2005 Great Floridian Triathlon Race Report

Okay, so this is a bit late. Sorry. But here's the full story. It is long, but I hope it is a good one...

First, the thank you's. No one usually makes it to the end of these things because they are so long. First thank you goes to my coach, Mike Ricci. Lots of patience and guidance on his end and it was all greatly appreciated. Second, my co-workers at both FSU and MRI-Tampa North. Third, my students at FSU for their support of our efforts. Last but definitely NOT least...to my family, especially Bessie. S he had to endure a lot of lonely Saturday mornings while I was out on long bike rides. That’s over now.

THANK YOU!!!

Many of you know, I set out to do this as a tribute to my father, John. The original plan was for him to be there, and to cross the line with me, Dad on one side and my son John on the other. Dad passed away before the race (in February) so finishing this race was a MAJOR priority. We also raised over $12,000 for pancreatic cancer research. You can still give if you wish by going to: www.justgiving.com/pfp/johnpalios.

Here goes the long report...

FRIDAY (day before):
Mike X. (brother-in-law who was doing the ½ iron-distance race) and I got to check in, checked our bikes in and got all situated. Prepping for an iron-distance race is a bit technical, as you must have your gear all situated and in plastic bags the day before the race. So standard transitions don’t happen (when you set up the day of the race). So, after reviewing my check list three or four times, I knew I was set. Did what I needed to do, and got out of there. We ate dinner at an IHOP...not the best place to have a pre-race meal, but it was good enough.

Got back to the hotel room, prepared my nutrition bottles and got to bed about 10AM or so. A bit late, but better than nothing.

SATURDAY (race day):
Woke up at 4AM, had my two bottles of Boost and bagel, got dressed, but sunscreen on and Mike X and I headed out to the race site.

Got to check in and the line for body marking was...very long. Got that done, weighed in at 165 and got everything situated. I then realized that I had forgotten my bike computer in the car. Ouch. Thankfully, Mike was able to get it before the start of the race and get it on my bike. Found Mike Martinez and we chatted for a bit as the start of the race was delayed 30 minutes.

I knew the moments before the start, specifically the national anthem, would be a bit emotional for me for a variety of reasons. I wasn’t too nervous actually; I just wanted to get started.

Sang the National Anthem, and…START!

SWIM…2.4 mile lake swim
I hate lake swims. Lake water is disgusting. And with 300+ others starting at the same time, the chances of swallowing some of it are high. I got kicked in the stomach and face a couple of times, and I kicked a few others as well. I felt smooth and went easy. Only negative was the wetsuit I wore had some Velcro that was rubbing a gash on the back of my neck. Ouch. Goggles keep filling with water, and this Velcro is hurting. Suck it up... Outside of that, and a few sips of lake water, it was relatively uneventful, and I finished feeling pretty good about the day ahead. I got through the swim and that was a big deal for me. Time = 1h 13m 38s, 22 in AG, 110 in males.

TRANSITION 1:
Out of the water, saw the family, yelled “Hi Mom” into the cell phone Maria was holding, then got to the volunteers who helped get the wetsuits off. “Lay down” he yelled. This kid then proceeded to rip the wetsuit off of my legs. It was great and made life easy, since I didn’t have to worry about struggling to get the wetsuit off. Into the changing tent I went.

I was not prepared for this. It was kind of an outdoor locker room, but with no rooms; where men were running around with no clothes on changing into their bike clothes. I was all ready to go, as I wore my bike shorts underneath my wetsuit. Still, you’re never quite prepared to see men running around in all their glory. I made T1 as fast as I could. Time = 5m40s.

BIKE…112 hilly miles, 2 loop course
This bike course is tough. Relatively flat for the first half, the steep hills really kick in on the second half. They culminate with Sugarloaf Hill, one of the highest points in the state. People were TAILGATING on Sugarloaf while racers were struggling up. No lie. They had cold soft drinks.

