Wake up, crazy ass fans! Time to emerge from you slumber. I hope the last couple of weeks gave you some time to relax, catch your breath, put away your streamers, mega phones, body paint, and Picky Bar face tattoos, and just enjoy a little break from Jesse’s World.
I’ve got a couple of “announcements” to make – so I thought I’d throw out a quick blog to satiate your appetite.
    1.    I’m racing on Sunday in Stroudsburg, PA at 70.3 Poconos.
    2.    I’m headed to Kona to cheer on my buddies, hang out at the Mauna Lani, do some Specialized rides, and just say hi to people.
    3.    I want to thank you again for the support on the World’s race report. Seriously, you guys are awesome.
70.3 Poconos on Sunday

After a bunch of heehawing, Matt and I decided that I should do another race. I’m training through the Rev3 Final in Florida on 10/28, so adding a race before then allows me to 1) get a few 70.3 Worlds points for next year (which I failed to do at Worlds, sad face), and 2) not train as much. Both good things.
So I looked at the 70.3 race schedule, busted out some airline miles, and decided to do 70.3 Poconos. Why did I decide to do this race? Because Poconos sounds like one of the Lands in Disneyland, like it would be right next to TomorrowLand. Unfortunately, it’s not. Here is the extent of what I know about this race:
    1.    It’s in Pennsylvania (a place called Stroudsburg, I suck at east coast)
    2.    They canceled the swim last year because it was too cold.

I think the course is kind of rolly/hilly, but I’m honestly not sure. The field is solid, with at least 5 or 6 guys who could win without it being an upset. I think it will be fairly cold again, maybe even raining. Sounds awesome, seriously.

Matt also thought Poconos was funny.
I think you can follow here, but you may have to do some digging. I’m going solo, so no twitter updates.

Sunday is also Lauren and I’s FIVE YEAR WEDDING ANNIVERSARY, booyah! So I’m headed back to meet Lauren in Santa Barbara almost immediately after the race is over. In fact, if I don’t finish close to 4 hours, I may miss my flight. The pressure is on.

SF Bay Area then Kona at the Mauna Lani
Lauren and I are going to road trip up to the SF Bay Area for a few days, visit some friends, and attend a wedding of one of my Ardica buddies. Yes, these are the same “buddies” that created a fake rice krispie cake (my dream cake) and then destroyed it before my very eyes at my wedding. Long story, but anyway, watch out Adam & Michelle. Haha.

On Monday 10/8, we’ll head to Kona for a week! And, we’ll be staying at the “Luxurious Mauna Lani Hotel!!!!!!” For some reason, I always imagine the Mauna Lani as a super prize on the Price is Right. It’s nice enough to be one.

Life is rough at the Mauna Lani (from Kona last year).
I met the Mauna Lani staff through (of course) Matt Lieto, and they have invited me to be a part of their triathlon team! I’m honestly totally honored as they are incredibly kind and generous people, and, of course, the Mauna Lani is about as good as it gets for a place to stay on the island. Rad open water swimming, biking, running, a 25m pool and gym, great rooms, and a RIDICULOUS breakfast (can you tell which characteristic I’m most excited about?). Anyway, I’ll be doing a whole bunch more reporting from the Mauna Lani while I’m there, and we’re trying to set up a group run and/or clinic of some kind at the hotel as well. I’ll provide details in a pre-Kona blog and/or twitter.

One thing I do know for certain is that I will be leading group bike rides at 7:30am and 9am Tuesday 10/9 through Friday (10/12) with Specialized. I’m not sure about the location yet, (maybe their booth at the expo?) I’ll let you know.

Anyway, if you’re in Kona, come find me and say hello! Stoked to be there.

Rebounding Post Worlds – Getting on the Horse
I’ll be honest, it’s been a bit of a drag coming off a subpar World’s performance. I’d be lying if I didn’t say that it still bums me out when I think about it, and that it’s shocked my confidence a little. I’m finding I need to constantly remind myself that I’m not only as good as my last race, that I don’t need to prove my fitness in workouts or train for confidence in general. You actually want to do the opposite after a subpar race. You should rest, because most likely that’s what your body needs. Under Matt’s guidance, I feel like I’ve done a decent job resting and not trying to prove fitness to myself in training, but it’s still a struggle. It’s probably a good blog or Triathlete Magazine article – How To Get Over A [Shorty] Race.

Anyway, I sincerely appreciate the incredible support, comments and sharing of my race report that you all provided. It made me feel substantially better about what happened. It seems that sometimes my biggest failures make the most popular blogs. It certainly isn’t something I want to get in the habit of, but it’s cool to know that the story and process is what matters, even to the crazy ass fans.

Matt has done a good job of letting me free-flow the last few weeks with very little structured training. I’ve trained hard when I felt like it, but also had the flexibility to do very little when the mood wasn’t right. It’s this time in the season where I have to do some new stuff to keep mentally motivated. As soon as I got home, I finally rode the Crux cyclocross bike I got from Specialized. That thing is freaking rad. I went on one of the coolest rides I’ve been on in a while out in the mountains southeast of Eugene. I also did a Cyclocross race, super fun stuff that absolutely crushed me. Anyway, the training has come and gone and I’m just doing my best to let my body do what it wants to do, and not ask any more of it than that.

Cyclocross is like the steeplechase on a bike, except muddier. (thanks Phil Johnson for the awesome pic).

Even though I might not be 100% mentally and physically prepared, I think it’s a good thing that I’m racing again. In the fall of 1999, I trained and raced my ass off in the hopes of becoming an NCAA XC All-American. Then, in a last minute change, I was made the alternate to Stanford’s NCAA XC team. This meant I would prepare for the race, travel there, warm up with the team, and then when the race started, step back and let the other guys run. Needless to say, I was devastated. My confidence was shattered. I was angry at the sport and my coaches. I didn’t want to race again until I felt supremely confident and fit that I could make up for the whole thing in one magical “prove-it” race back. I remember my coaches encouraging me to race indoors on my XC fitness, see what happened, let myself experience what I was capable of. But instead, I went month’s letting that bad result simmer inside me. I lost confidence, motivation, and fitness. By the time I raced again, I had become the athlete I wanted to prove I wasn’t.

So in a way, I’m using that experience to get myself back out there again, even if I don’t feel ready. I realize now that one result doesn’t define you, your season, or certainly you career. The only way it does is if you let it. It’s like they say, when you fall, you get back on the horse as quick as you can. It might be scary, and you might fall again, but the important part is to continue the process. Erase that memory and move onto the next step.

So that’s what I’ll do. I’m prepared to feel anything from great to terrible. And I honestly don’t really care. The point of this race is simply to race again, continue the process and create some new memories to finish the season. Onward!

The true value of sport is that it provides highly intense, miniature experiences that simulate life. You set goals, and work hard to achieve them. Sometimes, you succeed and celebrate. Other times, you fail and learn what you can from it so you can try again. Without those failures, you don’t improve, and you don’t fully appreciate the successes. In the moment, it sucks, a lot. But when you persevere, and eventually achieve your goal, it makes all the sucking and suffering worth it. That’s what I have to remember today.


The sun rises again. Thanks Rob at Roka for the awesome photo.

**Disclaimer – This was a fairly emotional day, which tends to give me potty mouth. In an effort to keep this blog relatively family friendly, but also be honest about what I was really feeling/saying/expressing to myself – I’ve made substitutions, “dubs” if you will, like when you watch Superbad on TNT or TBS. I think you get the point.

Oh yeah, quickly, here is the soundtrack to this report. One of my favorite songs off the new Metric Album, “Breathing Underwater”. For better and for worse, it works with this race – a good beat, a little epic, and a little sad. You can also hear a live, slower version here.

Game On!

Sunday started like most race days – some nervousness and anticipation, but a lot of excitement about the opportunities ahead. There were a few bumps, but nothing that took me physically or mentally out of the game. I was ready. I was excited to race.


Feeling happy and loose before the race with Mrs. T.

Swim: Until You Bleed!

Following my plan, I keyed off of Richie & Joe Gambles as we started the swim hard. Almost immediately, I felt off. Within the first minute I noticed lactic acid filling my legs. WTF?!? I’d felt this sensation before – at the end of long, high intensity swims – but never at the beginning of a race! I was worried, but I blocked it out. Yes, this is unsustainable, but that’s what it takes to stay with the pack. Stay on it!!

