“Better never to begin; if begun, better to finish.” says a Taoist teaching.  So it goes, completing the first two extremely challenging days comprised of 6.2 miles of swimming and 260 miles of cycling was not enough to be happy about.  We needed to put each of those days behind us as soon as they ended and get ready to slay the last dragon: Day 3′s double marathon (52.4mi).

But as I’ve said in previous postings, I am not a natural distance runner.  In fact, Distance Running and I generally have had a tough relationship.  Coming into Ultraman, I figured that today naturally would be my biggest physical challenge since my longest journey with Distance Running has only been 26.2mi–half as far as we’d need to go today.  Plus, my relationship with Distance Running would have to be on my terms if an Ultraman finish was going to be a reality. I knew I would have to fight back hard, and win, to earn Distance Running’s respect.

Day 3 started out with mild temperatures.  The terrain consisted of smooth concrete paved over very soft rolling hills and flats, and then became much more undulating as the miles built.  At approximately 22 miles, the course transitioned to a gravel logging road that cut through British Columbian countryside so beautiful you would think God would choose this as His primary residence.  This part of the course was rocky, sometimes with sandy and washboard-like terrain.  It also was home to climbs and decents up mountainsides so steep basically any part of your lower body and core would get a rude awakening if they’ve been asleep on the job.

Everything seemed to start off well, I felt surprisingly good and was running along chatting it up with a few inspiring people in multi-Ultraman finishers Todd Crandell and Darwin Holt.  Time was rolling by and the first several miles were clicking off.  Then Todd and Darwin quickened their pace a bit and I fell off the wagon around 5 miles into the run.  Darwin assured me that my form was looking great, so I kept running along with what I felt to be good rhythm and pace.  Around 11 miles, people were passing me even though I felt like I hadn’t changed my pace.  By mile 14, my crew vehicle stopped and Paul, my good friend and trusted crew member, got out and was in his running gear.  I knew I must be looking tired.  Paul’s longest run to date was 26.2 miles so I figured there was no way he could pull 38-plus miles to carry me all the way in!  The little green monsters of doubt were starting to raise their ugly heads; and in our sandbox, Distance Running was once again not playing nice in the sandbox.  What was I going to do?  I wasn’t going to have anyone to pace me when I needed it most.  I just kept running.

We ran along and eked-out the miles and next thing I knew we were deep into the 30s but still a long way to go.  The temperature was once again back up into the high 90s and it was taking its toll on me.  But we kept our focus on the pristine scenery of the countryside while we shared stories.  We were forming a bond of respect we may very well carry on for the rest of our lives for reasons which follow.  We were beginning to feel relatively close to the finish but time was not on our side.  With about 40 miles complete, I was averaging roughly 13:45min/mi pace (including stops/walks) which was about as high as you can get and still make it before the 12hr cutoff time.  Remember that this is my first time running over 26.2mi so I had to watch my pace and also save energy to greatly increase that pace towards the end if I needed to do so.  The reality of a finish was drawing closer but there was still a lot of work left to do before that becomes reality.

And I was hurting.  With 10k remaining and going down a steep downhill, Paul warned me that I was doomed if I stop to walk or take a break.  I was trailing Paul by about 15ft and he suddenly turns around casually running backwards as if he just started running on fresh legs and yells, “You have 10k remaining and this is going to be the hardest, most painful 10k of your life.  You can hate me now and thank me later.  But if you want this you cannot stop for anything now.  I know you can do it; I believe in you.”

