew I had stop. My VO2 max number was still increasing so I definitely did not reach my true max (it will plateau once you reach it), but I needed to stop. I signaled to Krista that I was done.

She quickly unhooked me and stopped the treadmill.

Before the testing began, David and Krista both said to me that a lot of people, once they finish the test, say that they could have kept going. I laughed and thought to myself, “Nah, that won’t be me.”

I was wrong.

No more than two minutes after I finished, I uttered those same words. Both coaches got a kick out of that one.

The three of us talked about my test results for probably 30 minutes afterward, and then again over lunch, and I really learned a lot of great information. Scientific numbers aside, I learned that there is a lot more to working out than simply going for a run. Or heading out on my bike or swimming laps.

I learned that if I can control the tempo and pace of my workout, I can actually increase my performance - which will lead to a faster Jason in 2010 and beyond.

Author’s note: Krista Schultz is the director of Total Performance Inc. She specializes in personal training, triathlon coaching and VO2 max testing. Visit her at totalperformanceinc.net.

David Glover runs Endurance Work LLC, an endurance sports coaching and services company. In addition to coaching and competing, he is the race director of the Luray (Va.) Triathlon. Visit his Web site at enduranceworks.net.

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My weekend featured plenty of highs and lows.

High: I ran a 5k in Hartford, Conn. with my girlfriend and another friend.

Low: The Red Sox were swept at the hands of the Angels.

High: For the first time in years, I went on a hayride. Thankfully, it wasn’t a haunted one.

Low: The Patriots lost to the Broncos, and now I owe a colleague here dinner.

Low: The Yankees swept the Twins and will play in the American League Championship Series starting Friday.

As you can see, there was a lot going on. But for the purposes of this blog let’s stick to the 5k.

The race went well; my time was about a minute slower than I had hoped, but I lost some time at the start and in the first half mile of the course as I maneuvered around other folks trying to settle into a pace. Once I hit the one-mile mark I was cruising.

My goal was to break 25 minutes; I finished in 25:40. I’d like to be able to run a 5k in 21-22 minutes next spring, so I foresee lots of winter runs in my immediate future.

I really felt strong during Saturday’s race. The day began when the alarm went off at 4:50 a.m. We seriously questioned why we wanted to drive 45 minutes into the city for a measly 5k, but once we hopped in the car and stopped for a bagel we began to wake up.

There were actually three races going on simultaneously at the Hartford Marathon: a 5k, half-marathon and marathon. As a result, the pre-race atmosphere was quite chaotic. We checked in and received our numbers and free t-shirts (who doesn’t love free t-shirts?), and then walked five or six city blocks to a park that served as the staging area.

Then we maneuvered our way through the thousands of people to the 5k start. To be honest, this felt like just another run for me. I didn’t have any butterflies and I was neither too excited nor overly dreading it. It was 8 a.m. on Saturday and I was content with what I was doing at that moment.

The starting tone went off … I stayed with my girlfriend and our friend for a few hundred meters before saying goodbye to them and jumping ahead. The course was fairly flat, with a long, mildly-steep hill about 1.5 miles in and a short hill toward the end. My training runs, to be honest, have more elevation than this course.

And that suited me just fine.

As I climbed the last short hill and neared the finish line, I could hear the crowd cheering on the runners. Then I noticed the chute ahead of me – you know, the orange fencing that lines the finish line area. I couldn’t see the finish, but I assumed it was about 100 meters away so I started to sprint.

Unfortunately, it was more like 300 meters away. I laughed at myself when I realized this, and had to slow down because I was gassed from running so hard at the wrong time.

I crossed the finish line and immediately reached over to stop the time on my watch – we runners have a crazy habit of keeping time as accurately as possible during a race, even though we’re wearing a timing chip. I grabbed some water, walked around for a few minutes and was fully recovered.