About 3-4 minutes in, the lactic began to take its toll. My breathing became panting, my stroke labored, and I worried less about staying with the pack, and more about finishing the swim, period. It didn’t seem that fast, just hard, the effort wasn’t proportional to the speed. As the lead group pulled away, and second packers passed me, images of getting passed, and dropped, by the women clouded my head. Just six minutes into the race, I was on my way to another disappointing performance.


Getting a nice big mouthful of poo water. Thanks Rob at Roka Sports for the photo.

I literally yelled at myself to refocus. You’ve worked your [tooshy] off for this swim! You are a different athlete! No comparisons! As Matt Lieto told me the day before, “Your [bung]hole better be bleeding when you exit that swim.” Thanks, Matt. I told myself, Just stay with them for 100 more strokes. When that passed, another 100 strokes, then another, and so on. My outlook turned to mildly positive as I realized I would make it out with this pack…and not get chicked. Even though it wasn’t what I’d hoped for, it was still a significant improvement over last year, and in a deeper/stronger field. As I exited the water, Matt told me I was about 75 seconds behind Richie & Joe, ~3 minutes from the leaders. Not awesome, but it’s a long race, and I’m just a good bike and run away from a solid result. Here we go, mother [bucker].


Where the [fiddle] am I and what the [fuddle] just happened?

Bike: Playing Catch Up

I struggled a bit in transition. I threw up a bit of poo-colored, desert man-made, lake water. I felt disoriented after the hard effort, and had trouble snapping my helmet strap. By the time I got on my bike, I was a solid 15-20 seconds behind the group. I knew I had no choice but to hammer until I caught them. I put in a big effort and reeled them in by the top of the first hill, at about 3 miles. I sat in the back on the long downhill to recover and get a sense of the pace. It was too easy. It was obvious we weren’t going fast enough to make up time on the leaders. I had to move and move hard if I was going to be a factor in the race. So I smashed up the next climb into the lead and rode strong without looking back for the next 8 miles or so. As we approached the first aid station around mile 12, I was surprised to see most of the group still with me. Maybe my legs aren’t as strong as I thought today.


Leading the chase pack. Thanks Paul Phillips/CompetitiveImage.us for the photo.


The Penalty

I slowed quite a bit through the aid station to grab plenty of water. As I did, a couple of guys went around me. I spent some time drinking, dumping the remainder into my Shiv Fuelselage, and resettling into the aero position. It was obvious the whole group was packed up from the aid station. I remember thinking, [Swashbuckle]! I’m close to Griffin, I should probably slow down. I looked to my left for the dashed road lines, which the officials said they would use to measure the distance between us. There were no lines, just tons of those bumpy white things with no distance between them. Am I too close?

Suddenly, I heard a very loud, “WARNING!” It startled me, like when [butt]holes honk from behind while you’re on a bike because they think it’s funny to scare you. I looked to my left to see an official yell, “You’re too close! It has to be 7 bike lengths!” My heart jumped, I nodded and slowed immediately, thinking I’d just gotten a warning to back off after the aid station. Then he pulled out a red card, extended it out in my direction, and wrote something down on his paper pad. WTF?!? Did I just get a drafting penalty? Before I could even say anything, he sped away.

What the hell just happened!?! I was in denial, I kept replaying the scene in my head. Did I get a penalty? I was close, but it was so short, and I lead the whole way out. It couldn’t have happened, right? As the minutes went by, it began to sink in. He wrote down my number. [Sugar!] I think I just got a drafting penalty! [Fudge] me! Are you [farting] serious!?!

Trying to Rebound

I was absolutely crushed, all the life and inspiration from my legs and mind sucked out in an instant. I oscillated between taking long angry pulls at the front and sitting up in the back, dejected, waiting for the penalty tent to come and trying to re-evaluate what the hell I was going to do.

When I got to the tent, I still had a shred of doubt (and hope). I expected to see the guy there who gave me the penalty, to ask him quickly. Maybe it was just a warning? He wasn’t there. What?!?. I frantically asked the person in the official in the tent, “Did I get a penalty?” They didn’t know. “You don’t know!?!” I started to jump back on my bike. Then they asked me if he showed me a red card. Yep, he did. [Gosh darn] it.

They started the watch, and I sat there for the longest four minutes of my life. I had no idea what to do. I was so angry, so sad, and honestly really embarrassed. I tried to take a deep breath and relax, but it was impossible. It took all my strength not to be that pro dude who cried in the penalty tent. I felt my race and goals and hard work slipping away as the seconds ticked by. Logic brain was still trying to be constructive, How do I approach the rest of the race? What can I get out of this? Emotional brain replied, Who gives a [split]? Your race is [fudged.]


The long ride home. Thanks Jay Prasuhn/Lava Magazine for the photo.

I schizo’ed between those two feelings as I rode the next 30 miles completely alone. I’d be angry and ride super hard, saying to myself that The penalty was bull[poop] and I was an idiot for letting it happen. I’m still going to get something out of this race! Then I’d get tired, my legs would feel heavy and I’d slide into depression, weeping, Why does it even matter? My race has gone to [shih tzu], I should just pull out. For better and for worse, the anger side of the brain was the dominant one. I had to finish. I had to ride strong. I could still have the day I wanted out of my body, regardless of what place I end up. In the last 20 miles, by myself, I made up almost 3 of the 4 minutes I lost on the pack I was with. I put A LOT into the bike. Deep down, I knew it was probably too much, but I was angry. And in some weird way, I felt I could take back the drafting penalty by proving I was a strong rider who didn’t need to draft.

Run: SufferCramping


Giving it a go.

I was 28th off the bike, and was surprised to hear I was only 75 seconds down from a big group. Between the hard solo ride, a super hot day, and feeling flat and tired all the way around, I knew immediately that this was going to be a rough run (Rundar reading: Survival Mode). Logic brain established a new goal – top 15. 15th place would earn me some points for next year, and provide a tangible benefit to an otherwise terrible day. I can still make this happen. Just do your thing.


My family and friends cheered, “You’re reeling them in!” But around mile two, on the steepest uphill pitch, my right Sartorius (yes, I looked it up afterwards) cramped. It was a full on seize that made me stop immediately. I quickly contorted into a stretch and held it for a minute or so. I took one step and it locked again. I yell/cried “Oh god, my Sartorious!” (just kidding, I did yell though), and tried to stretch again. I couldn’t move. A guy on a golf cart asked me if I needed to be taken to the medical tent. “No!” I screamed, a little too much like an angry child. He gave me some water. I guzzled it and just stretched there, awkwardly half bending over and sticking my ass out sharply to the left. Look at yourself. You’re [plucked]! Your race is over.


When Lauren proofread my draft, she didn’t understand the cramp stretch I

tried to describe in the blog, so I showed her in Starbucks…and yelled

“Oh God, my Sartorius!”

A few minutes later, I tried to walk – initially over to the medical tent. One step was OK. Two, three, four. I turned back on course. A couple more jogging steps, nothing yet. It was tight and sore, but not cramping. I started jogging. OK, if it seizes like that again and you risk injury, you’re done. You’re dropping out.

Why I Finished:

In all honesty, for the next 11 miles, I wanted my leg to cramp again. I REALLY wanted to drop out. I was cramping, my stomach hurt, my legs were dead, I was completely by myself, way behind my goal, and just a two minute jog from the Cheesecake Factory. There was NO tangible benefit to finishing! So why did I keep going? Long story short – because of this [ducking] blog.


Nothing like hearing “Zombie Bieber” out on the course. Thanks Jared!

Over the last two plus years, I’ve shared a story. Initially, the only people that followed were my family (mom) and friends (one of my mom’s friends), but it’s eventually progressed to include other supporters, sponsors, and of course, some crazy ass fans. I’ve met you at races, read your comments, tweets, emails, Facebook messages and owl-delivered letters. I feel like I owed it to YOU as much to myself to see it through, regardless of the outcome.



Aid station #2 literally gave me chills every time I ran by. I also

dumped ice on my balls every time I ran by. But I think the chills were

from the cheers.

