Race Saga: Ironman 70.3 World Championship (Chattanooga, TN)


Climbing Mt. Lookout with Vinny hot on my heels

On Sunday, September 11, 2017, I raced the Ironman 70.3 World Championship in Chattanooga, Tennessee.
It’s almost weird to see those words on a screen. A full fourteen months earlier I had qualified at Vineman in Windsor, CA, an eternity by qualifying standards. After all of the build up for over a year, it’s hard to believe the race has come and gone and that a month later, I’m finally sitting down to write about it. I haven’t let that much time go between a race and writing in years, but it’s fair to say it took a bit of time to settle, assess, reflect and move forward.

With that said, you should know that this is a much meatier race report than I usually write So much went into the prep and I can recall almost every second of the race in detail, the words just flowed. And as I’m going against my content ethos of “less is more,” I’ve rebranded this from a Race Report to a RACE SAGA. Cue the epic rock opera guitars, you’ve been warned and I guarantee it’s worth it.


Fourteen Months Is a Long Time…  

I tend not to place too high an importance on any one race, even Championship races, and I’ve been fortunate enough to do a few: Vegas, Canada twice, Austria and Chicago. But even with that experience, it’s fair to say the longer lead up and higher expectations as an athlete added to the anticipation for Chattanooga. Whereas before I was happy to have qualified for and participated in Worlds, I now wanted to test my mettle against the best in the world. I wanted success. Specifically, I wanted to be on the podium.

How was I going to achieve the success, a podium result, that had eluded me at prior Worlds races?

– Well for one a big swim focus. I stayed in LA for two months, working remotely and training with Gerry Rodrigues of Tower 26.

– I overhauled my bike fit to stop giving away free time with my TT position that was borderline “touring.”

– I traveled to Chattanooga in May to race the standard Ironman 70.3 as a “tune up” and course familiarization.

– I worked directly with Matt Dixon on a detailed training plan that would help me build without breaking down as I have in the past.

– I embraced a new style of run training that purplepatch has been using with its athletes – less sustained race pace and more broken pyramids building above race pace with form running between.

– I did sauna training and heat training in the Bay Area’s record setting heat wave to get ready for a hot, Tennessee summer day (which never came).

– And finally, “I did what got me there,” instead of overthinking things. Ok, maybe three weeks out I slipped and needed to be reminded by Dixon not to”mess* it up.” But hey, at that point I was ready to rock and itching to race! (*did not say mess)

So I arrived to Chattanooga at peace with my preparation and with an optimistic confidence that, if I managed the day and raced to my fitness level, I could do well. Spending time with my teammates, cementing strategy with Dixon and getting the best pre-race haircut from Dani only helped with this feeling of peace and readiness. Come Sunday morning, there was nothing to do but put on the noise cancelling headphones and go to “that place” in the midst of the race morning craziness. Dawn at a race start is always nuts, but it was a little more intense that day. It was the World Championship, after all, and folks from all over the globe were there to send it.



Ears cannot be contained

Ironman 70.3 World Championship Swim

Eventual podium finisher, first place Every Man Jack athlete and housemate, Jack McAfee lived in Tennessee and knew a boat ramp up the river we could hop in from to get a practice swim since they weren’t letting athletes warm up in the water at the race start. To my delight, they allowed amateurs to wear wetsuits. It’s no secret that, like most, when I put on that Roka Maverick, I’m a different swimmer. After 10-15 minutes of trying not to get carried down river as a warm up, we hopped out and ran over to our start wave.

The start was an interesting format. In order to really address drafting concerns on the bike, they split age group waves up by ten minutes, which was available given the women’s race was split to Saturday. Then within each wave, a rolling start was facilitated as it is race-wide in other races, with athletes self selecting starting position based on projected finish time. Finally, once a time group was given the green light to move forward, athletes lined up into a horizontal corral gate like a horse race, eight athletes wide. The athlete at the front of each line dove into the water at the sound of the horn, and their spot at the front of the corral was back filled immediately with the next athlete, who would dive at a horn about five seconds later. It was really impressive.

So Jack and I found Vince D’Onofrio in the wave start by back end the 25-27min swim sign, which seemed like a good place to start. I knew I wasn’t going to swim 25min but on the right set of feet in my wetsuit, I was hoping to swim at least a 28min (by effort, times would be slower in current). Before we knew it we were being ushered into the corrals like race horses and the timing between Vince and I got thrown off so the horn sounded and off I went.