I’m trying my best but I’m starting to feel like I’m going to explode from the heat; the previous two days of work seemed to be catching up to me.  I was once again hearing the voices of doubt and was trying to just let them go.  I felt like I  on the brink of entering a “zone,” but could I maintain a 9+min/mi pace for 5 more miles after already running over 47?  The bad guys were trying to tell me I couldn’t.  They were saying I had just missed the cutoff and better luck next year.  Paul yelled again, “HOW BAD DO YOU WANT IT, JAY?  HOW BAD DO YOU WANT TO BE AN ULTRAMAN?  I AM GOING TO BE LIVID IF I RAN ALL THIS WAY FOR NOTHING!  I WANT TO TELL MY FRIENDS I RAN 39 MILES WITH AN ULTRAMAN!”  Those bad voices subsided for a bit.  I could now hear the good voices in my head.  I visualized hearing people cheer as I come in raising the E2C flag above my head at the finish line.  I saw myself tell this very story to children at pediatric cancer hospitals about giving all your effort despite the odds and knowing that it give them hope that they can also overcome.  I visualized reading stories people wrote to us about their own accounts of doing something they were scared to do and their ensuing success. I believed I could do this.

This battle between Distance Running and I went back and forth but I was winning.  This is the mean game Distance Running plays when it knows I want something but doesn’t want to share.  Suddenly, with about 4mi left I had to stop to pee.  I told Paul I was going to do this right as I started and even though this would only add 20 seconds or so to my time, when I looked up at him, I was on the receiving end of a death stare.  We communicated without saying a word and it went something like this:

Paul — “Didn’t you hear me the first time?  I said if you stop for anything you probably won’t make it and if you do it again you will get a beat down courtesy of me.”

Jay: “Got it. It’s not happening again.”

And it didn’t.  One mile later I looked down and saw my right shoelace untied.  Well, too bad…I hope my shoe doesn’t fall off and I suddenly have to run barefoot because I don’t have time to tie it.  I realize this seems strange but I felt like my shoe was naturally snug enough to get by.  Plus, I don’t know how much time I have left and I didn’t come this far to miss being an official finisher by mere seconds or a minute or two.  I want this “victory” for the foundation and for what we represent, not for me.

Paul knows how much time I have and the pace I’m on but he’s not telling me because I don’t want to know.  I’m running with all heart right now.  I am running to fulfill the mission of E2C – my only purpose right now.  “Oh no,” I’m thinking.  I look down and the other shoe is now untied.  How much further??  I heard a false “another mile ahead” a couple times.  Paul was pushing a hard pace and I was “red-lining” it and couldn’t keep this up for much longer.  He turned around and I heard him yell, “I WANT TO SEE YOUR TOENAILS HANGING OUT, JAY.  LEAVE NOTHING IN THE TANK! FINISH WHAT YOU CAME TO DO.”  I didn’t know if Paul was playing a sick joke on me or if he was serious, so I just took it as serious to limit my risk of missing the cutoff.  The last thing I wanted to do was come up seconds or a couple minutes short.  I felt like I was turning into a Kenyan but unfortunately without that floating-on-air stride sort of look.

I was almost there.  I could see people now.  I turned the corner and other finishers and crew team members were there to cheer me in before the 12 hours expires.  I was in a weird state.  I couldn’t hear anything; I was just running straight ahead to the finish line.  I got there holding our E2C flag above my head and all I heard was someone say, “A few more steps!”  Apparently I wasn’t quite across the finish line yet.  I took a few more steps and I literally passed out and fell to the ground.  I went unconscious for probably 30 seconds and woke up but couldn’t say anything.  I couldn’t remember people’s names at first, even my crew members.  It was scary.  I could feel my body but I couldn’t move.  I was spent.

A few minutes later, I came to my senses and was reintroduced to my crew and other athletes and felt like I was back to normal again.  I also learned that by beating the cutoff time by 3 minutes and 25 seconds that I earned a spot among the very few all time finishers who attempt Ultraman (I believe less than 400 people in the world have finished an Ultraman).