Once all of us were finished with the race, we got together to snap a few photos with our other friends who did not run. Some celebratory drinks at the beer garden followed, and then we left. We were in the car by 10:45 a.m. for the drive home.

In other news, I am taking a VO2 max test on Thursday. I will most definitely write a post about it and create a photo gallery depicting the experience.

It is now 4:35 p.m. ET, meaning I’ll be on my way to the pool in 25 minutes for a swim. It will be my first swim in three weeks and only my third since my triathlon on Aug. 30.

Final tidbit No. 1: I should have a winter training program soon and will probably start that Nov. 1. I will post that as well.

Final tidbit No. 2: Let’s congratulate Universal Sports president Carlos Silva, who completed the Ironman race in Kona, Hawaii over the weekend. It was his first Ironman-distance triathlon and he clocked in at 13:07. Very respectable. Great work, Carlos.

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I have just a few training days remaining before my 5k road race this weekend. I feel really strong and although I certainly won’t finish with the heavy hitters, I’m aiming at a sub-25-minute time. I ran a 24:40 the other day; hoping for the same in tonight’s run.

This week’s schedule is as follows:

Monday: Run 3-4 miles
Tuesday: Possible swim, short run
Wednesday: Run 3-4 miles
Thursday: Flight to New England after work
Friday: Rest, drink fluids
Saturday: Race!

I’d love to sneak in a bike ride somewhere, but I don’t see that happening. Well, unless I wake up insanely early before heading to the office … which probably won’t happen. A morning person I am not.

I’m actually really looking forward to getting back in the water; it’s been way too long. I’ve been thinking about my swim technique a lot and know I have to improve it, but I honestly don’t feel like spending the cash on lessons this winter. However, I do have a solution. Hopefully.

I found a link to Total Immersion on someone’s blog. Total Immersion, from what I gather, is an instructional book and DVD that teaches one how to swim in a revolutionary way. For the record, nobody connected to this product has contacted me; I’m writing about this because I think it can really help.

I’m going to purchase the book and if I like it and see some results, I will certainly post a review in this space.

I have a few other things cooking so stay tuned for more updates.

I am on twitter! Follow me at Triathlon_Jason.

It’s been over a month since my triathlon, and already I want to do another one.

Unfortunately my season is over as the cold weather starts to creep in. It’s been a fantastic year and I can’t wait for 2010.

In the meantime, I am trying to maintain my fitness level before starting a winter training plan in a few months.

I’ve only swam once since my race; a flu virus knocked me down for over a week in mid-September, so I wasn’t able to do anything. I’ve been on my bike twice. Running and I, however, are trying to become better friends. Although I’ve only hit the pavement a handful of times, I am running a 5k road race on Oct. 10. It will be the first of a few races I plan on running this fall.

The next big item on my autumn agenda will be to run a Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving. I have not yet looked for a race but what better time to start than today? I’ll be in New England that week so I’ll choose one up there. Let’s hope for decent weather because I do not like running in the cold. I’m thinking of making this one a 5-miler if I can find one that fits my schedule and location.

Hopefully I’ll compete in one or two more races between those two.

As for biking, I need to visit my local shop to pick up some cold-weather gear. I’ll start with a long-sleeved jersey and go from there.

The plan is to run two or three times a week, and bike and swim at least once a week for the next two months. After that, I will implement a winter training plan that will help me get into even better shape and make me faster. This may or may not include a few swimming lessons; I am basically self-taught in the water and could use some professional instruction.

That’s it for now. I’ll try to update this blog at least once a week over the next month or two.

Thanks for reading.

I am on twitter! Follow me at Triathlon_Jason.

As I darted out of the transition area, my small but very enthusiastic cheering section gave me some much-needed encouragement.

“Let’s go Devaney!” I heard from one friend. It made me smile and momentarily forget about how tired my legs were at that moment.