My World Championship race had officially started.

I was thrilled to have a really solid dive. I credit this to the many, many deck ups and dive sets I did at Tower 26. My goggles stayed on my face without any water getting in and I with a few “dolphin kicks” (controlled thrashes) I actually came up in a great spot ahead of the others, allowing me to cut over to the buoy line so I could sight on the shortest path.

The course was designed roughly as 400 meters cross current, 1,000 meters upstream, 200 meters cross/down, 300 meters downstream (these are guesses, translated as fine, slow, fine, fast). So the biggest stretch of the course was fairly challenging swimming upstream.

I made good time and was with a solid group in the first 400m cross current. Once we made the turn, it didn’t take long for the group dynamic to become suspect at best. Not only were we swimming upstream, the sun was just in the right spot to make buoys pretty tough to see. Thankfully I’d gotten a new pair of mirrored Rokas so these along with my regular sighting kept me right on track, all but tagging each buoy with my shoulder.

Probably three-fourths of the way through this upstream segment, my arms started to yell at me, “much effort, not speed!” (my arms don’t have great grammar) I keyed into some of the big sets I did with Gerry and Dixon and focused on high turn over and gobbling up as much water as I could with each stroke. This “bounce back” to form and strength was something I never could have done in races prior, and I knew was a direct result of all the work we had done, giving me confidence the rest of the swim.

I was relieved to make the turn out of upstream and free up the stroke a little bit in the cross stream. Before I knew it I was making the “kinked” turn for the final downstream stretch, implementing Dixon’s guidance to lengthen the stroke with a bit more glide with the current. The current was like a valet delivering me to the swim exit, which was appreciated after muscling upstream.

I came out in a competitive position within the race. I’d swam well, for me. While I didn’t know this at the time, exiting with a mass of bodies, I felt good and that’s what matter as I charged to my bike through the long transition up the river bank.

Time: 30:33

Thoughts: I’m really happy about this, as it was roughly the same time I swam at Ohio, which was obviously not upstream. Improvements!


Ironman 70.3 World Championship Bike


Caught mid snack. Noms.

After methodically scurrying through transition, I got to my bike with a bunch of guys all charging to get the next part of the race started. “The climb,” a fifteen minute trek up Lookout Mountain followed by miles of up-trending rollers, loomed before we’d even reach mile four, so I took the opportunity to build into an effort while hydrating. Swimming in warmer water with a wetsuit can be sneakily dehydrating so I didn’t want any surprises from the cramp fairy later in the race.

The base of the climb is really freaking steep and on cue, guys started to flex their climbing muscles and take off up the pitch. I stuck to the game plan laid out by Dixon, stay controlled on the first half climbs, open it up on the back half flats.

In order to stay controlled on the climbs, I put the watts data field on my computer for the first race in three years, with the goal to keep watts at a solid zone 3+ effort and no more. As guys rode past me, this wattage number was there to prevent me from flexing back. And half way up the first part of the climb, I heard a familiar voice, Vince had ridden to catch up with me.

Vince was riding really well up the climbs and we made our way through groups of guys while managing the pile ups on the rollers. It was tough to get into rhythm riding with the undulating terrain broken up by clusters of riders. Finally, we broke through the finally roller and a big, fast, sweeping descent welcomed us.

I knew this would be an opportunity to make a gap on the guys that may not have been comfortable descending, especially if they came from places without mountains. So I did my best Sebastian Kienle impression and laid on my top tube with arms folded beneath me, hands on breaks, using them only for the occasional feathering at tight turns. When I got to the bottom and returned to my seat I looked behind me to see that Vince and one other guy had made the break with me. The three of us worked legally through the second third of the race.

To my dismay, there were cars on the course, driving with the race. On multiple occasions I slowed significantly as they crawled along debating the safest way to pass a bike race (hint: there really isn’t one). It cost valuable time and at one point I was almost run off the road.

Otherwise this part of the course was flat to rolling and where there weren’t cars, the rhythm was fluid. And about fifteen miles from the finish, the road opens up to a highway with smooth, wide roads and a steady but small incline. This is wear I made a move to get some time back from the cars and after a bit I realized the guys I was riding with were gone.