When I was out there on Sunday, you guys weren’t only in my  head, you were out on the course. It was a constant reminder of this journey, how long I’ve come, and the value I’ve received from your support. It was another one of those miniature, highly intense experiences within an experience. I was SUFFERING out on that run, but I never went more than 2-3 minutes on that course without hearing everything from “Nice Aviators” to “Go Jesse” to “Survival Zombie Mode” to “Jesse Bieber Fever!” My family, friends, other spectators, aid station #2 (my favorite!) fellow racers, even industry people. It was IMPOSSIBLE to escape your presence. On the last lap as I headed into the last two-mile uphill stretch, seriously doubting I’d be able to keep jogging, you know what I saw? A [clucking] Picky Bar wrapper on the ground. Are you kidding me!?! THAT my friends, is awesome.


Not only did I see a wrapper on the ground, a guy asked me for some. Sorry dude! Maybe next time.

And it wasn’t just that you were cheering, or in my head, or that I felt like I owed it to you guys. It was also that, despite the fact that I was out the back, dying, miserable, all chance of “success” long gone, you guys didn’t give a [shot]. The people on that course cheered me on like I was a [fracking] rock star about to win American Idol. They cheered me on like I was Jesse Bieber. They were stoked when I grabbed water, poured some ice on my balls, muttered a “thanks,” or gave them an ugly, I’m-dying-smile after a cheer. The energy I felt lifted me through the last 10 miles. There is no way I would have finished without it.


A few last hi-5′s to the finish. Thanks Rob for the photo.

So anyway, that’s how I rolled it in, one painful step and uplifting cheer at a time. The unlikely combination of intense pain and sincere gratitude that I felt may or may not have pushed a few man-tears out of my eyes. You’ll never know. That’s what the Aviators are for.

Quick! Somebody! Beer me!

A Few Post-Race Thoughts (Extra Credit for the Crazy Asses):

Don’t blame the penalty: What I don’t want people to take away from this blog is that I got an “unfair” drafting penalty that bombed my race. That is not true. When I got the penalty, I was drafting. I was not seven bike lengths away. Was I in that position long? No. Was my intent to gain an unfair advantage? No. But the official probably didn’t know either of those things, and he was doing his best to keep the race fair. And “intent” isn’t the rule anyway, drafting is. Like I said, I was as embarrassed and sad as I was angry. And part of the anger was at myself for not paying attention and letting it happen. I don’t want drafting to ever be associated with my reputation, and I’ll do my absolute best to make sure that that never happens again. This was only the second time I’ve ever ridden with a big group, and I just wasn’t paying close enough attention in the moment. It was a rough time to learn that lesson, but hopefully I’ll only have to learn it once. While it derailed my race quite a bit, my average swim, hammering too hard on the bike, and feeling flat in general had just as much to do with my result as the penalty.

I May have left my Race in Maine: Matt and I talked at length afterwards obviously and there are a lot of questions and things to evaluate about what went down. It’s possible one factor was that I just wasn’t ready or recovered for this race. I think I underestimated the toll that Maine took on my body and mind, because it was an Olympic distance race, I didn’t have to finish the run all out, and my body and mind were buoyed by the endorphins of taking a solid win. When it came down to it, I swam and rode as hard/fast as I ever have in that race, and it might have been too much to recover from. Who knows.

Once Again, Transitions Matter: A frustrating thing about looking through the results today was that eventual winner (Keinle) and 6th place finisher (Aernouts) both came out of the water JUST behind me. But, they both beat me by 15-20 seconds out of transition, In the first 10 miles of the bike, I was actually keeping an eye out for Keinle, expecting him to come flying by me. But it turns out by the time I caught the second group, they’d both already rode off the front of it. That was my ticket (without having a stronger swim) to a better result. They both rode remarkably well (Keinle, on-another-planet-well), but maybe I could have stayed with them as they bridged up to other riders. Who knows, maybe on the day I couldn’t have, but something to take away for next year.

I’m still psyched about my season: As bummed as I am writing this recap, it isn’t too hard to turn my frown upside down. While my result here was below what I’d hoped for, my results throughout this season were better than expected almost across the board. I’m improving at a faster rate than both Matt and I anticipated. The fact that I even believed that I could podium in this race is a level I didn’t expect to achieve this year. Even though I had an off day, I still swam 2 minutes faster and biked 5 minutes faster (INCLUDING a 4 minute penalty, so, yes, that’s actually 9 minutes faster) than last year. That’s improvement. Especially on an off day. I’ll have another crack at this one, and it doesn’t take away from the progress I’ve made.


I started my recovery with an ice bath at the Every Man Jack house.

Next Step: TBD

Plans are still in the making. Since I didn’t get any substantial

points, I may throw in a late season 70.3. I’m also slated to race the Rev3 Final in Florida (where I just lost 2nd place in the series by 10 points

to Viktor Zymetsev!). No solid plans yet, just some R&R with the wif, a new season of all my favorite TV shows, and then a blow out tailgate weekend on 9/22 with the b-school buddies. We’ll see what happens!

Thanks:

I’ve said enough about it already, but the LEGIONS of crazy ass fans, my wife, my family (including my mom & Jeff, dad & Janna, Terri & Jim) twitter and facebook peeps, my support crew, my newsletter subscribers. You all kept me going out there, so TOP BILLING this week. You earned it . Thanks so much for cheering me on. BOOYAH!


Lauren, mom, Aunt Terri & Jim watching the swim start.

Coach Matt Dixon – Like I said at the end, the fact that I even believed I could compete in this race is somewhere I didn’t expect to be even a year ago. And the first person who ever believed I could compete at this level was Matt. I’m slowly catching up to him. I sincerely appreciate the guidance, mentorship, and friendship. Onward!


Mallory, Joe (Spider Monkey), and Paddy at Specialized – These guys were once again a HUGE help this weekend. In case you missed it, I got a brand new bike last week – TriRig Review w/tons of pics here, and these guys not only built it and got it all set (even after I blew a tubular the day I left for Vegas). They also took Lauren and I out to dinner and gave us a ride to the airport. You guys are da bomb!


The Official Spider Monkey Seal of Approval – Click the image to see tons more pics and a writeup of the bike at Tririg.com

Ritch, T-Bone, Dan, Tom, Niall, David & Pierre of the Every Man Jack Racing / General Badasses and Good Dudes Team (team facebook page here). Thanks a ton for letting me crash your party this weekend guys. The house was awesome and it was a huge help to be around some fun dudes who helped me keep it chill leading into a big race. Looking forward to doing it some more down the road.


Geoff, Kody & all the guys at Pearl Izumi. Not only a HUGE amount of support all year long, but expedited some new shoes and apparel out when I realized I definitely needed some stuff before this race. Those Streak II’s felt great, even though I was running slow, haha. Thanks a bunch guys!

Tom & Dan just dancing and playing some Uke at the EMJ house.

Gerry Rodrigues of Tower 26 – Even though it wasn’t my best day in the water out there, a 2 minute improvement over last year is HUGE. Looking forward to getting that last couple of minutes. Well, looking forward to actually being faster, not particularly looking forward to the work its going to take to get there!  Thanks Gerry!


Rob & Kurt at Roka Sports – Thanks again guys for the support this weekend, making a quick swap with the swimskin and especially being out there on the last long uphill section of the run. I looked forward to your group every lap around, like I said, cheering like I was in the lead. Thanks as well for all the awesome photos, Rob.

The guys at Rolf Prima. 9 min faster than last year, and I know a chunk of that comes from the wheels. Thanks so much as usual for all the support, excited to hop on a CX bike with you guys back in the EUG!


Robert at First Endurance – What was honestly amazing about this race was that my 70.3 Nutrition Plan actually kept me from completely imploding/dying. I honestly believe that First Endurance’s stuff is the best in the heat. Yeah, I cramped at the beginning of the run, but that was due to pushing the bike way too hard, and taking in Pre-Race on the run is I think what “turned back” my cramping, amazingly, and allowed me to finish. Anyway, as always, great stuff. Thanks Robert.


Steve at CycleOps – Even though I didn’t get to use the power meter, I did get to use the new GPS Joule, which worked fantastically. It gave me some pace goals for the way home by myself, and something to focus on while I was suffering out there. Thanks Steve for the late help going into the race!