First lap, I went out VERY conservatively, 3h 30m. This is slow. I kept saying to myself, “patience, humility, focus” every time someone would pass by me. This was tough because A LOT of people passed me. I knew this would happen, and I planned to catch them on the run. First loop was pretty uneventful, and I came through the special needs area for my second nutrition bottle feeling great in 3h 30m, slow but feeling good about the rest of the day. Screw you Sugarloaf, see you in 3 hours...

Loop 2…they ran out of water. This was not part of the plan. I had to drink Gatorade for about 40 of the 56 mile second loop. This messed with my head, and it also messed with my body, as I got dehydrated out there. It was hot and humid and the course was a repeat of the first loop…very hilly for the last half or so. I didn’t slow down too much, but I knew I might have some issues when the run came around. Heading up Sugarloaf the for the second time, when the temperature and humidity were both climbing, I thought about Dad. Can’t stop now. I even pulled out my list of people who had suffered from pancreatic cancer. There were 8 or 9 names on the list. “THIS is why I am doing this. It is supposed to be hard.”

Except for a bit of traffic, it was relatively uneventful, hilly, hot, and no water. But I made it through feeling okay, a bit dehydrated, but confident that I would have a strong run.

The last 12 miles really sucked. I was 12 miles from the finish, but still had 40 minutes to go. Will this bike ride ever end???

Thankfully, I didn’t think too much of the Sesame Street songs we play for John; if those had been running through my head for 7 hours, that would have been bad...

Time = 7h 24m 53s, 35 in AG, 224 overall. Very slow time, but I wasn’t too disappointed, since they RAN OUT OF WATER!!!!

TRANSITION 2
Again, like an outdoor locker room, where you see things you really would prefer to not see. I got out of there right after I had some nasty tasting Clermont water. Time = 5m 19s.

RUN, 26.2 miles, nearly all flat:
The run started out on a 2.5 mile path that was relatively flat, but with sneaky little inclines. I started out running between 9 and 10 minute miles. Came through first five miles in 45 minutes...a bit fast, but I felt comfortable. After that, I looked for any excuse to stop running...whether it was at an aid station for something to drink, or a portolet (I actually had to use those!!!).

After the first 5 miles (the out and back part), you run three loops around a lake. Each loop is about 7 miles or so. I knew at about the 8 mile mark of the run (halfway through the first lake loop) I was going to be in trouble. I started walking a bit. I was dehydrated. I knew that walking would be the only way to slow my heart rate down enough for my body to absorb the fluids I was taking in. Each aid station (there was one every mile), I’d drink water and Gatorade. At Mile 10 or so, I drank some chicken broth. One of the ladies said she thought I needed some. It tasted okay.

Some aid stations had themes. There was a Flinstones one (with a Wilma siting), a beach theme, and some others. One lady a bit later on asked me if I wanted her to flash me. I politely declined…No thanks…

At the 12 Mile mark, I was walking more than I was running. The next 45 minutes would be the worst 45 minutes that I can remember in my life, outside of the terrible events of my father’s diagnosis, illness and death. I thought that I would not finish. I thought I was going to let everyone down, most importantly my father. This was one of the lowest points in my entire life. What went through my head??

I’m doing this for him, I cannot stop.
Just keep walking slowly, you’ll feel better.
Don’t get too high, don’t get too low. It is a long race.
There is no way I can run two more loops of this course.
I’ll be a failure. I’ll disappoint so many people.
Bessie has to be worried about me.
If I finish, I hope my son is still awake.
What if I pass out on the middle of the road in the pitch black night?
I can’t finish. What am I going to do?
I am going to let Dad down.
This has to be a little bit like how Dad felt.
Dad’s feet had to hurt a little bit like this.

I then threw up. It was all fluids and water and it was a lot. After two minutes of that, I began to feel better. A local medic drove by, noticed that I was in pretty bad condition. “What should I do?" "God is giving you a sign to stop, or He’s going to stop you in a bit.” I said to myself, "God might be telling me a lot of things, but there’s no way He is telling me to stop…"

Dad threw up continuously for about 6 weeks just before he died. It was green bile, since his digestive track was so messed up. I could take throwing up for 30 minutes.

