For the first time since 2023—I raced! And it was a blast.
Race weekend kicked off Friday evening when I headed out to my boat, planning to spend the weekend a couple of miles from the race. That night, I relaxed, watched some Shakespeare, and went to bed early.
On Saturday morning, I woke up, sailed around in the Sabot, grabbed some breakfast, and started heading to packet pickup. That’s when I got a call from my wife—our daughter wasn’t doing well, and they were headed to the hospital. I immediately dropped everything and rushed back to meet them.
Fortunately, the doctors determined she was okay—just needed some rehydration. I told my wife I was going to defer the race, but she firmly (and angrily) told me I had trained too hard to back out now and sent me on my way. I quickly changed plans, grabbed a hotel room right next to the race to make it more comfortable for my family, and headed to packet pickup.
Race Morning
I woke up at 4:30 AM, ate a light breakfast, drank some coffee, and got ready. I arrived just before transition opened and managed to snag a great spot near the front. After the team picture, I suited up in my wetsuit and walked to the swim start.
The water felt great—comfortable temperature—and for once, my usual open water anxiety wasn’t kicking in. I swam about 100 yards to warm up and felt confident.
Then the wait began. And kept going. Finally, they announced the swim was canceled because the ambulance hadn’t arrived yet. Instead, we’d start with a short beach run. A little chaotic, but okay.
The Bike Leg
After the beach run, I headed back to transition. I had worn thermal booties for the swim (prioritizing comfort), but they made getting out of my wetsuit a real struggle. I quickly adapted, sat down, and got them off. It cost a few seconds, but my T1 time was still a solid 90 seconds.
Out on the bike, I passed a few athletes early on. A couple of miles in, a guy on a road bike sat in my draft. Normally, I wouldn’t care, but we were near the front—it’s competitive up there. I asked if he planned to pass, and he said, “No, this pace is good.” I could hear he was out of breath while I was just cruising at tempo.
So, I dropped the hammer, opened a gap, and never saw him again.
I chased down a few more riders and eventually turned onto 5th Street—straight into a stiff headwind. That was the only part of the bike that really felt tough. The rest was smooth, and I was able to stay aero almost the entire time. My average power was low (thanks to a strong tailwind on Gonzales), and the headwind hurt my speed, but I felt strong overall.
I made the final turn onto Spinnaker, where the pavement smooths out, and hammered it to the dismount. It was awesome hearing my team cheer me in. I nailed the dismount and ran into T2.
The Run
Knowing I was near the front, I rushed out of T2—so fast I forgot both my race bib and gel. That turned out to be a blessing: I had already taken in 300 calories of Tailwind on the bike, which was more than I’d trained with. I started to feel it during the run.
I left transition at about a 6:30/mile pace, realized that wasn’t sustainable, and settled into a 7:15/mile rhythm. At the first aid station, I grabbed a water cup mid-stride, surprising the volunteer—most of it splashed on her, sorry!
About halfway through, the Tailwind caught up with me and I threw up a little. Some of the 5K runners looked shocked, but I didn’t slow down at all and actually felt better afterward. That is, until around mile two when I felt a familiar cramp in the upper right part of my ribcage. I slowed to an 8:00/mile pace for about five minutes, which felt like an eternity.
On the way back, I passed the same aid station—the volunteer had clearly gotten some practice by then and nailed the handoff. I took a small sip of water, the cramp subsided, and I was able to pick up the pace for the final stretch.
The Finish
I crossed the line in 7th place overall—until the results were adjusted and I ended up in 9th for reasons still unclear to me. But honestly? I don’t care.
Yes, Cal Tri has its issues, and yes, there are things to complain about if you’re focused on competition. But I just keep thinking about how much fun I had out there.
I raced hard. I handled challenges. I gave it everything I had. A couple of years ago, finishing in the top 10 would have been a dream. Even if I was actually 9th, I’m proud of the work I put in and how far I’ve come.
I had fun—and I’ll be back for more.
It Takes a Team
I couldn’t have performed this well without the support of some really important people.
First, thank you to my family—especially my wife—for encouraging me to race even when things got tough. Your support means everything.
Huge thanks to my coach for guiding me through training and helping me hit the start line in top form. The work we’ve done together really paid off.
And to my team—thank you for the cheers, the pre-race laughs, and the constant motivation. Racing with you all in my corner makes every finish line that much sweeter.
Here’s to more starting lines, stronger finishes, and everything in between!
Good job Kev. Glad you were able to compete again. I laughed at you writing that your position didn’t matter, then mentioning it several more times. It always matters. We put forth the best race we can that day, and want to be recognized correctly for that effort.