What is up crazy like polarized-molecules-in-a-microwave-on-the-high-setting fans! Solid race this Sunday in a stacked field, and even more so just a fun weekend. Let’s get right to it.

Race

Swimming is…Annoying?: 10^th fastest

Armed by my Mackenzie Madison women’s hand me down swim skin, I took off like a person wearing an extremely tight and thin garment in front of a large crowd of people. Seriously, I did get out to a pretty good start, and it wasn’t due to my blazing turnover or ferocious kick, it was my WORLD CLASS dolphin diving ability. I’m good at dolphin diving. There, I said it. It’s like riding a roller coaster in the water. Booyah!

Anyway, for the first 300 to 400 meters I swam next to Joe Gambles, who I knew would be one of my top competitors. Then Joe made a strong move. I tried to go with him, but I just didn’t have that gear, and by that time it was too deep to dolphin dive. Honestly, I knew that it was super important for me to stay with him, so I pushed as hard as I could to stay in his draft, but he just kept pulling away. So I looked over and saw another group to my right, and quickly bridged the gap. I recognized Chris McDonald, who I’ve swam with before. I stuck on his feet and came to terms with a not-as-good-as-I-hoped-for kind of swim.

From there on out, the swim wasn’t too bad. I wouldn’t say it was particularly comfortable, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was between uncomfortable and comfortable. I guess a good adjective would be annoying. Yep, the swim was annoying.

Biking Alone: 4^th fastest (30 seconds off fastest bike) Garmin/Strava Report

After riding with guys my last two races, I was pretty eager to try and catch the groups in front of me, but I had no idea what the gap was. So I ran hard through transition, got my shoes on quickly and was the first guy up to speed. When I hit the first rolling uphill, I started hammering. I was excited and super motivated, but a few minutes in, my legs told me they felt a little flat. They always say that in the first 20 minutes, so I just told them to shut up little legs and that everything’s going to be ok.

I passed a few of the strong swimmers, but still had no idea where I was. I kept hearing updates from random spectators: “3 minutes down,” “1 minute down,” “About 4 minutes down,” “9th place,” “No. 7th place.” It was like riding a roller coaster of emotion. Roller coaster metaphor #2, double booyah!

This is seriously the song that came into my head about 20 miles in to the ride. Pretty brutal. Good news is I found a claymation video of it to share with you guys. 

I finally got a split about ¾ of the way in from Julie Dibens – last years women’s champ who was commentating. She said I was 2:40 back on the lead, 6th place. 2:40? That’s not terrible, depending on who’s in front of me. A few miles later, at the only turn around, I saw the lead. A four man group: Matthews, Gambles, Cunningham, and Cunamma. Damn. That sucks. Basically all of my primary competitors, had been riding together for God knows how long. Plus all of them, particularly Cunningham, Gambles & Cunamma usually run race best splits. If I wasn’t close to that group off the bike, it would be near impossible to catch them. So I pushed it in HARD, trying to limit the damage. I knew I was hurting my run, but felt that if I wanted a chance to win, or even podium, it was my only option.

Running Backwards?: 5^th fastest Garmin/Strava Report

Right as I started the run, I had a glimmer of hope, a guy told me I was 1:20 down. 1:20! Man, maybe I did finish that ride well! If I have a great run, I might be able to catch them! So I took off at a pretty hard pace. Unfortunately, my Rundar knew immediately that I wasn’t feeling a stellar one today, but I tried my best to ignore it. Take it a mile at a time. You’ve got a shot.

I kept the pace up, knowing it might be unsustainable given the way I felt. Then four miles in I passed Julie who said I was – pause for dramatic affect – 2:05 down. WTF?!? I’ve been running my ass off and those guys just put 45 seconds on me in the first 4 miles?!? It took me a few minutes to do some brain Excel and realize the first split I got was wrong, I was probably 2:20 down when I started the run. Which meant I was gaining, but not gaining fast enough.

I passed Paul Matthews to move into 4th before the first turnaround at about mile 6. I finally got my own split on the leaders, still running closely together – 2:00 ahead. Damn. 7 miles to go and a 2 minute deficit started to look like a long shot. Joe was off the back just a bit, maybe 1:45 up. So I told myself that, even though I feel like complete ass, I’d run hard until the next turn around at mile 10, and see if I had a chance to catch him.

By the time mile 9 came around, I knew it was game over. Lauren says sometimes I get stuck on a saying, a lyric, I sign I saw, whatever, and repeat it over and over again without realizing it. She calls it my “Way of the future.” Anyway, my brain kept saying, “Left the run on the bike, left the run on the bike, left the run on the bike.” I told my brain to stop saying that, but it wouldn’t listen. Finally, I got to the turnaround, saw Joe go by about 1:35 up. 1:35 to make up in 3 miles? No way. Then I saw Paul was still ~1:30 behind me. So I shut it down big time. Like 30-60 seconds a mile big time. I think I was secretly glad I wasn’t close. I mean, I was really, really tired, and I just wasn’t feeling it dude.

Ok, this isn’t that funny watching just the clip (Leo’s too good!) but just so you get the reference.

So the last mile is uphill in the middle of a forest, no crowd, no nothing, just me and the hill. As I was slogging it in, there was this one random dude on a bike, all by himself, who took a picture of me with his camera phone. Then when I jog/walked by he said to me, only three words….”Bieber Zombie Mode.” Seriously. It was awesome. I would have laughed out loud if I had the energy to do so. All I could say was, “I could use some Bieber right now.” At the time it was all Zombie and no Bieber. Anyway, it was enough to get me up and over the hill into the last flat quarter mile into the finish. Thanks dude!

Overall: Staying in it when it isn’t your day. 4th Place, Full Results

I’m content with this place. I’m not head over heals psyched, but I’m content. It’s a happy middle of the road feeling. I am absolutely satisfied with my effort on the day. I didn’t give into the many moments of doubt or self pity I had along the way. Even though I was tired, felt a bit flat, lonely, and working my ass off solo, I kept pushing to get as much out of myself as possible. I kept the opportunity open in my mind that I could still move up into the top three, at least until the last couple of miles.

For sure, I wish I had swam a little better, I still don’t feel like I’ve had a great non-wetsuit swim – I lost 1:20 to Cunamma, who I beat out of the water at Wildflower. It  feels like I lost the race in the swim, but a better swim wouldn’t have made the difference. I did everything I could to catch those guys on the bike and the first 9 miles of the run. They simply had a better day, and hat’s off to them. I know they were crushing themselves in that group. They are all solid pros with significant credentials/experience, so loosing to them on the day is not a huge disappointment.

Like I said in my preview, confidence & success brings with it the burden of expectation. It’s true that I hoped to win, or even place in the top 3, and I’m proud of myself for not caving in when I knew neither was in the cards. And for staying in it mentally, I was rewarded with a solid performance in a super strong field. I’ve made significant gains on all those guys when compared to last year. The bigger picture trend is heading in the right direction, and that’s something to feel good about.

The Event: Rad & Roller Coasters

Let me just tell you all how awesome this race is. I’m definitely coming back next year, and if you’re looking for a half-ironman distance race to do next year, you should seriously consider it. The course was absolutely spectacular, seriously. Amazing scenery, nice country roads, hilly, tough, LEGIT. The Rev3 staff had everything on point as usual. It was freaking awesome. As promised, the first thing I did after crossing the finish line – rode the roller coaster.

Thanks

• 

  Jake, one of the Rev3 volunteers, helped me get all my stuff ready race day morning.

  Charlie, Krista, Ashley, Eric, Sean, Jaime, Jessica, and the rest of the staff & team at Rev3. This was an incredible event, and you guys made all of us pros – and I’m assuming all the age groupers as well – feel welcome and cared for. What an AWESOME course. I’m definitely coming back. I want a round 2 with that guy. Thank you so much for the support, generosity, and what you bring to the sport. You guys are rad! See you in Portland in 5 weeks!

• Geoff, Kody & Kelly at Pearl Izumi. Super fun hanging with you guys this weekend. Thanks for all the help & support. Congrats to Geoff for braving some nasty conditions on the Olympic on Saturday, and Kelly for crushing the Half with sore shins. Hope you guys are recovering in your sales meeting, haha. See you on Thursday.
• As always, Mallory, Sean, & Joe at Specialized –Another SOLID bike split. It kept me in the race honestly. I’m riding minutes faster when compared to the same guys last year. Thanks so much for all the help guys, keeping me competitive out there.