This day was a great one.  One in which I realized the true meaning of Vince Lombardi’s quote: “I firmly believe that any man’s finest hour, the greatest fulfillment of all that he holds dear, is the moment when he has worked his heart out in a good cause and lies exhausted on the field of battle–victorious.”  If you’d like to see for yourself check this out. Apparently somebody caught the finish on camera and uploaded it to YouTube.

httpvh://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I3RbNTItUP4 

Further, a friend sent me a post from an endurance athletics forum regarding Ultraman Canada and one person had this to say regarding my finish:

“That drop and roll was not for style points.  At that point I’m pretty sure Jason didn’t know where he was.  When we last saw him at around mile 13 he was hurting and I would have bet big that he would not make it, but his team and his heart got him there.  Very impressive.” 

Yes, this person was absolutely correct: it was all team and heart that got the job done.  Without my crew, Paul Zirlin and Bob Shanks, I doubt I would have made the cutoff in time.  Without our supporters and those who offered motivation along the way, it would have been much more difficult.  Nobody makes it without their crew, nobody makes it without a higher purpose.  It’s as simple as that.  But come on, “bet big that he wouldn’t make it!?”  I wasn’t going to let that happen, my friend; I’m doing these events with a burning fire from within and with a limitless vision. :)

No Limits, Jason Sissel

Day 2 of Ultraman Canada was a very challenging 170 mile bike over flats, steep and/or long climbs in the Canadian Cascades, then one very long section of very windy flats, followed by a steady 20 mile climb which was an out and back so you get to go downhill to bring it in to the finish line.

The day started off an hour earlier than normal (6am) due to the extreme heat we are getting up here.  As I said in my last post, yesterday was around 104 degrees most of the day which is obviously not too conducive for intense endurance athletics!  Assuming my body bounced back from its issues yesterday, my plan was to go out strong and get as many miles in before the temperatures starting hitting 100 degrees and from there just ride a comfortable pace and finish strong.

I felt great from the start and my legs felt normal and as powerful as normal.  But as you can probably imagine, 170 miles is a long way to bike and things can quickly change.  I felt like I was rocking along pretty well and had a good climb up the first climb known as “The Wall” at about mile 65.  The Wall is about a mile long and features an elevation gain of roughly 1,600ft.  At this point, the temp was starting to heat up and after I climbed The Wall, I just didn’t quite feel the same.  I wasn’t hitting on all cylinders like I was the previous 65 miles.  But I kept going and chalked it up as my mid-ride lull I usually get into.

But after getting through some other tough climbs and enduring the pain I was feeling, we hit a long flat that tortured riders with strong headwinds of probably 20mph.  Although it wasn’t as hot as yesterday (it was “only” 97 today), I still just didn’t feel like I had much left in the energy tank.  I quickly realized that I had to build on yesterday’s lesson and just finding a way to make it happen.  So I decided to take a quick break for some air conditioning and food in our crew vehicle at around mile 120.  As I expressed my concern with how my body was feeling and how exhausted from the heat I was to my crew member, Paul, he tried to assure me that I had done well enough up to this point that we could make it if we just keep going at light but respectable pace.  I told him, “I feel like I’ve reached the walls of my soul.” and he looked at me quizzically before I continued, “So let’s just go push those walls outward.”  We shared a laugh and I took off and finished strong, again, with plenty of time to spare.

One thing I am finding that I love about Ultraman is that it’s so unbelivably long that it really tests the limits of your soul.  You must find a way to overcome or you won’t.  These lessons can also easily be applied to daily life which is another reason I love this type of event.

Here’s a preview of Day 3: This stage is a double marathon or, a 52.4 mile run.  Sound fun?  I am not a runner so I will again have to will my way through this stage of the event.  I have never run farther than a full marathon of 26.2 miles, so this definitely make for an interesting experience.  The course is quite hilly and about half of the run is on a gravel road with crowns and sloped angles which presents various challenges.  Upon completion tomorrow, I look forward to writing to you about the experience.

Day 1 of Ultraman Canada consisted of a 6.2 mile swim and then 90 miles of the bike leg.  This stage was inarguably the hardest physical thing I’ve done.  The heat is brutal up here and being from Chicago where it has barely cracked 90 degrees this summer, I just wasn’t acclimated to the heat.  Though my body generally adapts quickly, in retrospect, I probably should have sat in a sauna for an hour or two per day for a week or two!