Remember the long hill I climbed after the swim? The run course starts out by descending that very same hill. I almost lost my footing a few times as I negotiated the dirt- and rock-filled terrain. The wooden steps had begun to rot and did not provide a whole lot of traction.

When I reached the bottom, I took a left and saw what I needed most: a water station. I happily grabbed a cup of water from the race volunteer and drank as much of it as I could while keeping my legs moving.

The course then took me around a small building, parallel to the finish line and onto the paved running trail that would be my life for the next three and a half miles. And let me just say now that this running trail and I are not very close. In fact, we’re bitter enemies.

Most of my training runs for this race were relatively flat, with a few short and not-so-steep hills mixed in. I felt confident in my abilities and knew I’d feel tired after the race, but I could handle the run without too much trouble.

Not this one.

The course veered to the left after a few hundred meters and we were supposed to run two loops. No problem, I thought to myself. Piece of cake.

And then I saw – and felt — the first hill. And after that, the second hill. And the third hill.

This course was definitely not what I expected it to be. There were long and steep hills, short and steep hills and only a few flat sections. Even the downhill sections were tough; I nearly lost my balance on the last descent.

When I reached another water stop, the one positioned at the point where the course begins its loop, I suddenly grew quite depressed. I had to run that whole darn course one more time!

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I’m not a good runner. I’ve never liked to run. A few years ago I was running three times a week and I was pretty good at it, but since then my interest in the sport has pretty much gone away. That being said, even if I was a good runner, I would’ve had trouble with this course.

And, I’ll be the first one to admit that it got in my head. I was absolutely dreading having to complete one more loop. The goal of finishing the race in less than two hours is what kept me going.

I finally came down that big hill, hung a right and entered the final straightaway. And, one again, I was greeted by my fanbase. They somehow spotted me a hundred meters or so down the road.

I glanced down at my watch. Not good. I was convinced that I would fall short in my time goal. I kicked it up a few more notches and sprinted to the finish.

As I ran past my friends and family on the right side of the trail, I slapped hands with them. The finish line was right there! And the clock, the clock! I was going to make it!

I remember crossing the finish line and, instead of celebrating or grabbing some water, the first thing I did was reach down to my ankle, remove my timing chip and hand it to a volunteer (I was completely out of breath, by the way). Then I got some water. My fans walked up shortly after that and I got congratulatory hugs from everyone.

Surprisingly, I felt pretty good. I think the run course got so much in my head that I slowed down my running a little too much. Sure it was a tough course, but I could have shaved a few minutes off my time had I hustled a bit more. I know I could have done so.

The other reason was that since I’d been training for so long, my recovery time was very fast.

Later that day, I went out with a friend for dinner and on the way back to her house, I almost fell asleep. I was utterly exhausted. And my legs were starting to feel the race.

Monday morning was rough. Legs were very tight – all thanks to that darn run. Tuesday brought more soreness, but by Wednesday I felt normal again.

And you know what? It was all worth it. I began this journey in April with one goal in mind: finish a triathlon. I since tweaked that to finish a triathlon in less than two hours. The problem with my bike tire in Luray on Aug. 16 derailed me that weekend, but two weeks ago on Aug. 30, I reached my goal.

It feels great to finally say this: I’m a triathlete!

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I reached the mount/dismount line and climbed onto my bike, but for some reason had a hard time clipping my shoes into the pedals. I was so amped up that I was not focusing.

Finally I was secured to my bike and I pedaled hard out of the parking lot, down a short hill, made a right turn, navigated around a speed bump and exited the park onto the street.

OK, get focused. The swim is over and done; now we’re on the bike.

To be honest, I felt lousy in the first three miles of the bike course. Not because it was difficult; in fact, it was a lot flatter than my first race a few weeks ago. The reason was that I was not drying off enough in the sub-70 degree air at 8:30 a.m. There was no sun and I was cold.

My heart rate was way too high because of this, so I tried to take some deep breaths and focus on a steady breathing pattern. I took a few squirts from my water bottle at mile 3 as I finally started to feel better. I was still cold, but my tri shorts were drying out.