• The guys at Rolf Prima. They cranked on getting a new TDF 60 SL front up and ready for me this weekend. Seriously appreciate the quick turnaround and support. You guys rock, and the wheels are fast dude!
• My coach Matt Dixon -As always, got me ready and kept me mentally prepped for whatever I would get out of the day. Another great step forward, let’s keep it rolling.
• Robert at First Endurance– I have had absolutely ZERO cramping and nutritional problems this year. I owe a HUGE chunk of that to First Endurance. Thanks for keeping me going guys. I again used the same race day nutrition plan here.
• Steve and the rest of the team at Cycleops -The PowerTap was all the kept me company out on that bike ride this weekend. Definitely helped keep me honest out by myself. Thanks for all the help.
• Gerry Rodrigues of Tower 26 – Thanks as usual for all the help Gerry. Still got a little ways to go in those non-wetsuit swims, but it’s coming around. Back to work this week!
• As always, my wife, my family, the rest of my support crew, my newsletter subscribers, twitter and facebook peeps. I have some seriously awesome crazy ass fans. I had a bunch of people come up to me before and after the race, talking about this blog, etc. To have someone say Bieber Zombie in the middle of the race was a trip. I appreciate all your guys support, and when I’m out there alone, I just start writing the race report in my head. Thanks for giving me something to do.

Well, my crazy-ass, doing-bongo-drum-dance-circles-in-the-middle-of-the-street fans, hope you’re ready. We had a BIG ONE this weekend. Grab a seat, get some water and a Picky Bar. This is a long one, but it has a happy ending.

It’s impossible to describe what I feel right now. It’s a combination of excitement, exhaustion, euphoria, nostalgia, and overwhelming relief. I want to throw up, scream, cry, poop, and laugh all at the same time. Actually, that describes it pretty well.

Just like last year, Wildflower proved to be one of the most memorable days in my athletic career. But the 2012 version wasn’t the shock and surprise of victory in unbridled naivety. It was victory over pressure, fear, and relentless self-doubt.

Pre Race Mental Games

Wednesday and Thursday were super fun. I did a webinar with Matt. I drove down with Linsey and Chris Corbin. We stayed with super buddy (yep, I just said it) Matt Lieto, Jen Luebke, and legend Chris Legh back in Cabin 10, who told us all ridiculous and entertaining stories from his years of racing. I was in a good spot, excited, happy, enjoying it.

Thursday night things started to derail. I didn’t sleep more than a couple hours, and it had nothing to do with sleeping in the closet. I got nervous and worried. On Friday I had interviews, photo shoots, a magazine signing, Q&A panel, a stairway dedication, and I had to prep for the race. I tried to nap, but couldn’t. It was a non-stop day, mostly fun, but a lot of answering questions about the pressure to repeat, targets on my back, etc. I told everyone, and myself, that I really didn’t feel added pressure, I just wanted to enjoy it. No big deal. I was lying.

The morning of the race I saw Matt as I put on my wetsuit. “Hey,” I said with a solemn look on my face. “There’s a decent chance I’m sick. Felt like crap yesterday, my throat and nose is stuffed up. Not sure how this is going to go.” “Well,” he paused, “you’ll know when you get out there.”

The whole time I warmed up, I heard the announcers talking about Jesse Thomas this and Jesse Thomas that, what’s he going to do, the target is on his back, how’d his race strategy change, yada yada yada. I couldn’t escape it, this could be an ugly day. Honestly, the last thought I had just before the gun, “I can’t wait until this is all over.”

Swimming in a Mental Funk

To quote Gerry, I went out “quick, but not hasty,” – strong, but comfortable. A few hundred meters in, the pace slowed. I relaxed, but negative thoughts immediately clawed into my brain. How do I feel? Am I going slow? It feels hard. Am I sick? Oh man, maybe I’m out of it. Am I way behind? Who’s in front of/around/behind me? Eventually I decided that this is what I’ve got, so just stick with this group, even if you are way back. I came out of the water, didn’t see the clock, and ran toward the bike. Here goes.

Bike Ups & Downs

I got my first good sign when the announcer said, “And here he is, our defending champion, starting the bike in 7th place!” WTF? Did he say 7th place? No, 17th place? Then I rode by Matt, “7th Place. 2:30 down on lead. Group of 3 in front. Good spot.” Normally I’d be stoked with such an amazing swim. But honestly, the first thing I thought was, oh man, all the good guys are probably in a group in front of me. I’m screwed.

On the first uphill Jordan Rapp whipped by me. Oh crap. I tried to go with him, but he was climbing VERY HARD. Am I going to hard? Jordan’s one of the most intelligent racers out there, and I knew he wouldn’t make a pacing mistake. Nonetheless, I can’t keep this up. There he goes. I don’t have it today.

I got out to the main road, finally away from the crowd, the event, the announcers, the magazine cover. The solitude gave me a brief moment of clarity – I’m negative all over the place. Debbie Downer. Every thought was negative – I’m sick, my legs are tired, I’ve got a new pimple on my forehead. This is not me (except the pimple part)! Enjoy this dude! Find yourself.

Debbie Downer isn’t fun to be around.

Then I realized I don’t even have a damn song in my head! Sacrilege! So I tried out some stuff – the new Coldplay, Kishi Bashi, Now Now. Nothing stuck. So I thought…it worked last year, should I try it? Let’s do it. Invisible Touch it is. No joke, as soon as I started singing it (literally, singing it out-loud), I started feeling a better. There’s something about the beat…when it hits your ears! It matches my cadence, or heart rate, or breathing or something. It’s a resonant frequency dude (Nerd Alert!). Anyway, I’d kept Jordan in my sight and no joke, with Invisible Touch powering me through, the gap narrowed. 50 seconds, 40 seconds, 30 seconds. Phil Collins, you’re the man!

Brought me back into it, thanks Phil.

When I reached Jordan, I pulled back and relaxed, we were passing people and I was burnt. When we hit the infamous Nasty Grade, I saw Macca on his bike and asked him, “How far up are they?” “Maybe two minutes, but they’re putting some power down.” I thought it was Matthews and Cunnama, and wasn’t sure I could give up two minutes (or more) to either of them on the run. So even though my legs felt like doo doo, I made a move. I heard Macca yell, “Now’s when the race starts!”

I rode hard the rest of the way. Jordan must have reeled back in whatever gap I opened up, because I left transition behind him. I saw my buddy T-Bone, he said 4th place, 1:45 to the leaders. Here we go.

Running Scared

I started at an aggressive, but sustainable pace. With no out and backs in the first 10 miles, you’re blind on this course, and I wanted to see the leaders as soon as possible. I passed Jordan around 1.5 miles. I got splits from random people out on the course. 1:30, 1:10, 50 seconds. Finally, I passed 2nd place, and saw Matthews in first. At that point, I knew I would catch him and the hills were killing me, so I relaxed. As I did last year, I walked twice on the steepest parts of the hill before mile 6. I caught Matthews right at the top around 10k (the EXACT same place Matt gave me the clause “C” last year). I made a big move on the following steep decline and created a gap. Oh my god. I’m in the lead. 7 miles to go.

At this point, you might think I was celebrating, stoked, excited practicing my Letterman interview. Nope. I was scared. What if I cramp? What if I bonk? I want this so bad. What if my foot hurts and I have to stop? What if Rapp catches me, or Cunnama? Honestly, my mind would not let me think positively.

I passed Matt about 2 minutes later. He said I had a huge gap, and was pulling away, relax, relax, relax. So I settled into what felt like a very comfortable pace. 6 miles to go. Still in fear. I ran through the campgrounds, heard people yell you got this, smoking it, can’t even see them. Even Macca yelled, “it’s time to go for records!” But I couldn’t enjoy it. I gave people hi-fives, I smiled and said thank you, but I couldn’t shake the fear.

When I hit the turnaround at mile 10 I got my own split, 1:40 up on 2nd place, Jordan. To confident Jesse, that would have been more than enough to relax and enjoy it. But I was hurting. The climb to mile 12 were the longest two miles of my life. What if I die. One step at a time. Is that a cramp? One step at a time. Is he gaining on me? One step at a time. Finally, I crest the hill. One downhill mile to go. I asked the lead biker, “Is he catching me?” “No man, you got it. Enjoy it.”

