The rest of the swim was exactly what you hope for - relaxing and uneventful. Lake Taupo is crystal clear and I enjoyed the ride behind a large swimmer. With 800 meters to go, my ride stopped for a break, so I had to sprint up to the next set of feet. This put me in second spot in my bunch, and I prayed that my ride would keep his leading position. He did, and I was out of the water under 57 minutes.

A slow transition of three minutes saw me hit the bike course under the hour mark. Last spring, I learned flip turns. This spring, I will learn swim-to-bike transitions. Time to stop giving away time in T1.

For me, the first 30 minutes of the bike is one of the most powerful and dangerous times of the race. Rested, charged with adrenaline and ready to rumble. I flew out of town and said hi to a few of my fish-like buddies. I soon realized that my pace was unsustainable (4:30 pace) and backed off. I had to estimate my speed from the K-markers and think that I will experiment with a bike computer for my next IM.

My first lap took me 2:22. The first 30K was where I build the majority of that eight-minute cushion (on a five-hour bike time). The temperatures were similar to my last race in Canada, and I felt "cool" the whole way. As a result, I didn't drink enough in the first three hours of the race. I was using a caffeinated-gel product that may have contributed to a little "issue" I had on the run.

Once I stopped hammering, the rest of my ride was done on HR and I felt good right up to the 135K mark. The last 45K back to town saw me "empty the bank" of my time reserve. I did my best to think happy thoughts, and kept repeating "still in the game" as well as "feeling strong, moving along". My little mantras kept me rolling. I hoped my legs would come right and knew that there is always some major attrition on the run.

Soon, I was riding through the cheering crowd in Taupo. It was great to be back and my bike split was just under five hours. My legs were shot, but they are always gone at this time of the race.