Race Report-Ironman Florida 2010

First, when it comes to Ironman, you're only as good as your support.
This was my first, but I cannot imagine making it through the
training, much less the race, without the priceless support of my
family, friends, coach, teammates, church, and coworkers. Eight men
travelled to Florida this week to get me through this race and I'm
incredibly grateful for that. From carrying bags to keeping me loose,
they came to make the week easier for me and to make sure I didn't
quit on race day. They were awesome and I couldn't have done it
without them.

Race day started early. I'd asked Ronnie to get me up at 4AM if he
hadn't seen me yet. I was up and dressed at 3:30. When I opened the
door he was there already, "let's get ready to roll, brother." After
getting breakfast down and a quick prayer with the guys, we headed to
transition. We didn't just head to transition though. We rolled up on
our rented Georgia Bulldogs 7-man golf cart! A classic entrance on an
epic day. And no, none of us went to UGA...regardless "Go Dawgs!"
became the boy's battle cry for the weekend. In Gator country, no
less.

After setting up, we headed to the swim start but staged inside the
hotel for a bit to stay warm. The morning temperature was about 40
degrees and I was cold! As start time approached, they escorted me
out. I felt like a prize fighter. The guys had me surrounded and I had
my iPod blasting as we parted the crowd. Once on the beach, we had a
few more moments together, another prayer, and I made my way into the
corral.

The atmosphere at this point is hard to put into words. Minutes away
from the goal you've been chasing for more than a year. My first tears
came here, on the beach with 2800 other crazy people, freezing cold,
feet numb, and at complete peace with what was about to happen. My
prayer request to everybody who would listen for the past few weeks
had been for peace and calm on race day. When peace came with 1:58
left on the countdown clock, I teared up. As always, God had shown up
right on time.

Just as I'd gotten my goggles cleared out (tears!), the cannon went
off. It seemed like slow motion, as we headed out. I took my time,
enjoyed the feel of the warm water, took one last deep breath, and
dove right into the pack . Auto pilot took over. Just like the
countless laps at the pool and the race rehearsals, this was water and
this was swimming. Sure there were a lot of others out there, but it
was just another swim. I managed to steer clear of bad traffic and
got comfortable after a few minutes. The water was a little choppy,
but manageable. The first loop flew by and as I exited to make the
turn, all I could think was, "Holy crap, you're doing an Ironman!" I
think it really sank in on the second loop though. At that point I
remember the first of many conversations with God. I began thanking
Him for the opportunity to be out there and for the ways in which He's
touched my life through this sport. At times it was stream of thought.
At times I was just repeating "Abba Father" in my head. I'd never done
that before, racing or otherwise, but out there in the Gulf of Mexico,
it just felt right. Like he was swimming right next to me. The second
loop was a bit more bumpy and the current had picked up some. At the
far turn the swells felt like they were 4-6 footers by the way I was
getting tossed around. But no panic at all, just kept on swimming.
Unbelievable because swimming is not my bag! The home stretch was
pretty surreal. It felt like I was the only one out there. I imagined
Papa Joe on one side, swimming in his silver cap, and Ronnie on the
other side, paddling the surf board. Just like the last race
rehearsal. They got me home.

T1 was a mad house. Space was limited in the changing tent and I had
to put on all of my cold weather gear. It felt like it took forever.
Got my first laugh when I tried to sit down. I knew something wasn't
quite right when I felt cold metal hit my bare back side. I looked
down to see somebody's prosthetic leg in my chair! That'll get your
attention.

The bike leg felt unusually routine. My speed, my cadence, my heart
rate, all did just what coach Boo said they would do. It was cold and
there was some wind, but I was comfortable throughout. My only scary
moment came at mile 6 or so. I dropped my chain going over a bridge.
Luckily, I got it back on without having to stop. The guy I was
passing looked down and said, "I think you're good man." Thank you
Jesus! The rest was smooth, with lots of time for reflection. The
guys caught up with me on the course, yelling from the side of the
road & pulling along side in the car, talking and shooting video. I
wasn't up for much chatting but it was comforting knowing they were
there.

I made it to T2 feeling good, shed my layers, and was out. It sounds
funny, but it felt good to finally be down to my Tri4Him gear. I
wanted everybody to know what I was out there for and just that little
sense of pride gave me a boost. The first 6 miles felt great. I mean
great! Like I was floating. The next 6 weren't quite as fast, but I
was still feeling good and our game plan was working. At this point I
remembered being told that you find out what Ironman is about in the
second 13.1 miles. Guess I got a head start, because as good as I was
feeling at mile 12, at mile 12.5, it was gone. The legs went heavy,
negative thoughts started creeping in, and my head started spinning.
Focusing was difficult so I don't remember exactly what I said, but me
and the man upstairs started a 2 1/2 hour conversation at that point.
I was asking for strength and courage. He was reminding me of all the
ways that he'd provided for me in the past 18 months. Out of nowhere,
"The Dawg" and the scooter pulled along side me. Eight guys, six of
which I had no connection with when this journey started. The other
two were dad and Chad, my brother. A sight to see, seven grown men
packed in a Georgia Bulldogs golf cart and one on a bright yellow
scooter (picture "Dumb & Dumber"). All going nuts, yelling, and lying
to me, telling me how great I looked. Their constant presence and a
steady intake of flat Coke and pretzels got me through the next 6
miles. Mile 18. Not just the traditional point at which you find out
what you're made of, but the farthest I'd ever run in training. It was
the edge for me and as it approached I remember thinking, "Ok, you're
about to find out, what you came to find out." Here's where I really
got emotional again (man-code for cried...a lot). I was close to the
beach, looked over and saw the most amazing sunset I've ever seen.
Beautiful reds and a pink you wouldn't believe. Setting over the same
beach I stood on at sun rise and the same ocean I battled with to
start my day. The God who dialed up that sunset, just when I needed
it, was the same God who lead me down this path. The same God who
steadied me when life got rough last year and the same God who'd
gotten me to this point. And I had no doubt that He was going to see
me through the rest of this race. The next 8.2 miles weren't run on my
own power. I had nothing left. I found out what I came for. What
happens when we get to the edge of what we can do on our own. In life
or in an Ironman. He's there waiting patiently. Hoping that we've got
the guts to depend fully on Him. To let Him bear the burden and finish
the race for us. He did just that for me on Saturday.

As I crossed the finish line and heard, "Tobey Stevens, you are an
Ironman," I was humbled. Such and incredible journey. Such an
incredible day. There were no tears or fist pumps, just a quiet
internal peace and sense of gratitude. Yes, I was an Ironman but
without His grace, none of it would've been possible. Many have told
me that Ironman Florida would be a fitting end to this chapter of my
life. My take, it's just the beginning and I can't wait to find out
what's next.

Thanks again to all of you who played a part. Your prayers and support
were palpable on race day.