Into the long blue finish chute, I FINALLY knew I had it. The pressure lifted. It was honestly physical, palpable. I literally felt it release. I was flying, light as a feather. Time for celebration. With my Aviator glasses on tight, I “flew” arms spread wide through the chute giving everyone high 5s along the way. Grabbed the tape and yelled. Euphoria and relief.

Proving It To Myself

It wasn’t until the interviews afterward that I let my guard down, not only to everyone else, but to myself. If you were there, you may have noticed that the excitement was littered with small emotional moments.

I’ve honestly never felt so much pressure in my life. I don’t think I even realized it all until after the race was over. And honestly, the pressure wasn’t completely external. It wasn’t the magazine cover, the announcers, the signings, panels, interviews, etc. It was me. I WANTED this one. I wanted it so bad. I needed it for myself. I needed to prove to myself that I wasn’t a one hit wonder who’s career was solely defined by a win at Wildflower in a slow year. I wanted to prove that the media attention, hype, sponsor support, even the damn cover was deserved.

I don’t think I’ll ever feel that much pressure again. Next year won’t be the same. I’ve already defended. Other races won’t be the same, I’ve established myself. I wrote months ago about finally, for the first time in my life, feeling like a true pro athlete. Now I feel like a true champion. The third fastest time ever on a back to back win in one of the most historic races in the world. I’ll freaking take it. This win certainly won’t, in my mind, define my career, it’s another step in the journey I started 18 months ago. But I feel like I can now rest knowing I wasn’t just a flash in the pan.

Thanks Verdict Photography for another Amazing Video.

Thanks

I have to say that, generally, it’s impossible to improve by almost 6 minutes without some significant support. Emotionally, physically, equipment and financially, the guys below are just as responsible as I am for this awesome break through. Thank you all so much!

• My coach Matt Dixon - I owe a very big piece of this to him. He not only had me physically prepared in the best shape of my life. He mentally kept me in check the entire week. As nervous, doubtful, worried as I was, it would have been substantially worse, and I honestly don’t know if I could have pushed through it without him. Huge thanks for the emotional/mental support man, great stuff.
• Mallory, Joe, Sandy and the rest of the team at Specialized - The Specialized team actually created and gave away a few hundred pairs of free aviators to people in the crowd! UNREAL! Seriously, you guys are awesome. Can’t say enough about it. They also had a full support truck there for Jordan, Dan Hugo and I and did a ton of work getting my Shiv dialed in before the race. Oh yeah, my bike split was 5 MINUTES faster than last year!

• My cousin/Picky Bars Marketing Director Loren, Jessica, James, Tbone, Neil, Kristen, and of course my mom, for driving down from all over the place just to come and watch me race. It was awesome having you guys there for emotional support. Thank you so much.
• My “wif” Lauren Fleshman – Lauren also played a huge role in keeping me mentally and psychologically prepared for this race, and for every race. She’s my true inspiration. Read her eloquently written account of my prep and race here.
• Terri, Dixie, and the rest of the crew at Tri-Cal. 30 Years of Greatness. You guys deserve every bit of success you receive. The way you support the pros in this industry is unparalleled. I’m truly grateful for the enormous impact you’ve had on my career. Thank you so much.
• Robert at First Endurance – Special shout out to FE. I did not cramp once this year, (check out my full race day nutrition plan here) and I struggled with cramps the entire race last year. Thanks a ton Robert for the amazing product, and the nutritional advice. On our way man!
• Goeff, & Kody at Pearl Izumi. 2nd fastest run on a day like that, I’ll take it! Thanks a ton for the support guys. Awesome to hear from you both before and after the race, see you in Quassy.
• The guys at Rolf Prima. Thanks for the gear and support guys. Like I said, 5 MINUTES faster on those TDF 60’s!
• Cycleops – Couldn’t have prepped in the rain without that PowerBeam pro. Thanks a ton for all the help and support.
• Gerry Rodrigues of Tower 26

  – Gerry, again, thanks for the swimming instruction, both physical and mental. Almost a minute faster than last year, and more comfortable. Amazing man, owe a lot of it to you.

• All my competitors, but particularly Jordan, who really battled hard

  with me out there the whole way. I know he wanted this one just as bad, and we’ll have more duels down the road. Check out his recap here.

• My wife, my family, the rest of my support crew, my newsletter subscribers, twitter and facebook peeps. I have the best crazy ass fans in the sport. Seriously. I love your aviators, your comments, pictures, everything. It literally keeps me going through all the BS. Thanks you guys!

One word for this race, boomshakalaka! A solid swim and my fastest bike ever to set up a chance for the win at one of the biggest races of the year. It’s all in there, so I’ll just leave you to it!

It’s San Diego, on a military base, Aviators. A PERFECT soundtrack to this race report.

Swim: Chillin to a Decent One

The gun went off and I went out super…easy. WTF?!? It was so crowded that I lined up behind the first row and just chilled out. After my Costa Rica freak out, Gerry told me to take 5% off my speed in the first 200 meters so I could stay relaxed and react when the pace dropped. He was right. About 500 meters in the pack accelerated and I stayed with it without a problem. I honestly never felt crazy uncomfortable during the swim, mostly relaxed, working hard, but smooth. The water got a little gnarly outside of the harbor, feeding me a few salt-water smoothies, but

no biggie. I knew I was with Matt Lieto, Jeff Symmonds, and Leon Griffin, and any time I come out of the water with names I recognize, that’s a good swim. I still have a minute to go to front pack, but considering the sucktasticness of my other swims this year, I was stoked with 2nd pack.

Bike: 3^rd fastest – Holy SHIV! My best bike ever!

I had a fast transition (long run to the bikes) and was first on the bike of my group. I didn’t want anyone to ride my wheel so I gunned it pretty hard for the first 15 minutes until Griffin pulled up in front of me. We rode together for a while, then Matt joined us and the 3 of us hammered for the next 20 minutes to catch the front group of 8 other guys – including all the favorites outside of Andy Potts, who was riding alone in front after his typically dominant swim.

When we caught the group, I’m fairly sure I let out a small fist pump and low-volume, but audible “Booyah.” It was a lot like Tom Cruise on his motorcycle next to the fighter jets about 20 seconds into that Danger Zone video. This was the first time I’ve ever ridden with the main group – which has been a huge goal of mine. Plus, I felt fairly decent. I was pumped.

Mental Games Subsection:After I took a minute to catch my breath, I started evaluating where I was, how I felt, and who was in front of me. Front group, check. Feeling decent, check. Solid runners but guys I can run with, check. It all added up to one thought in my head, “Dude, if you hold it together, you could win Oceanside!” I know it sounds exciting, but honestly, it scared me. A lot. I got incredibly nervous and doubtful. I was so excited at the possibility of a great finish that I began to fear losing it. What if my legs feel flat? What if I get a flat? What if I have to take a dump on the run? Seriously, it was crazy. It’s a weird feeling to describe, but it happened. These races are sooo long, you have to accept and weather a number of emotions that come and go throughout the race.

Anyway, about 65 minutes into the ride, we hit the big hills and I didn’t have time or energy to continue thinking. I was towards the back of the group, and saw a few strong runners break off the front – Ambrose, Cunningham, and Griffin. Then Kemp (another great runner) took off to catch them, and I decided if I didn’t go, my chances of a podium were lost. So I made a big move on the last couple of hills and hammered. Kemp and I worked together and put a bit of time into the guys up front. Then Matt came up to us and the three of us charged forward. I gave basically everything I had to stay with Matt, and eventually, we reeled them in just before T2. I was super beat and worried I’d burned my legs, but excited to start the run in the thick of the race.

Run: To Go or Not to Go? That is the Question.

Just like Costa Rica, a had a terrible T2. My hands were cold and my mind-jacked fears escalated when my right quad cramped badly while putting on my shoe. I lost 15-20 seconds to the guys I rode in with, and worried that the group in front of me (Kemp, Cunningham, Griffin, and Ambrose), all solid runners, would run away from me. So I HAMMERED until I caught them. My Garmin showed a 5:10 first mile, not a smart way to start a half marathon after the fastest/hardest ride of my career and a quad cramp. Worried about my energy reserves with a long way to go, I relaxed and tried to catch my breath. I ran hard, but within myself with the group. We whittled away Pott’s 2 minute lead for about 6 miles on the long out and back of the first lap and dropped a couple guys off the group.