Just as I started to get excited about making it back to town, a few miles from the run transition, I felt myself getting passed by a pretty strong rider. I looked over and was bummed to see someone directly on his wheel. Looking back even further I saw this was an unapologetic draft train, ten guys deep. I was too close to finishing the bike without getting caught up in this crap so I hopped out of the saddle and passed back and rode hard to hold them off.

After five minutes, they caught me again, all ten guys in the same order, 6 inches off each other’s wheels. I threw up my hands at the matter, sat up, rode 200 watts and told each guy that rode by they were cheating. And in a case of great timing, a course marshal was sitting in a parking lot. He pulled out and started taking numbers. Score one for the honest racers! But I wasn’t going to get that time back from needing to sit up and let the train go by to a safe distance.

Knowing this, I hit transition with a great sense of purpose, handing my bike off and grabbing my shoe bag. Sadly, it took me an extra second or two to put my left shoe on, enough to make a mental note of.

If you’re wondering why I keep referring to instances of lost seconds, continue reading. There’s only one more leg of the race to get to before it all comes together.

Time: 2:24:25

Thoughts: Certainly not my best ride in time, placement or watts. I attribute this to being perhaps overly conservative, not as strong as I could have been in some spots and the cars/draft packs preventing rhythm riding.


Ironman 70.3 World Championship Run


The part that wasn’t up or down hill.

One thing that stuck out when I raced Chattanooga in May was a tough first mile of the run: a quick U-turn after a couple hundred meters, a cement path along the river and a steady hill. Having that mental and muscle memory was a huge benefit as I focused on good form and flow.

This course was different than the one in May, however, as it featured more hills – almost 1,000 feet of climbing. And like the bike, the focus was to manage the uphills, bomb the downhills and run “well” on the flats (i.e. running fast without focusing on running fast, rather on form).

I thought that I’d set up a good run with a steady diet of GU chews, Picky Bar and GU hydration tabs on the bike. However when I got to mile two of the run, I was labor intensive a bit more than I would have liked and my mind was going to some not so happy places. Way too early for this. These can be signs that, in fact, fueling was behind and I didn’t quite top off as expected on the bike. The next aid station I took a gel and washed it down.

This, in addition to a snappy riverside flat section, brought me back and I was running like myself. I was cruising at about 5:45 and felt really good. I hit the spot that I projectile vommited before losing the lead in May and smiled to myself, I felt much better right now. I hit the bridge and was floored by the crowd support, as the DJ pumped “Firestarter” by Prodigy. Are you kidding me?! Game on!

The first big climb came and went and I was really pleased with how I managed the pace. It felt like a crawl but I continued to make headway before cresting and letting it rip on the downhill. In a great example of sadistic but lovely course design, almost immediately after slamming the quads on the down does one turn around and go back up. It was Wildflower-esque. Knowing that I’d do this sequence again, I managed the up all the while taking mental cues for the next time. And of course, what goes up must come down so bombs away, I descended again, this time bottoming out along the river.

Returning over the river via the pedestrian bridge I felt in control and ready to push the pace on the second loop. Hearing cheers from Dani, Steve and Kaelyn as I made the turn to loop two was a nice jolt.

Throughout the race any one of the almost forty Every Man Jack kits acted as a rabbit. In a way, we knew we were racing the world’s best, but I think to an equal extent, we were all chasing each other around out there. There’s such a deep level of respect that comes with knowing how hard your teammates work and just how talented they are. My goal on the second loop was to catch as many guys as I could because if I was doing that, I was racing well.

And in that second loop, confidence and comfort grew as I continued to run better with each passing mile. It was the first time in awhile I felt like I could really run like myself off the bike. I returned to the bumping bridge running at a good clip but knowing the last hill sequence stood between me and a strong finish. As I hit that final hill, I steadily managed the pace up and made it through without any issues. Success! Bombing down the hill was less graceful than before, but again, no issues from the quad pounding. Double success! There was one last hill in my way before relatively smooth sailing home. I felt really good on the way up and even picked up the pace before one last all out bomb.

The last mile from there is a blur. It involved a lot of fast running and just as much spit and sweat flying in different directions. I hit the pedestrian bridge emptying the chambers, bobbing and weaving through racers, knowing it was my last bit of running before an all out free fall to the finish down the river bank.

Running as fast as I could down the final hill and onto the stretch of road leading to the finishers chute, I got emotional. The first emotion was sheer pain from pushing an all out sprint at the end of an over-four hour effort. The second was the inspiration of my grandmother, who was heavy on my mind that day as she fought through challenges of her own back in Ohio. There were definitely some ugly tears happening behind those shades.