The bike course took us down a main road for a few miles, and then brought us into a loop that we completed twice – only to return the same way we came in. It was a nice ride. Well, except for the potholes and frost heaves left over from an angry New England winter. I’m not used to dodging bullets like that in Virginia.

I finished the first loop and really felt strong. Another squirt of water was in order as I rounded the corner and headed into the second half of the course. I passed a fair number of riders on this leg of the race, but also saw a host of others fly by me. One gentleman, whose name I did not get, was pretty much on pace with me throughout most of the bike course. I’d pass him one minute, and a mile later he’d pedal past me. We repeated this and always said to the other one, “On your left. Again.” as we made our move. It was quite amusing.

I nearly wiped out at mile 12 when someone decided to pass me on the right. I overtook him a minute or two before that on a climb, and as I started my descent down a fairly large hill, I was absolutely startled to see him go flying by on my right side. I was making my way to that side of the lane and had to quickly adjust my steering to avoid a collision.

I don’t know a whole lot about this triathlon thing, but I do know that it is very much illegal (for safety reasons) to pass someone on the right. I almost said something to the guy but I wanted to stay focused and not lose my cool.

I had a race to finish.

And of course, the thought of suffering another flat tire was on my mind the entire time. As the miles ticked away, I kept praying to myself that I’d make it back without incident. When I finished the second loop and realized I had less than two miles left, the anxiety grew even more. I was so close!

Finally I entered the park, went back over the speed bump and turned left into the parking lot that housed the transition area. I reached the top of the short hill and as I reached down to unhook the Velcro fasteners on my bike shoes, my cheering section recognized me and started screaming my name! It was really nice to hear. I sorta pointed to them with my left arm as I worked on getting my feet out of my shoes.

I reached the mount/dismount line. Yes! I had made it.

I ran my bike to transition spot No. 52 (my race number), hung it up on the rack, slipped into my socks and running shoes and took off in the other direction toward the final leg of the race.

The stressful part was over. There were no mechanical problems.

Three and a half miles stood between me and finishing my first triathlon.

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I had cold feet before Sunday’s race – literally.

Mentally I felt fine and I was ready to start, but the air temperature was probably in the low 60s at 8 a.m. Freezing. I estimated the water to be in the mid-70s. Comfortable.

I jumped in the water – wearing only my tri shorts, as I do not own a wetsuit – around 7:40 for a quick swim to test the water and get warmed up. When I returned to the beach about 10 minutes later and joined my fellow competitors in the Journey for Sight Triathlon in my native Massachusetts, my body quickly went from warm to cold.

The air temperature was tolerable, but not when you’re dripping wet and standing in a lake. Coupled with the late start (we didn’t get under way until approximately 8:12), I was struggling. I tucked my hands under my armpits to keep them warm and bounced around to keep the blood flowing. And I still had goose bumps.

When the race finally did start, I took a few long strides before diving headfirst into the Chicopee Reservoir.

I consider myself an effective swimmer but I’m not real fast. I pretty much go one speed. My best 800-meter time in a pool is about 18:00 – not great, but it’s a starting point for someone who’s only been swimming laps for a year (and for only five months seriously).

I felt decent in the first leg of the swim, and felt even better as I neared the floating buoy that signified a left turn. The elite men had already passed so the water around me was relatively clear. As I hit the long backstretch – measuring maybe 400 meters in length? – I settled into a groove. It was like I was back in the pool doing what I love to do – swimming laps.

Still a newbie to open-water swimming, however, I briefly reverted to a backfloat about three quarters of the way to the second and final turn buoy to calm my nerves and take a few deep breaths. After about 15 seconds I flipped back over and continued the journey to the beach.

