06/28/2026
Remember this? Yeah….the race report got detached when I posted it! Here it is 😎
Happy reading!
Read all the way to the end…he would do it again! 🤩
IMJAX Race Report
My biggest strength and greatest weakness. I’m never 100% proud of myself. Not because I don’t appreciate how far I’ve come or what I’ve achieved, but because I know there’s always another level waiting. Every medal, every race, every early morning and setback reminds me I’m still building. Never satisfied. Always chasing better.
I refuse to use age as a limiter. I want to keep setting PRs while getting older.
Going into IMJAX, I was in one of the best shapes of my life.
189 lbs.
Strong, lean, fast.
2nd highest FTP ever: 256.
Everything pointed toward a PR race and finally breaking sub-11, with an outside shot at 10:30-ish if conditions were perfect and we got a fast wetsuit swim.
2026 Numbers:
ATL 70
CTL 121
TSB 44
For comparison, before IMFL 2015:
ATL 61
CTL 77
TSB 11
Then reality slapped me hard.
12:08:47.
My slowest solo Ironman.
Nutrition was dialed in. 70-80g/carb/hour. 1200-1600mg sodium/hour. No gut issues.
Swim: 1:05:34
Predicted: 1:17:26
No wetsuit. No crazy current. Still my fastest swim ever. St. John’s River is not as bad as I thought it’d be but there were sections of diesel fuel & you definitely could barely see your hands.
USAT wouldn’t allow my Zoot calf sleeves because they classified them as a “wetsuit.” Ridiculous rule. I stuffed them in my bike bag before the swim, and then completely forgot about them in T-1. Had to sit back down, take my shoes back off, and wrestle wet calf sleeves onto wet legs.
T1: 9:03
Predicted: 6:00
Bike: 5:22:08 — 20.7 mph at 206 NP
Predicted: 5:14:19 — 21.4 mph at 203 NP
The course was tougher than expected. Punchier climbs, more elevation than the Strava map showed, and several sections we couldn’t preview during camp because of highway closures. Those last 2 climbs at mile 110 & 111 added insult to injury.
Special needs stop went efficiently enough. Grabbed my sandwich, refilled bottles, mixed Precision, kept moving.
Lesson learned:
Don’t put cucumber slices on a sandwich in 100° heat without a cooler bag.
Around mile 60 my left big toe started feeling like it was on fire. Around mile 70 my right arch joined the party. No clue why. Bike fit is dialed in. I’ve done countless 50+ mile rides and multiple centuries on this setup without issues.
It got so bad I had to pull my feet out of my shoes and pedal on top of them.
(Apparently the concussion I suffered in March — and lingering effects from it — may have contributed.)
By mile 100 I was desperate to get off the bike… which is ironic because cycling is my favorite discipline. But I also knew once the run started, I’d be begging to be back on the bike.
T2: 5:57
Predicted: 5:00
Then came the run: 5:23:17
Predicted: 3:59:44
This is where everything unraveled.
I had hoped it would be like IMFL 2015 — rough for a mile or two, then things click into place. So I wasn’t panicking early, even with the slow pace.
But my legs just never showed up.
Breathing was controlled. Heart rate was manageable. Mentally, I was ready to go. But physically, my body was in full revolt.
So I pivoted.
Original goal:
Run the entire marathon with only aid-station walk breaks.
New goal:
4:15 run / :45 walk.
Something I’ve trained and practiced plenty.
That lasted briefly.
Then 4/1.
Then 3/1.
Then eventually it became:
Jog when possible. Survive the rest.
And that was all during the first 8-mile loop.
Mentally, things got dark.
I got emotional. Started spiraling.
So many people were watching me. Some probably hoping I’d fail. Most cheering me on. But either way, I felt exposed.
I had huge goals and I was falling apart publicly.
My athletes.
Future athletes.
Other coaches.
Teammates.
My coach voice when I talk to my athletes spoke up. Loudly.
“He blew up on the bike.”
“Doesn’t he know triathlon is 3 sports?”
“You can’t have a good swim and bike with a terrible run.”
The heat started taking its toll too. I got foggy. Delirious.
Then I finally made it to the tri club village.
Seeing Kayla, Brook, Jordan, and Helen gave me a huge lift. Helen walked with me for a bit and coached me exactly the way I needed. She always knows what to say to keep me moving forward.
Lap 2 was slightly better… until it got dark again.
This time I went full Sméagol and Gollum — literally arguing with myself out loud for miles.
Some stretches I could actually run well.
Others I was barely moving.
Every lap we climbed the long ramp, spiraled back down to the riverfront, wound through the pavers, and heard the finish line the entire time without actually getting there.
Seeing everyone again helped me reset each loop.
Then came lap 3.
Sara caught up to me, and I can’t explain how grateful I was for that.
I kept telling her to run ahead. She kept refusing.
She said she enjoyed the pace and the company.
(Meanwhile she signed up for this race ONE WEEK earlier and was basically cruising.)
She carried me through some really dark moments and even got me jogging the final couple miles… and smiling again.
Thank you, Sara.
What I learned:
We always preach doing a race before your A race, to work out kinks and remind yourself what little things work and what don’t, practicing race strategy and nutrition in race mode. Well, my last real triathlon was Ironman Oregon 70.3 in July 2025; time constraints kept me from doing another closer to IM Jax, Andy performance suffered because of it.
I’m always experimenting with training methods — trying to figure out what works, what doesn’t, and what can help others breakthrough too.
This training block, instead of gradually building toward goal numbers, I started at the goal numbers immediately and forced adaptation from day one.
In training, it worked incredibly well.
I was also combining Spartan 300-style workouts with Ironman training and felt like I was blending both disciplines perfectly. Body composition improved. Speed improved. Endurance improved. Discipline improved.
I still think the approach has massive potential.
Where I screwed up was tapering too aggressively.
I cut strength training too early and let my TSB climb way too high.
Historically, I race really well around +10.
I showed up at +44.
I assumed because my fitness was so high that I needed to remove ALL fatigue.
I was wrong.
I also went out too hard during the first hour of the bike.
229 NP.
I got caught up in the excitement after the fast swim and started believing in fantasy splits.
I know better.
I coach better.
But it happened, and I own it.
What’s hardest is I still feel like I should’ve had a great race. Sometimes your body just refuses to cooperate and there’s no clean explanation.
That’s endurance sports.
The key is to keep moving forward anyway.
Adapt.
Overcome.
Learn.
Continue.
And yes… I’d do this race again.