I crumbled and collapsed at the finish line after passing as many guys as I could down the chute. I had nothing left to give, which is how it should be at the end of a World Championship race.

Time: 1:19:06

Thoughts: Like the swim, I’m happy that this was as fast as my Ohio split on a much more challenging course. It means that I was fit and running well.

The Result

As I laid in a heap just after the finish line, little did I know above me read the time of the finisher three seconds before me, a Brit who grabbed the last podium spot. For all my efforts, it was a left running shoe in transition, a car on course, a draft pack passing – any portion of any one of those – that kept me off the podium. Heck, if I took three sips of water that were each a second too long, that would be the difference.

And while it’s easy to look at that drop your jaw at the sheer silliness of a three second differential in a four plus hour race, I feel great about my effort and the result. I may not have made it onto the podium, but it was a podium effort on the day. It’s something I can hold my head high about and be proud of the preparation and the journey to get there.

A fun side note, my friend and training partner Derk de Korver raced literally the same time as me, to the second, and also missed the podium by three seconds. You spend enough time with someone…! We found out over drinks after the race, as he got in the water before I did, so I never saw him, the sad and often silly side effect of age group wave racing.

What’s Next?

September feels so early to end a season. So I signed up for my first Cabo 70.3 in November, where I’ll look to end the season with a solid result and after, some tequila and tacos with my brother.


Thanks to anyone who made it all the way through this race saga. It was a fun event to prepare for and do, and to write about. A massive thanks to my support system: Dani, my family, Team EMJ, purplepatch and the incredible sponsors that showed us love all week. It was a success because of you all.

Race Recap: Ironman 70.3 World Championship


Thanks for the pic, Dana!


It was eleven months ago that I sat in the only shade I could find in a Henderson, Nevada parking lot, behind the stage where I would eventually claim my award for winning my division at Ironman 70.3 Silverman. It was really hot and it was sunny – shocking – and the grill that was making the post race barbecue seemed to find the only wind in Henderson as it plumed it’s warm meaty exhaust in our faces.

Why were my mom and I sitting here instead of heading back to Vegas to spend time with my cousins? Because for one reason or another this is what people at triathlons do. But also because I had one of my best races to date, finishing 9th overall including pros and I was awaiting the opportunity to claim my slot to race the world’s best in Zell Am See, Austria the following year. Weeks earlier I’d just raced 2014 Worlds in Mont Tremblant, Quebec and I said that was enough travel for me and that I’d skip Austria. Amazing how a convincing performance can change your perspective.

Almost a full year later, I stood again in the exposed sun, this time at the water’s edge in Zell Am See about to start the race. A lot had happened in eleven months, and though I knew that injuries prevented me from reaching the start line in the type of shape I envisioned in Henderson last October, I had fully embraced the journey and was ready to rock.

Besides, this was the World Championship, where everyone has a story and the race waits for no one.

The Course

A quick word about the course: it was astoundingly beautiful. If you have two and a half minutes to spare, I highly recommend watching this awesome race preview video.

The Swim – 1.2mi (29:37)

This swim was set up perfectly for me. Lake, not ocean: check. Comfortable, but still wetsuite legal temperature: check. Simple course layout: check.

The cannon went off and the washing machine started. Championship races are always intense because everyone is good and no one wants to give up ground. I stayed calm, took the kicks to the face and began to swim my race. Sighting was a breeze with buouys every 100m and I built the effort to the turn around, where I found myself ahead of the group that I was swimming with after a few nifty buouy moves I learned at a Boost swimming camp in Tahoe.

At first I was alone because of said nifty moves. But then I realized there was a little current pushing me away from the buouys, so I fixed my sighting and latched back on. The current seemed to make the last 400m take much longer than I hoped. The end result was a fairly well executed line, with a bit of trailing off for a pedestrian swim by my standards.

The Bike – 56mi (2:30:50 – incl. time penalty)

Transition was very long, but extremely efficient and well layed out. I passed about ten guys on the run with our bikes. After riding the course a handful of times before the race, I knew the first mile through the neighborhoods was where I needed to get my shoes on and focus on drinking.