When I passed the final buoy and began the homestretch, I was pumped. One more quick backfloat 25 meters into the 200-meter leg allowed me to gather myself and stay focused … and to get the water out of my mouth that was churned up by other swimmers in the water. I felt a slight panic overtaking me so I figured a backfloat would do me well. And it did.

I focused on finishing the swim from there. The speed of my kicks increased and I breathed every four strokes instead of every two as the bottom of the lake finally became visible. When my hands scraped the sandy floor, I stood up, ripped off my cap and goggles and ran/waded the final few meters to the beach.

I heard and saw my family and friends cheering me on as I emerged from the water, and again as I ascended up a small staircase that stands between the beach and the road. A tiring run up a steep hill/nature trail followed, opening up to the transition area.

But back to that initial staircase. The steps were so close together that I decided – on a whim – to run up them three at a time.

And then I stumbled.

Completely lost my footing and went down.

The crowd noise switched from cheers to gasps – imagine the sound that echoes around the green when Tiger Woods misses a par putt.

My pride now destroyed, I quickly got up focused on reaching the transition area. My heart was racing and I was cold.

The aforementioned hill proved to be quite difficult and when I reached my transition spot, I was more relieved to have finished climbing that instead of getting through the swim. I slipped into my bike shoes and struggled into my jersey – I had a hard time sliding it down my wet torso, which cost me probably 30 seconds. Then I put on my sunglasses, donned my helmet, lowered my bike from the rack and ran toward the mount line.

I had a 17-mile ride ahead of me. And I knew nothing about the course.

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On Sunday I attempted my second triathlon. We know how the first one ended up (click here for a race report), so tri No. 2 had a bit more riding on it.

And, thankfully, this one had a better outcome.

In just under two hours – my time goal – I completed the Journey for Sight Triathlon in Chicopee, Mass. It was a sprint – 800-meter swim, 17-mile bike, 3.5-mile run.

There were no flat tires this time, although the potholes and frost heaves dotting the New England roads added to my anxiety as the miles ticked off the bike course. But when I got to within 200 yards of the transition area – with my small but enthusiastic cheering section encouraging me – I knew I was home free.

I unhooked the Velcro straps on my bike shoes and removed me feet just before the dismount line, then hopped off my bike. A little over a minute later, I had switched over to the run portion of the race and was sailing down the hill that signifies the start of the day’s final leg.

The run course was quite challenging and I easily lost a few minutes on my time navigating the hilly trek that weaved through the woods and along the Chicopee Reservoir. I kept glancing at my watch as the finish line approached and thought for sure I wasn’t going to hit my goal.

I geared up and gave it all I had in the final 100 yards before crossing the finish line in 1:59:39.

I was probably one of the last people to finish in my age group, but I don’t care. I just wanted to finish this thing. Now I can look at the results and use my times as starting points for next season. I know where I need to improve.

Be sure to check back all week as I break down each portion of the race in more detail.

I can finally call myself a triathlete!

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Until I got a flat tire near the end of the bike course in Sunday’s Luray Sprint Triathlon, I was cruising. I felt strong and was in total control.

Although the mechanical issue ruined my day and ended my race prematurely, I was happy with how I performed on the bike course. Below is a breakdown of that portion of the race.

Update: I received an e-mail this morning from the race staff. Click for photos of me!

I ran my bike out of the transition area and when I reached the mount/dismount line a few meters down the road, I hopped on, clipped in and started pedaling out of the park. My heart was still pumping pretty hard after the swim and the subsequent transition period, so I concentrated on taking some deep breaths. There is a hill in the first mile of the course and I needed to be ready for it.

I exited the park, raced down the first straightaway and then took a left up the short hill. At this point I was still thinking about my swim and how I could have improved it; I needed to force that out of my mind and focus on pedaling.

I reached the top of the hill. Finally! It really isn’t a tough climb, but it’s a shock to the system to have that at the beginning of the course.

And then the fun started.

