Forever Headwinds: An Ironman Dedication
Pre Race
My Mena
I remember the day I said goodbye. I held her hand, sitting next to her bedside while Mom was lying next to her on the bed. The surgeon gave us the time to say goodbye before they would take her off the ECMO machine, which at the moment was keeping her barely alive. They did all they could do, but the infection had spread too quickly, and her body could no longer fight. There are no words to describe the moment. There are no experiences that can prepare you for this. We would be forever changed.
Philomena “Mena” had passed away suddenly on August 30th, 2023, due to sepsis. She was 5 ½ years old and had just started Kindergarten. She was born with a rare chromosome disorder, and though she had health challenges and needed assistance, she was becoming a big girl and becoming more independent each and every day. She could make even the hardest days easy, just by being around her. Her light and energy were and still is the most beautiful that I’ve ever seen in my life. She filled our home with laughter and happiness, and left a hole in our family’s heart when she left us.
I decided shortly after she passed that I would race Ironman Wisconsin for her. To be able to share with my two boys (at the time 8 and 11) that you can do hard things because it can’t be any harder than living life without her.
IM Training
I started training two weeks after Mena had passed. There was a lot to process at that time, and keeping me grounded was doing my daily mile. It has been my saving grace through this entire nightmare. I’ve been running at least one mile per day, every day since August 12th, 2022. There were many times that I could have or should have stopped, but I haven’t. The consistency has been positive in many ways, one being, it’s a time I get to think, pray, and talk to Mena.
I’m not sure what day will be the last, but I will keep it going for as long as I can.
But two weeks after Mena passed is when I started training for IMWI. I did my first half marathon a few weeks later. It had been over 15 years since I raced that distance, and I remember how sore my legs were after I finished. I recall thinking to myself, I’ve got a long way to go to get to Ironman shape.
Not having done an Ironman since racing in remembrance/honor of my dad 15 years ago- a lot has changed. I remember the sacrifice involved, especially with those close to you whose weekends are shortened due to training. I remember the pain and suffering of the body and mind while doing the distance. But it’s the only thing I know how to do and so I chose IMWI due to the closeness in date to Mena’s death anniversary, August 30th, 2023. IMWI would be on 9-8-24.
I would go on to complete 5 races before IMWI. One open water swim race, a sprint triathlon, two half marathons, and one half-ironman race in Des Moines. Each one of these races helped me improve and prepare for Madison. Each one was for Mena.
Race Day
Morning Prep
The day started early, up at 4 am, getting breakfast/nutrition in, and of course doing what you can to go #2. Luckily for me, it’s been like clockwork for years. There were a few things that I needed to get done before I would be jumping into Lake Monona.
I had to bring both my bike and run special needs bag out where the finish line would begin up the street. I would also have to go back to where I dropped off my bike gear bag to add my hydration pack, which I would still need to fill.
Followed by a short warmup on the swimming trainer bands to get the arms loose. I created a list and one by one started checking things off until the only thing left was to head over to the swim and check the goggles so no water would leak in.
Nerves and excitement filled the air once we made it out of the hotel and right out to the area of the swim start.
One of the perks of staying on the same property as the race is that you can just go down the elevator with your wetsuit on. There were 2 others on the elevator with us on our way down.
As we walked towards the start of the swim, I initially was thinking of finding the acclimation zone to get in the water and get a good fit on the googles. However, an over-the-air announcement came on saying there would be only 10 mins left for those who wanted to get acclimated. I first rushed forward, looking to see how far away I was from that place, and in doing so, was ahead of my family, who were caught in the crowd and unsure whether to follow me or not. I stopped, paused, and reflected that being with my family and thanking them and loving them before the race is where I’d rather be. So, I quickly backtracked and found Jess and the boys where I would give them all my hugs and kisses and tell them how much I love them and that I’m ready to tri for Mena.
The Swim
I gave the family all my love and started walking towards the carousel, looking for the anticipated time that I would want to be positioned for the swim. Ironman races now have staggered starts, releasing a few swimmers at a time with a short wait in between (5 sec). This is much different than 15 years ago in IMFL, where once the cannon goes off, everyone walks to the water and starts all at the same time. Definitely an experience that lives in my memory of how to remain calm. The staggered start gave me enough time to make sure my goggles were as sealed as tightly as possible.