After making it through the narrow country road intact, I went to work through Brück and was feeling good early. Then we hit highway 311, and the draft party started. Not unlike Vegas or Mont Tremblant in years prior, the displays of drafting were shameless. All I could do is make sure I was the right distance from the train. Then a referee rolled by. I took a mental note that no penalties were given. Interesting. Still, I put down 650 watts to pass the whole train and free myself of the worry.

As I hit the bottom of THE climb that defines the bike course (see elevation chart above), I saw David Wild from the Oakland Tri Club. “Lotta cheaters out here today,” I said to him, with which he agreed. About five minutes after that exchange, the train rolled up and before I knew it, we were riding the climb together. This is not uncommon for climbs in a race. It’s really tough to keep distance at such low speeds and the reality is no one is going to benefit on a hill like we were climbing anyways.

A different referee rolled up this time and I took that as my cue to again pass the whole lot of them. However this time when I swung out to pass she said, “You did not let enough time pass after being overtaken, Blue card.”

Did that just happen? Was I just given a drafting penalty for finding myself in a group and trying to get out of it to avoid a drafting penalty?

I knew pleading my case was useless, so after biting my bottom lip (hard) and accepting reality, I put my head down and rode like a bat out of hell. I passed guys like they were going backwards. And when I hit the top, I attacked the insanely steep and techinical downhill – where one descends 1,000ft in 2 miles. And when I hit the flats after that, I kept the speed up. I cornered the turns that I’d stuided and crested rollers with purpose. I knew the only chance I had at a result even close to decent was to ride hard and hope I’d run enough miles to survive a decent run.

As we re-entered Zell Am See at mile 35, the crowds were amazing. I had the less exciting reception of big, bright yellow tent where I would dismount my bike, report my blue card and sit for five minutes. The timeout box for triathletes. I tried to stretch, eat and drink to keep my mind off the stark reality that all the work that I’d done was dissipating, but as entire pelotons of 20+ riders rolled by drafting at 30mph, frankly, I was steamed.

The ladies counted down and I hopped on my bike and slammed away. It was truly a mental battle to stay focused and not think about how one person and their questionable call had turned my race on its head. Further more, once I hit highway 168 I was right back in the drafting madness after working so hard to get out of it, so finding a rhythm was impossible. It was at that moment where I reminded myself that no one could control how this race ended but me. Every time I thought of anything but my effort, I immediately reminded myself of this. My objective for the last ten miles was to ride as consistently as I could, without getting another drafting penalty, and finally get off this bike and onto the run.

The run – 13.1mi (1:27:51)

I hit the long transition and sprinted out to the run course. I realized imediately I was screwed. I felt slow right off the bat. I turned in a 6:26, 32 seconds slower than my first mile at Muncie.

I’ll be honest, for a second I wanted to quit. My mind was still reeling from the penalty, I was slow, everything hurt and I was light headed. But I remembered why I was doing this. Because it was fun and I wanted to be there. And I remembered that my grandma works so hard to rehab her leg just so she can get her daily walks in. And just…sh*t’s tough, man. It’s only 12 miles. Just freakin do it.

After the pep talk, I committed to the run even though it was not going to be to my standards. The first thing I had to do was get fluids. I simply did not put enough in my body during the bike. I was too focused after the penalty on riding as fast as possible and avoiding drafting that I did not take in enough fluids or calories during the bike leg to set up a good run. So at the first aid station, I stopped fully and scarfed a buffet of Coke and Powerade as I poured multiple glasses of water over my head.

I went through the raucous crowds in the cobblestones of Zell Am See like a zombie. It was truly a struggle through 10K as I struggled to stay within a whole minute of my goal pace. And then, all of the Coke, ice and water seemed to rejuvinate me a bit and I could again run with purpose. By the time I hit downtown Zell Am See again, I was a different person. On the second loop, I was passing many of the guys who I watched zoom by from the penalty tent. And that felt great.

In the last two miles I was moving faster than I had all day and as I passed the final guy from my division I would get before the finish line, I blew through the aid station so as not to waste a single moment. I was in so much pain, but all I could do was smile for the last half a mile.

The crowd’s energy on the cobblestone roads was amazing. The day had been a sufferfest. We were in the freakin’ Alps racing triathlon! And I didn’t let a crap hand dealt to me ruin the day. I ran my fastest mile of the day and crossed the roaring finish line with something between a smile and a grimmace from ear to ear.