Aside from one slight incline after that, the remainder of the first 5.5 miles is downhill. There were a few times when I reached 35 miles per hour racing down the course. So much fun! I’ve learned to push those thoughts of, “I should slow down because I might crash” out of my head. I always have good control over my bike. Plus I was racing against the clock.

It felt like I was on a roller coaster. The course emerges out of the trees after a few miles and winds through rolling farmland. We went around high-banked turns, straight downhill sections and slight inclines … followed by more downhill parts. It was great and I made up a ton of time.

Miles 6-8.5 are a slow climb, capped with a short but steep trek up another hill. I remember passing a few people on this hill, and then watched as a few elite folks flew by me. “How are they going so fast?” I thought to myself. They had all sorts of cool bikes – aerobars, crazy-looking wheels, etc. I was OK with them passing me, what with my basic road bike and all. I’m thinking about upgrading to a time trial bike next season.

The third section of the course is flatter, with only a handful of hills to ascend and descend. It’s definitely the most boring portion section. I used this part to take a few squirts of water – at this point my mouth was like sawdust. I also started to see sweat on the new racing sunglasses I bought the day before, which annoyed me. It was on the inside and I couldn’t do anything about it.

Around mile 13, the course flattens out and continues to weave through the Luray countryside. There is a long straightaway with a few small rolling hills, which is followed by a downhill portion and two steep climbs. After that, you head back to the park and start the run.

I felt great at mile 13. I was already thinking about the run and how I would get through the transition No. 2. I grabbed another sip of water, got into an aerodynamic position and kept chugging along.

About a mile and a half later, I heard what has since become my least favorite sound: the rush of air escaping from a bike tire.

For a second I thought I was daydreaming. But then I realized I wasn’t. I had to unclip my shoes fast and get off this bike.

I stopped, jumped off and looked at the tire.

Flat.

I let off a string of choice words that I’ll leave out of this G-rated blog, and then tried to figure out what the heck I was going to do. I had all the necessary items to change a tire, but I had never actually done so. I watched someone at my local bike shop replace a tube once but that was it.

I feverishly opened up the small pouch behind my seat and took everything out – spare tube, prying tools, Co2 canister. I removed the damaged rear wheel from the bike and started working on taking the tire off.

No luck. I couldn’t do it.

As I sat in a heap of rubber and metal off the side of the road, my fellow racers shouted things of encouragement.

Keep at it, you’ll bounce back on the run!

You’re doing great!

And there were things said that I already knew.

Oh man, that sucks!

I probably heard that one a dozen times.

Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes. Twenty-five minutes.

At this point I knew my race was over; now I was focusing on getting back to the park. I had the tire off and was trying to inflate the tube – and again, I was basically winging it. I really didn’t know what I was doing.

Roughly 30 minutes after I initially stopped, a race volunteer in his personal car and an ambulance drove up from opposite directions. I told them I was fine; nothing had happened to me, but I had a flat tire. I told the volunteer my race was over and that I needed a ride back to the staging area.

I was done.

I was fuming when I returned to the park, and stormed past my poor parents and my friend, who were worried sick about me. I was an hour late and they assumed a mechanical issue was the cause, but they couldn’t be certain.

I was in a foul mood and didn’t want to deal with anyone.

Later that afternoon as we drove back to the bustling metropolis of Northern Virginia, I calmed down. Flat tires happen and there’s no controlling that. By Monday morning I was pretty much over it.

On Tuesday, I signed up for a new race – the Journey for Sight Triathlon in Chicopee, Mass. I’ll be in New England for a vacation starting tomorrow, and the race falls on my last day there (Aug 30). Perfect.

Today is Wednesday; I’ve completely moved on from what happened in Luray. It’s time to focus on my next race only 10 days out.

Bike tonight, bike and run on Friday. I’ll find a pool in Massachusetts next week to get a few training swims in.

I’ll start my race-weekend preparation next Friday and give it another go.

That’s all I can do.

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