I found the guide holding the sign that was for 1:30-1:40, and said this is good enough. I had been tracking 80 minutes during my training and knew I wanted to relax on the swim and take it easy. So 1:30-1:40 was the place for me. Like I said, I was fidgeting with my googles non-stop, making sure it was on correctly and on tight. The sprint triathlon race a few weeks back created a swim nightmare for me with water leaking in and me trying to adjust things in the water while swimming at the same time. I didn’t want that experience again for the next hour or so. Fortunately, I would have no problems with water leaking into my goggles or into my ear. In fact, this swim was probably my best yet. I felt great the entire time, swimming from a physical standpoint. I was sighting spot on- only once did I catch myself swimming more to the inside, which made me have to course correct slightly. I got caught following another swimmer who veered inside. I wasn’t the only one either- there were a couple more who had done the same thing, which we all were now steering back towards the next buoy, which needed to be to your right. I would be lying if I told you the swim was easy. There are people all around you, some are swimming faster and some slower, whom you have to get around. Some are also swimming perpendicular to you, trying to get to the kayak or buoys because they need help immediately.
On the second loop of the swim, that actually happened. As I was sighting and swimming towards the next buoy, here comes from the left a swimmer who is swimming right through on-going traffic, trying to reach the buoy that was on the inside. I was able to avoid this swimmer, and luckily, I didn’t experience any body contact that was overly aggressive throughout the swim.
For the entirety of the swim, I would try to be as zen as possible, being very mindful of my heart rate and focusing on my arm cadence. I started praying the rosary but couldn’t keep count of where I was, I probably did 2-3x the number of Hail Mary’s before moving on to the next Our Father. I thought of Mena a lot in the water. Thinking of memories and my regular talks to her, saying how much I love her, how I miss her so much, and that I am sorry.
I finished the swim in 1:24, and the transition to the bike up the helix was simply awesome. Fans lined the swim exit, and just shortly after having my wetsuit ripped off me, I quickly walked up the helix, smiling at all those who were cheering me and others around me on.
I got my first view of the family as I heard them cheer with their Mena signs in hand. It was great seeing them, and off I went into the conference center room where I would get my biking gear ready to go. Their love and support fueled me as I headed to T1, ready to tackle the bike.
The water temperature was 70 degrees, the air temperature was around 48. The day earlier for the half-iron race, it was even colder and windier, which made me decide to put on arm warmers and cycling gloves, which I purchased just the day before at the local bike shop.
I wanted to make sure I was dry before heading out, so I took a bit longer during T1 than I had hoped I would. Nonetheless, I gathered everything and headed out to grab my bike, ready to tackle one of the hardest rides I’ve done in my life.
Finishing swim time: 1:24
The Bike
I knew beforehand the difficulty of this bike course. The elevation gains from those who have ridden the course have it clocked in at 6K+ compared to what it says on the IM website, which has it in the 4K feet of elevation gain. Yeah right 4K. I could not confirm this 6K myself because I ended up leaving my bike computer at home! There’s always something missing. It didn’t stress me out since I knew I was going to have to do two loops and wanted to take the first loop easy to make sure I had legs left for the other loop and the marathon.
It started off chilly, but it never did get as cold as I thought it would. I would later pay the price for the arm warmers as they created terrible chafing for me right below my armpits. I knew the rule of nothing new for race day, and here I am adding these arm warmers. I would feel the pain from the chafing months after the race.
The first 20 miles of the bike ride were pretty relaxed. I found another biker who was at about the pace I was comfortable with- he was passing people and moving quickly but not too quickly. No bike computer, so no idea how many watts I was pushing or how fast I was going. My watch somewhat kept track, but it was later inaccurate with its recording when I reviewed post-race data. But those first 20 miles felt great. My nutrition plan was to take sips of my hydration bag every 15 mins (4x/hr) as well as consume a gel every hr which I was able to squeeze 5 into a plastic gel flask ahead of time because there is nothing worse than trying to tear and squeeze a gel packet while riding a bike at least for me. The flask was convenient and easy for me to get to and read on the side with pre-marked sharpie markings of where each gel level I’m at. Nutrition and hydration, I felt, were good up until I hit mile 100- more on that in a bit. The support on the bike from volunteers and those cheering us on was incredible. There were many times during the bike I was asked about what the “AAHH” meant on the back of my jersey. Going up one of the climbs, a car had pulled up beside me and started screaming AAHH. I told them that it was what Mena called me since she couldn’t pronounce dad and that I was racing in honor and memory of her. I would later see them on the run course, and their cheers were even louder as I passed them by. They, like many others whom I met on the course, were awesome and a testament to the amazing support from spectators at Ironman races.
The hills along this course were amazing. What must go up, must also go down. There were times going downhill, I could have sworn I had to be doing 50+ mph on the bike. The only thing for me to do to not think of the risk involved if I were to have fallen was for me to shout out woohooo as I zipped down the road. The rolling hills made you constantly aware of what gear you were in. If you hesitated or didn’t plan ahead, you would feel it. It was my first lesson that I took away- I needed to be present and aware of the terrain to plan accordingly. On the bike course, there is a name they call these 3 back to back to back climbs you face- the 3 sisters. The first sister, caught me by surprise, where I was still on my big ring, where I should have taken it much easier to save my legs for the next two sisters that were just ahead. These 3 sisters, or 3 b*****s from what they are called, are no joke. Especially where they are positioned at the end of the loop both times. Getting up those sisters was challenging the first time around and made me think about them the entire time I was on the second loop.