As we came back in to the crowd to start lap two, it was obvious we were stuck about 90 seconds behind Andy, and not making up time. But I was hurting, knew we had a long way to go, and honestly was VERY HAPPY finishing in the top 3 (where I also get most of my bonus $). I worried that if I went for it, I might cramp/tire/die before the finish line and lose the podium. But as we passed through the crowd I heard a bunch of “Go Aviator!” and “Catch him Jesse!” cheers. And unless my mom had learned how to teleport, they were coming from other fans, urging me to go. So in a flash of adrenaline/bravado/oh-what-the-hell-ness, I went for it with 6 miles to go. I dug deep and put in a huge move, gapping Richie and Leon, and putting Andy in my sites.

After 3 TOUGH miles, I actually saw him at the tail end of the last long out and back. Depending on which split I listened to, I was between 45 and 60 seconds of Andy at about 10 miles. But then, my fears started to sink into reality, and the wheels started coming off. Each step felt harder and harder and was slower and slower. By 11.5 miles, I had given back everything I gained. Richie passed me at mile 12, and I stuck to his shoulder, repeating to myself over and over, that NO ONE can beat you in the last 600 meters! I was wrong. Richie is a tough dude, and pulled away from me in the last half mile or so. It was full burnout/bonk/lactic/Bieber-Zombie mode. As bummed as I was to lose 2nd place by so little, I was still pretty freaking stoked that I was in 3rd place at Oceanside 70.3! So embarrassingly, I finished with about as much excitement as if I’d won, including some high-fives and Arsenio style whoop whoops! It was rad.

I don’t know if it’s whoop or woof. Either way, the crowd does it for 2 minutes straight.

Overall – The Risk of Going For It – FULL RESULTS

For those of you who aren’t as familiar with triathlon, this is a big result for me. It feels almost equivalent of winning Wildflower last year. Not in the excitement and exuberance I felt, but just in terms of putting me in the mix with the “big dogs.” It’s a great step in my career, it gives me confidence, and I think will make me part of the conversation in races down the road.

Yep, I’m also bummed I gave up 2nd place (between prize money & bonuses from sponsors, it was a COSTLY 11 seconds). BUT, I had a shot to run down Andy Potts for the win, and I went for it. I talked to coach Matt afterwards and he said, “If you’re ever in that situation again, you do the exact same thing.” And he’s right. If I hadn’t have taken the shot, I’d regret it, and Richie very well could have beaten me anyway. You don’t race for 2nd place, you race to win. Most of the time you don’t, but every once in a while, hopefully you do.

Random Post Race Story

I have to specially thank my Mom, Aunt Terri, Jakob (my mom’s exchange student) and Zach (his buddy) for supporting me before and during the race. I stayed at my Aunt’s place in Laguna Beach before the race and had dinner with them. I gave Jakob and Zach specific instructions to give me the split between me and 6th place when I was out on the run – my goal was top 6. When I came by in 2nd/3rd after the first lap Jakob started frantically asking my mom “What should I do? What should I tell him? Ahh!” Randomly, my cousins Aly and Lindsey were down in the area, saw there was a race, decided to watch for a few minutes, and saw that I was in 3rd place! They started texting my Dad asking if I had a race today, and basically everyone started freaking out for the next 70 minutes. Regardless of the splits, I heard all of them every single time I went by, and it was awesome. Thanks guys!

Thanks

• Huge shout out to Aaron, Willow, and Keith for letting me crash with them at the Carlsbad Resort. I didn’t have a place to stay, and they graciously invited me to stay with them. When we discovered there were two double beds , Willow and Keith shared a bed, and Aaron insisted on the blow up mattress, giving me the only solo bed. I felt like a complete A-hole, wanted to fight Aaron for it, but decided he’s likely much stronger than I am so it was a bad idea. Ultimately, Aaron had a stellar race, a 20 something minute PR of 4:31 and 5th in his age group. Willow and Keith weren’t as stoked with their races, but they both had solid first outings for the season. They’re all gearing up for Ironman St. George in a few weeks. Good luck guys, and thanks again!

• 

  Joe hard at work on the Shiv. He wasn't even phased by my picture. The dude is a Machine!

  Mallory and Joe at Specialized – Mallory gives me crap because after every race I say, “that was my fastest bike ever!” Well, it has been my fastest bike ever, every single time! The Shiv is fast and there’s no secret to why I’m cruising this year. Joe (Spider Monkey), assembled, disassembled, cleaned, lubed, tuned, and set up my bike entirely before and after the race. Again, I felt like an A-hole watching him do it all, but it was a HUGE help and decreased the stress around the event. Both of you guys were awesome this weekend, and Mallory, I’m sorry I made you drive back with my shoes!

• Goeff, & Kody at Pearl Izumi. Another fastest run split in Transitions! Thanks a ton for the support guys. Kody expedited some shoes to me for the race to make sure I was set to go. As always, awesome stuff, really appreciate it.

• The guys at Rolf Prima. Thanks for the gear and support guys. Great stuff cruising along on those TDF 60’s!

• Robert at First Endurance – Nailed another race day nutrition plan – EFS on the bike, and Liquid Shot + Pre-Race on the run. Awesome stuff, thanks a ton for the support.

• 

  Yep, that's a gigantic bear on a Shiv. What Matt always tells me to visualize when I'm scared of the competition. Thanks to Phil Maskiewicz for the awesome photo.

  Coach Matt Dixon – As always, I keep your guidance in my head during the crazy times in the race. Thanks for keeping me in the game mentally and physically. Really excited about the next few races down the road.

• Gerry Rodrigues of Tower 26 – Gerry, thanks for the swimming tips. I think the work is starting to show. Definitely a step in the right direction, appreciate it!

• My wife, my family, the rest of my support crew, my newsletter subscribers, twitter and facebook peeps. It was so much fun to read through all the activity on Twitter post race. So many people rooting for me to go, so awesome and motivating, thanks a ton guys.

So I’m in the middle of an enormo Kona training camp, and to be honest, would rather take a nap or catch up on Glee than write a blog, but I know my stark raving mad fans would be up in arms if I didn’t address the title, nay, the namesake, of their most beloved blog. So here I am, free flowing to see what happens.

This blog is called Leap Day Sports because I was born on Leap Day. Today is Leap Day, so today is my birthday. I’m 8. Ok, you get it.

To be honest, I don’t know much about Leap Day except that it only comes every four years and it’s my birthday. Growing up, I didn’t need to know more than that. I think the calendar guys put the extra day in every four years to account for the discrepancy between lunar tides, anti-matter, and Jennifer Aniston’s latest hairdo.

People always ask me stuff about Leap Day, and I obviously never have any idea what I’m talking about. So I decided to do some research and answer some of the questions I typically get, some of the questions I ask myself, and some of the questions that should and probably would never be asked. Below in no particular order are some Leap Day Q&A:

Oh my god oh my god oh my god!

Q: Are there any fun Leap Day traditions?

A: Apparently, Leap Day is the day when women propose to men. I am not joking, came up on the first page of “what is leap day” google search. Include-worthy for the photo alone.

Q: Is there a theme song for Leap Day?

A: I couldn’t find one, but I did find a band called Leap Day. Here’s their most listened to song on myspace. Props if you can make it through the whole thing without turning down the volume.

Q. Do you know anyone else with a Leap Day birthday?

A. Yes, actually my Aunt Rhonda turns 15 today! She’s a great supporter, reader of this blog, and Picky Bar customer. Happy Birthday Rhonda!

Q: Are there any celebrities born on Leap Day?

A: Turns out February 29^th is a weak ass celebrity birthday. Only ones I could find were Tony Robbins and Ja Rule. However, it did remind me of a hilarious Ja Rule part of a Dave Chappelle skit, so we’re all good.

What does Ja Rule think of all this? (warning: some funny but foul language)

Q. Do you celebrate your birthday on Feb 28^th or March 1^st?

A. No. I don’t celebrate it on either day. I save it ALL for the real thing. Ok, that’s not entirely true, but I have had some fairly huge parties on the actual day.