The swim started out with ideal conditions: warm, glass-like water and 70 degrees air temp at start time.  I figured I’d only take about 3:30:00 to 3:45:00 to finish the swim but it ended up taking me about 4:15:00.  I knew after about 4 miles to the swim that I underbudgeted how much nutrition I would need and with heat this intense it could easily cause me problems later.  On top of that, the temperature was rising quickly and was over 90 by 9:30am.  Given that we were all in wesuits, our bodies were sweating more than normal and therefore require even more caloric intake.  After the swim, at the time, I was pleased with how it went for the most part but in retrospect, I’m disappointed in myself that I didn’t have a better plan for nutrition that my crew team paddler, Bob, kept in his kayak.  I consumed about 1,000 calories and probably should have consumed about 2,000 given how hot it was.  But I must deal…

On to the bike:  When I got out of the water it was scorching hot with clear, sunny blue skies.  And unfortunately, the course didn’t provide any shade.  I felt weak right from the start but often times when you feel like this, you can just work through it and quickly snap out of it.  But after 10 miles…nothing.  20 miles…nothing.  40 miles…I’m now seriously concerned that I won’t even make the 12hr cutoff time if I can’t figure out a way to muster up a few extra miles per hour to add to my unacceptable pace.  The temp finally leveled out at 104 degrees after peaking at 106 which means, on the blacktop it was probably at least 110-115.  To complicate matters, I had several vomiting episodes on my bike.  I was embarrased.  I felt like if I couldn’t finish in the allotted time and got a DNF (did not finish) I’d be letting down E2C supporters and those who have believed in me and my cause.  I was now furious.  My crew asked me if I wanted to throw in the towel.  I said, “No, we are going to get this done.  Let’s roll.” and we took off and started hitting the tough climbs on the course.  I began re-assessing everything I believed in, especially my personal philosophy that each of us have no limits to what we can do in life.  It was being put to the test right here, right now; and this was supposed to be the “easy” day of the three.  Time to step up and dig deep, very deep and earn a new level of mental toughness.

I started by looking at my jersey.  I had a promotion recently where all donors could have their message printed on the jersey I wore for the cycling days.  The donors mostly consisted of friends who believe in me and people who find what I’m doing to be inspirational.  Certain people had messages I thought to be quite touching in honor of loved ones who passed away from cancer.  I wasn’t going to let them down by having to go back to them saying I just wasn’t cut out for the challenge.  And I wasn’t going to let down the kids we’re ultimately doing this for.  That was all I could think about and I found a reignited fire inside and just put my head down and started hammering.  My crew, Paul and Bob, started putting ice cold towels around my neck at regular intervals.  They were already doing a great job but I think when they saw me pull through some of the weakest, most demeaning moments I’ve had as an athlete, they kicked it up several notches as well.  They became my biggest fans which gave me even more energy.  We finished with about 30 minutes to spare and we’re moving to Day 2′s 170mi bike leg tomorrow, which is regarded as the hardest day of the three.

So with that, here is a preview of Day 2.  This stage is a 170 mile bike featuring flats for the first 60 miles and then working up into the Canadian Cascade Mountain Range and then into more flats that are generally quite windy.  After roughly 60 miles we will begin an extremely steep climb in the Canadian Cascades called “The Wall.”  This climb is about a mile long and the elevation gain is about 1,600ft so it is quite steep.  My goal for tomorrow will be to rebound from today.  I plan to use the cool morning temperatures to ride a bit harder, but not too hard, in the beginning in order to cover as much ground as possible before the heat gets intense and the winds start picking up.  I plan to bounce back strong from yesterday’s difficult experience and get the job done, but I fully expect the days ahead to continue to reveal a new level of character and mental toughness in my life.

Lastly, thank you very much to those of you who have been so interested in hearing about this cause.  It’s inspiring to me to read the great feedback we’re getting!

No Limits, Jay