I tried to remain relaxed and knew I was going to get my special needs bag around the midway point, which is where I would take a quick break to recalibrate and use the bathroom. I ended up taking a break from the bike a couple of times to use the portapotty. I heard through a retired pro triathlete that if you don’t pee at least 2x during an IM, you will never run to your potential. I’m far from being a pro triathlete, but it was in my game plan to use the bathroom within the 50-70 mile range. The next time I used the portapotty would be the last time I would feel good on the bike. Around mile 100, after getting through the 3 sisters the second time, I bonked.
A fellow rider and I chatted shortly before the last 3rd sister- he was reminding me that many people forget about the portion of the race after the loops, which people refer to as “the stick,” as in the stick of the lollipop formation of what the bike course looks like. The stick or Whalen Road is not flat one bit. It is an up-and-down rollercoaster that can deplete you since you just had to get through climbing the 3 sisters. The wind at the time I was on the stick was defeating. Headwinds, crosswinds, every which way wind had me cooked on Whalen Road.
I saw another biker pull off to the side of the road, leaning over his bike, exhausted. I felt like that image would be a precursor to what lay ahead for me, as I felt no more energy was left in me. With each pedal stroke down, I would feel pain and numbness in both my feet. Though my heart rate was still in my preferred target zone, I had no power left. I initially was tracking 6.5 hours to complete the bike, which I trained for 6 hours at the most during the peak of my training. But that final 12 miles took everything for me to finish. The days leading up to the race, I taped to my left aero bar a photo of Mena. It would come as my way of pushing through during the hard parts of the bike ride. I spent a lot of time thinking of Mena on the bike as well as talking to her. I spoke to her a lot during those final 12 miles. I honestly didn’t know if I was going to make it. I hit the wall. What pulled me through was seeing her smile in that photo on my aero bar, knowing how much I missed her and that I would finish this race for her. I finally rode back up the helix, and there was my family with their Mena signs screaming and cheering me on. I must have looked so white when Jess saw me, which, being Filipino, is not a good look on me. She said immediately she knew I was not in the same way as I came in from the swim.
I remember letting them know that I was struggling, and the bike might have done me over. I headed into T2, which was in the conference center. When I got my bag and sat down at the first seat I saw. I was wiped out. The guy next to me saw how I was and shared with me that what I was experiencing was my body wanting to chew on something. He first asked me if I took in enough carbs/gels, and I said yeah- that’s when he pointed out the action of chewing and said to walk initially and grab some chips/pretzels at the aid stations and to just munch on them. Eventually, he said you will feel better and will get your legs/power back.
He was right, and I did see him throughout the run course, and I remember him telling me, “See, I told you”. But before that, just getting out of transition was tough. I finally got my bike gear off and my running shoes on, and one more quick stop to use the bathroom before running the marathon.
The family was waiting for me outside of transition, cheering and screaming for me. I shared once again with Jess that the bike got me and that I would walk first to see if I could get my legs back. I was glad to be off the bike, especially after being on it for 7 hours.
Finishing bike time: 7:04
The Run
The run started off rough. My legs were still shaky, and the only thing I was thinking of was finding some chips! Just as I was leaving through the race start, volunteers were asking if I needed any water. One took a shot and started talking to me in Tagalog- I confirmed I was Filipino and just smiled. However, there was a lady who had a small bag of Cheetos. I asked her where I could find something like that- she said that it was hers and that it was mine now. I can’t say enough good things about the volunteers who helped with this race. Not only were they everywhere, but they were so kind and so helpful.
I walked for about a mile, receiving encouragement from other racers as I trudged along. My legs started to come back, and I started to run before entering Camp Randall Stadium. What an awesome experience that was to run around the field not just once but twice! I got to run that field during the day and with lights on at night.
I can’t quite remember when Dave and I started running together or how that came about, but once we connected, we were each other’s companions for the rest of the run. He was a godsend; we both agreed that the time went by faster and more easily with someone running alongside. We talked about family, the race, our training, pretty much everything to keep our minds from wandering off on the pain and suffering we were experiencing.
As the end of the first loop drew near, both Dave and I walked up State St. and saw our families cheering us on. We took a few moments with them to share how we were doing and that we were in good spirits with only 13 more miles to go! The Mena signs were awesome, and seeing her face made me dig deeper inside. A final hug and kiss to the family before letting them know I’d be back soon.