The only non-incriminating photo of the 7th birthday.

• When I was 12, my mom took me and a bunch of friends ice skating and mini golfing in Bend. Does it get any better than that? Then, when the parents weren’t looking, we made out with each other. That’s how we made it even better.
• When I was 24, I had a 6 year old theme birthday. So we did all the normal stuff you do as a six year old – played with toys, pin the tale on the donkey, wore transformers T shirts. Oh yeah, except we did it drunk. The highlight was definitely the Spongebob Squarepants bouncy castle with 40 of my closest friends.
• #7 (2008) was the most epic – Ocean’s Seven. I rented a place, rented a casino company, and ~120 of my family and friends from all walks of life came to Eugene to gamble with money that had MY FACE ON IT. Soooooo booyah. The Lane Transit District even sent a bus to give us a free ride to the Rock n’ Rodeo afterwards – a place about as awesome and terrible as it sounds.

The

yard glass was a "gift" from my Ardica buddies on #7. They definitely didn't try to get me to drink 7 of them. They would never do that to me. Ever.

Q: What are you going to do to celebrate this year?

A: Admittedly, this year will not be the party of EPIC PROPORTIONS from 2008. World’s collided this year with my new “job,” being in Kona to train, and the pretty crappy timing of Leap Day falling on a Wednesday. I’m bummed not to be celebrating with some of my good buddies back home, but I am planning on celebrating as much as possible here. After a rather large day of training (5500 swim, 4hr ride, 70 min run – training camp is hard, seriously), I’ll head out for sushi and sake with the rest of the purplepatch crew training here in Kona. When I get back to Eugene next week, I’ll do a double celebration with my little bro Joel, who turns 30 on March 6th!

Q: What does Leap Day mean to you?

A: Honestly, I’ve always thought that being born on Leap Day was the coolest thing about me. I’d bet the people who know everything else about me would agree.

My mom says that I knew, from the womb, that the 29th was coming, and I held out for 30+ hours until it did. I’ve been told that Leap Day is the day of eternal youth, which might help explain 1) How I’ve escaped four semi legitimate brushes with death (much longer blog, but it’s coming sometime), and 2) why I still look 14 years old with a clean shave.

Seriously, it’s been awesome to celebrate Leap Day as the year’s progress. If anything, it gives me a reason to try and make a big deal out of myself. Hopefully I’ll have many more to celebrate down the road. In fact – here is a public invite to anyone that reads this blog to my 10th (40th) B-Day in 2020. I’ve looked ahead, and yes, it lies on a Saturday, boomshakalaka! I’ll say right now it’s most likely going to be in Bend, but seriously look me up and you’re invited.

That’s it from Kona! I’ll leave you with a link to the most recent 30 Rock Episode, which was all about Leap Day and all it’s awesomeness. Enjoy!

Hello raving starving crazy mad lunatic fans, the first race of 2012 is in the books – Panama 70.3! Check out below for the full recap, and of course, let me know what you think via my newsletter, comments, twitter, or facebook!

Press play for the soundtrack to this race report. Yes, I had this song in my head the whole weekend. And yes, it’s because it was on Glee last week.

The Executive Summary

For all you busy types:

Good Jesse:

• For the first time in hot and humid conditions, I avoided Crampy McCramperstein and didn’t completely die. Booyah!
• I had an improved bike despite riding solo for the majority of the race.
• I had a decent swim – on par with most of last year.

Bad Jesse:

• I still got dropped from the front swim group, which probably cost me a couple minutes on the bike by isolating me out there.
• I faded quite a bit in the last few miles of the run.

Overall Jesse:

• I finished 6^th in a solid field. 2^nd American behind this guy named Lance who used to race bikes . I’m really happy with this result, it’s a great kick-off to the season!

Pre Race Buzz

So maybe a week before the race, Lance Armstrong, – yes, him, really – announced he would make his half ironman debut in Panama. Holy crap. My first race of the year had just gone from intentionally under the radar to the most anticipated event since season two of Desperate Housewives.

In all honesty, I did my best to avoid the buzz before the race. It was super cool/exciting that he was racing, but it was really important that I not get too distracted. I had to make sure that I did what I spent a lot of money to come here to do – get as many 70.3 Worlds qualifying points as possible.

So I spent most of my time in my hotel room, getting ready, eating the same dinner from room-service 3 nights in a row (if you know it doesn’t make you sick, don’t change it, slick!), and, of course, shaving my legs. Despite some awesome matching cuts on my achilles, I felt fairly relaxed and ready to race come Sunday.

Swim

I lined up next to Chris (Lieto) because I’d swam with him before at Vineman, and hoped to stay with him again. After the washing-machine first 400 meters, I got on someone’s feet and swam like hell. When I sighted, I saw the guy had a yellow cap, and I immediately though to myself, “Oh my god, I think I just tickled Lance Armstrong’s feet!” Just kidding. I actually thought “Hot damn these guys are going impossibly fast.” And…I was right. About 700 meters in I got dropped, and swam the rest of the way behind one other dude.

Bike

The first part of the course was AMAZING. Hilly and rolling through pretty lush forests. Yes, I said pretty, like a beautiful rainbow and butterflies. I was actually enjoying riding my new bike in la-la land despite crushing my legs trying to catch the group. At the first turnaround, I wasn’t catching the group, so I settled into a more sustainable/mellow pace. At the next turn around, I saw that I had lost another 2 minutes, ~3.5 minutes out of 8-10^th place. If I didn’t start cranking, there was no way 8^th place (my goal) was within reach. So I HAMMERED for the next 20 miles and started picking off some guys.  At the final turn around, I had gained 45 seconds on the group. When I got into transition, the announcer said, here comes Jesse Thomas, he’s in 9^th place, 3 minutes out of 8^th. He also said nice shades. Sweet!

Run

I’ve discovered that I can always tell, in the first mile, whether or not I’m going to have a great, average, or craptastic run. Let’s call it my Rundar (run + radar, Nerd Alert!). With the oven-like heat, my Rundar was hovering between low decent and solid craptastic. So I went into Survival Mode. I tried not to think about who was in front of me, what the gaps were, etc. If I caught people, great, but first and foremost I needed to finish or no 70.3 points. So I just ran off feel, concentrating on my nutrition plan.

Luckily for me, other guys were struggling in the heat as well, and they started cracking. I passed #8 about 4 miles in, #7 at mile 6. At mile 9 I started hurting pretty bad so I stepped it up to Survival-Beiber Mode and used the energy of the crowd to keep me going – giving High-Fives to anyone that wanted them, saying thanks when people said nice aviators, you know what I’m talking about. I passed Chris just after mile 11. I, of course, pretended like I was feeling great, and Chris just about gave me a heart attack by matching pace for about a mile. I was in NO mood for a sprint to the finish line. Luckily he wasn’t either, so I eventually had a safe distance to cruise in. I came in, zipped up my totally awesome new jersey and I crossed the finish line trying not to look like an aviator-wearing-sun-crusted-zombie. I was unsuccessful.

Overall

I finished 6^th place, 2^nd American behind Lance. I faded a bit on the run, maybe could have finished 5^th, but there’s always the shoulda, coulda, woulda. And, my fade wasn’t nearly as bad as other hot races like my Boise zombie crawl, or the biggest winner, my Philippines death march. The fact that I didn’t cramp, rode well, and finished strong is a good sign of things to come. Plus, I got 70.3 points, booyah.

Post Race

It was pretty cool to have Lance in the race, and I let myself enjoy it more after it was over. He drew a TON of unexpected attention, and obviously raised the level of the field with his finish.

After the race, a guy who had been talking with Lance introduced himself to me. He said he saw me out on the course and really liked my aviators and style. I told him thanks, that the glasses had, for better and for worse, kind of become my thing. He was a really nice guy and had some cool things to say. Turns out it was John Stapleton, Lance’s agent.

At the awards ceremony John grabbed Lance and introduced him to me as Jesse, the kid that was wearing the Aviators. Lance said that John had been telling him about how cool it was that this kid was racing in aviators, etc. We talked for a minute, I told him congrats on a great debut and got a pic with him. Honestly, I don’t get too star-struck, but it was pretty freaking cool that he knew about about the aviators.