After walking about 2 miles or so, I began to feel a bit better and was able to run a bit. I was drinking two cups of water and one cup of Gatorade. I began to sweat a bit too, so that was good. I finished lap 2 thinking that I had a ways to go, but that I WAS going to finish. I am going to finish this damn race no matter what!

It was pitch black outside, except for the rare street light or oncoming car It was dark, lonely, and a bit unsafe. But everyone who raced had the same conditions to deal with.

The final loop was a lesson in patience and perseverance. I would run with some people for a bit then walk. It was the conversations with them that would help pass the time…”can you believe they ran out of water? is this your first IM? Where are you from? We don’t have much longer. Let’s run to the next street sign then walk for a bit."

All of a sudden, I hit the 23 mile marker. I have 3.2 miles left. I am going to finish the race. I AM GOING TO FINISH!!! Across the lake, you could see spotlights where the finish line was. What seemed so far away drew closer and closer.

I’m going to do it, Dad.

I ran through the final aid station proudly telling people…this is it. Thanks for helping me tonight. I did it. Their responses: "Finish strong." Congratulations." "Be proud." "It feels great, doesn't it?" In a way, it did.

I had thought about the finish to this race for about 10 months, and though about what it would be like; what it would feel like; what I would be thinking; what I would do. I did none of the things I intended to do. I was so damn relieved that I was finished, that I didn’t think of anything, not even Dad, which is surprising.

I turned the corner and saw the finish line. I heard and saw Bessie first then saw Ryan Cappy, my best friend, and his wife Katie. They drove over from Tampa just to see me finish. Mary Ann and Aunt Julie. I heard Maria yelling and talking on the phone. Mike had finished, there he was. Mr. and Mrs. Xenick (Mike’s parents) were there. And Bessie with John. He was crying.

I got John in my arms, Maria handed me her cell phone and Mom and Donna were on the phone. Mom was crying. Mom, I’m crossing the finish line with John Palios, I said. As I jogged across the line, John was laughing and smiling, and so was I. Run time = 5h 50m 53s, 25 in AG, 175 Overall

TOTAL TIME = 14h 42m 20s

Post race
There were some smiles from everyone, then I quit smiling. I didn’t feel so good. I think I’ll get a massage. Ryan left, Aunt Julie and Mary Ann left. The Xenicks left.

I cut the massage short and then threw up. Some medics just happened to be there and they wheelchaired me into the medical room. I threw up again. They did some blood work and my sodium counts were pretty low. “We recommend you go to the hospital. You don’t HAVE to, but it would be helpful. You’ll PROBABLY be okay, but to be safe, we think you should go.”

So, I took my first trip in an ambulance to the hospital. As I write this, I think of Dad's last trip before he died, from the hospital to our house, and how the medics stopped at the Church before we got home.

I was in the emergency room for about 5 hours or so. I received 4 bags of IV fluids. Again, kind of gave me a small experience of the hospital stays that Dad had to endure. Not much, but maybe .01% of what he went through. That was enough for me.

Bessie and I got back to the hotel that morning at about 5:30AM. We both showered and went to sleep. It took about three days for me to feel back to normal again.

Sunday, October 23 would have been Dad’s 67th birthday. We went to his gravesite. My gift to him was my finishers shirt...

Will I ever do an iron-distance triathlon again? I don’t know. I think I’d like to see if I can improve on my slow time. Will I ever do one again? Probably, but not for a LOOONG time! I’ll stick to the short ones for the time being. I enjoy spending too much time with Johnny.

About one week before Dad died, we were talking in the hospital. He pointed at the shirt I was wearing, the ½ Ironman race I had completed. He said I was his hero. All I did was participate in a race.

My father, John Palios is the real hero. How he handled his adversity and his illness was an example we all should follow. For that, he is and always be MY hero. Thank you Dad for everything. I hope this birthday gift made you proud.