Even before moving to Colorado, I knew Boulderthon was a big race that would be local to me once I got out here. What I didn't realize was when it would be. Turns out 3 weeks before Ironman California -- just enough time to send it and get right back into IM mode. Looking back, I wanted to do this race for a few reasons: - Embrace CO endurance culture - Do my first half outside of a 70.3 - Add more race experience - PR a half marathon Lets dig in. Pre race: There wasn't much of a taper for this. I wanted to treat this as a C level race: one you just show up and do. The week leading into it was the 4th week out of IM Cal, so the peak of the build was already ending so this was a perfect week to get a little bit of recovery for my first half. The week before was a massive 13 hour week and this race week ended up being just under 8 hours, so kinda of a pseudo taper week. My goal for this race was to hold a 7:59min/mile pace the entire way. That was my goal for the half marathon in Chattanooga so I wanted to at least hit that goal for a standalone half marathon. For my runs this week I had this number on my mind, so I was mentally thinking of this performance all week. The night before was pretty simple. Shoes, gels, clothes, bib all prepped on the table. Lights off early. Rice and Four Pepper ground beef consumed. Put water and coffee grounds in the coffee pot. In bed by 10pm, ready for a 4:30am wake up. Race mornings I like to keep simple too. Some water to start the morning followed by some fruit and bagels. Made myself 2 cups of coffee so I can wake up before the race starts. Quick Google to where I needed to be and what time, then took off about an hour before the race start. This was a massive race. Thousands of runners across multiple distances. Much different than an Ironman level race. The race blocked off a street for 4 blocks just dedicated to the start line. I thought I was going to be in the back until I noticed the pace time was 2:30 (and 5:00 for the marathon) so started heading towards the actual start line. Hit a quick bathroom break, found the 1:45 pace crew (I still don't remember what that pace was) and waited for the gun to start.

Experience. 1. Holy smokes was I ever nervous leading up to the event. Ryan and I chatted back and forth, as my anxiety of my biggest / most formal event was upcoming. I had entered arenas in the past, but nothing comes at you as much as an IRONMAN. The name in itself is intimidating. It got to me, don’t kid yourself. 2. The day before the event I got in the truck and travelled 3 hrs to the location. Vibing to some good music, I pass by a house of my good buddy Sean who recently passed away from cancer. I take a mental visual of his house as I drive by and appreciate what we have to still be able to do these things. 3. I show up to the event. Park my truck through half an hour of chaos, to finally put my feet on grass. Alright, we’re here. I grab my shit, pump up my tires to 90 psi (20 above recommended amount) because I want no rolling resistance. Grab the bike, lets go. 4. Walk for about 15 minutes and I’m into the chaos of people and organizers shouting rules, requirements, etc. Holy F! This is a legit race I tell myself. I pass by the organizers and bystanders, anxiously place my bike on the side of a wall (no lock) and head into the registration check in. 5. Walk into the arena, there are vendors everywhere, and anxious people around looking at the board to find their registration number. I knew mine because I’m a prepper and knew it was #281 from weeks ago when they released them. Checked in, got my shit, time to head back outside and place my bike. 6. Grabbed the TREK, moved to a corral like a bunch of cattle and found 3 aisles that said M40-M44. Found one and placed my bike. Looked around and for some reason found comfort in the chaos. I’m not alone in being anxious. Whispers around me about “this is the worst part” neighbouring racers mentioned to each other. 7. I placed my bike, took a mental picture and some deep breaths, and headed back to my truck. Before leaving there is panic in the volunteers screaming at everyone to release tire pressures due to the heat. No idea what this meant I asked what looked like a seasoned pro (he was – didn’t catch his name though). He coached me through tire pressure distribution and suggested I release tire pressure for the day to ensure they don’t pop from the heat. Took his advice, went back and released pressure on the tires for the day. Pump them up in the morning – okay/

What up team!? Great job on all the week 1 submissions last week! Here is the overview for this week -- https://docs.google.com/document/d/12Rg-Yo9wL9cq6A0w2f2ydmCw0_NMbyDrn4uaVYc1dG8/edit?usp=sharing For this week we are changing it up and returning to the "Write About Wednesday" format, so submissions are due on Wednesday!! Lets get it this week!

Rising Ritual Yo team!! We are back with another challenge this month Here is the prompt for this week: the Rising Ritual https://docs.google.com/document/d/13DqMEGaP6KGGzApgZfeszoBf6oszNVBVHuR0SwQacCc/edit?usp=sharing Looking forward to reading everyone’s reflections 👀

Leave the driveway and run through NorthWood Hills….Past the 1000 square foot rental house on Oakhurst St where we brought our first baby home from the hospital….Down Elm Street past the historic, antebellum homes to the courthouse lawn….Through town square, down the hill until I see the gates of the track….2 miles on the dot….Stack miles on the track then back out the gate….Past the kid’s favorite ice cream shop and back to the courthouse lawn….Down North St past the friendly older couple on their front porch waiting to wave at me….Down the dark, secluded Robertson Road until I make it to the hill that peers down into my back window. The house is still. Although I run other routes on occasion, this is the route that I’ve logged 90% of my miles on during the last three years I’ve become serious about endurance training. Of all of those miles, at least 80% of them have been at night, after 8pm, once the kids are asleep and my wife is settled in bed. I have three small children ages 5, 3, and 2. I am fortunate, at 33 years old, to be part of a thriving, busy law practice that keeps me working odd hours. I prefer running in the mornings but unpredictable wake up schedules and almost daily 8:00 a.m. court appearances make consistent early runs logistically infrequent. I used to let this bother me but, somewhere along the way, I decided to embrace it. Almost weekly, someone that follows me on Strava sends a text like this one yesterday from my brother-in-law: “Did you really run 3 miles at 9:30 p.m. last night? On a Friday night? Why, bro?” The people sending these texts don’t realize that these nights runs are no longer just a form of exercise. They are a necessity. A part of my newfound identity. In 2018, my wife and I made the decision to move to the most northern part of Mississippi, away from our hometown nestled in the Mississippi hill country, to accept an associate attorney position at the law firm I continue to work with today. It was only an hour and a half from our hometown but, due to the proximity to Memphis, it felt like moving to the “big city” compared to the small, 3 stop light town we grew up in. Since that move, we’ve had an apartment, a rental home, three babies, lots of tears and heartache, lots of growing up, lots of growing closer, our current home, our church family, and lots of joy. This place is the only place my children have ever called home.