Result – 70.3mi (4:36:57, 224th Overall, 42nd Age Group, 6th American Amateur)

Between the hysteria of the finish line and the line for alcohol free beer for recovery (only in Europe!), I peeled off into an old wood and stone doorway and put my head against the door. I didn’t know if I was going to pass out, or cry, or barf, or all three at the same time, but all I knew was that I hurt. Everywhere.

I definitely gave everything to this race. This was my “A” race for the year. I got there early, trained on the course, the works. And I loved every minute of it; I’d take none of it back. Two weeks prior I was literally bleeding on the side of the road. I felt fortunate to start, fortunate to finish and like I gave myself the best chance to succeed and even though the race took a turn for the unforeseen. I loved the journey, learned a lot, including that I can ride really hard in a race, probably even without a blue card (not that I’ve ever heard from teammate or coaches before…).

What’s next?

– Sep 19: ITU World Championship (Olymic) – Chicago

Another World Championship race! I’ll be racing for Team USA in Chicago at the Worlds for the Olympic distance triathlon, which is shorter, fast and furious at (hopefully) less than two hours.

– Oct 4: Ironman 70.3 Silverman – Las Vegas/Henderson

We come full circle. Back to the course in Henderson, Nevada where this whole journey started. I’ll be happy to toe the line at this hot, hilly, desert course and see where this season wraps up!


A HUGE thanks to everyone that supported me during my go at Austria. It really means a lot and was a huge motivator for me to finish strong. Thanks to Team Every Man Jack. The support from the team was great and it was a pleasure racing with the guys in Zell. All of the sponsors, which you can see on the Mike Likes tab. A particularly large shoutout to Sports Basement and Felt, who turned around my wrecked bike in 48 hours! And a final, special shoutout to Meredith Kessler, for being there every step of the way from side of the road bloodied to start line.

Thanks for reading and stay tuned for updates!


Red carpet treatment for athletes at Worlds


Heading out on the bike course on my Felt IA3 and Rudy Project Wing 57. These plus shaved legs would make anyone fast.


I know, man


America needs to get on the beer post race thing



Nutella or cinnamon? How about both? K.

Checking in: Austria!

A wise man once said that in Austria “the beer flows like wine and the women instictively flock like the salmon of Capistrano.” Or maybe he was talking about Aspen. In any case, I am in Zell Am See/Kaprun, Austria for the Ironman 70.3 World Championship and it’s  definitely beautiful:

Trying to fiind some boring roads with Jesse and Kevin. Not working.


A lot has happened between the Muncie race and Europe. Some great, some not so great. And I get ready for Worlds by playing triathlon in this gorgeous place, it’s as good a time as any for a check in.

The year of gimp continues:

– In my Muncie race report, I mentioned hurting a rib in a bouncy house at the family reunion. Well, that bouncy house forced me to sleep upright for a week and not swim for two. You win bouncy house.

– The thing about injuries is sometimes you can over compenstate. Since I couldn’t swim, I overdid it on the bike and run and messed up my left knee, which scaled back running for a few weeks. Le sigh.

– Just when things started to come together, I had a freak crash four days before leaving for Austria. I was well taken care of during and after the crash and because Sports Basement and Felt keep Team EMJ’s bikes running fast, they overnighted parts and fixed my bike just before I took off. So race is on!


One of many ouchies. Roads are hard…


Making it work. Perspective heading into Worlds:

For those of you keeping track at home, that’s bike wreck #1, bronchitis from hell, rib, knee, bike wreck #2 in 2015. All you can do is understand that things happen, to everyone, and the most you can do is work with what you have on any given day to get better. Just make it work. In that light, I’m feeling good about Worlds on Sunday, because I know I’ve given it everything I’ve had this season.

On top of any of that, riding bikes in Europe is always something I’ve wanted to do and the rides I’ve done so far are incredible. I’m like a kid in Disney world (Epcot, obviously).

The main event(s):

I’ve been racing since April, but this is the meat and potatoes of the season. I like both meat and potatoes. So I’m pretty excited.

– Aug 30: Ironman 70.3 World Championship – Zell Am See, Austria

– Sep 19: ITU World Championship (Olymic) – Chicago

– Oct 4: Ironman 70.3 Silverman – Las Vegas/Henderson

It’s been a crazy year since qualifying for Worlds last year at Silverman in Vegas. I’m really excited and super fortunate to be racing such high profile races over the next six weeks! Stay tuned for updates.

Signing off from Austria. Wait for it, wait for it…