Dave and I recollected our thoughts and spent some time forecasting what was still ahead for us. We both agreed that getting through the lakeshore path would be tough. The city of Madison itself is a beautiful city. The University of Wisconsin campus is hugged by Lake Mendota, and across the other side, where the capital is where Lake Monona sits. I was truly impressed by the UW campus. The lakeshore path was a stretch of about 3-4 miles on the course that, during the daylight, you could see Lake Mendota past the brush and trees on a gravel path. The path was wide enough to accommodate us racers running back and forth, as well as all the other pedestrians/students walking/jogging on the path. However, at night, it was a different story. There were times when you couldn’t see anything since it was so dark out there. Neither Dave nor I brought any head lamps (I did bring it, but my ego told me before the race started, I would be done by 12-13 hours-boy was I wrong) which made for sighting the ground impossible and to make things even more challenging- there were even bikes out on the path with no lights. I think a couple of times, Dave almost got run over!
Along that path, there was an aid station that was an oasis for both of us. As nightfall came, the temperature started to get cooler. We had both been going on now for more than 12 hours, and our strategy of walking hills and aid stations was still working. As we approached this particular aid station out on the path, we heard a glorious announcement, “hot chicken broth.” Man, oh man- immediately both Dave and I said yes, please! I don’t know how many cups Dave threw down, but I had 2, and it was the best feeling drinking down that warm/hot broth. We met a volunteer there whose name was also Dave, and shared some laughs and smiles as we continued to move forward.
We were getting close now- the second run through Camp Randall- I can remember thinking to myself- I’m tired. I think I even mentioned it to Dave, and he said the same; however, we kept running. If it weren’t for Dave, I would have walked a lot more. We were headed down the home stretch and looking at the mile marker signs- we noticed early on that they weren’t tracking the same as what our watches were saying. We believed the markers were off by a mile, and we ran closer to 27 miles. I recall a sign from a spectator on the bike course that read: “Because 141 miles would be crazy”. Well, it was crazy, alright- looking back, it was another precursor forecasting what was ahead. It didn’t matter to Dave or me what mile we were at, we just knew that we were close and that once we hit the 10K and 5K point, we would be closer to seeing our families and the finish line.
As we got to State St. and the crowds cheering had panned out, I turned towards Dave and said, “I want to be the first one to congratulate you on becoming an Ironman.” I shook his hand and told him- Well deserved my man, well deserved!
Now looking at the capital building in front, I see my Filipino friend who I just met prior to the race. He and his friend drove from Des Moines and this year was going to be his redemption year. He was here in 2022 with the worst weather in history for the course and DNF’d along with many others. I knew there had to be something wrong because I didn’t see him at all throughout the bike ride or run. I would later find out he had SIPE (swim induced pulmonary edema) which he still finished the swim on time but was not able to continue after the first loop of the bike. He cheered and high-fived me as we got even closer to hearing the cheers and lights from the finish line. Nate will be back for redemption, and I will be sure that I am at the finish line to celebrate that victory with him.
As Dave and I got closer, I let Dave know that I’ll just be right behind him and for him to go claim his victory and hear those famous words of “You Are An Ironman”. In the end, I found out that I actually finished before him as he stopped to hug family as I stepped onto the red carpet towards the finish line, he was courteous enough to let me finish ahead of him.
I was already carrying in my right hand two photos that had been with me throughout the run. A photo of my 3 kids and a photo of me and Mena. I looked at the photo of me and Mena and was instantly filled with emotions. How much I love her, how much I missed her.
Two years ago, I could barely walk without limping. Torn soft tissues on both knees and healed Achilles tendon tear. Mena would prefer to be carried, and as she got bigger, it was getting harder and harder for me to do so. But here I am just steps away from finishing an Ironman.
Getting to the finish line, I heard the announcer call my name and share what I had written down as to why I was doing this race. He announced for all to hear that it was in memory and honor of my daughter, who had passed away just a year ago. I closed my eyes as I walked through the finish line, thinking of my baby girl, my daughter, my now angel. I became overwhelmed with emotions as tears ran down my face. Jess, Taj, Van, and their Mena signs were waiting for me shortly after I finished, and we all embraced and cried under the lights in Madison.
Finishing Run Time: 5:39
Finishing IM Time: 14:35
What I learned
That past year has been the hardest physically and mentally of my life. There has been no other year in my 44 years of existence that has been so difficult to go through. Losing Mena devastated our family and broke my heart. The pain and grief of losing a child is truly unimaginable. I turned to training as an outlet. It allows me to think of her and talk to her every day.
As I reflect on this race and what it means to me, it points me to one important lesson that I have learned. You don’t have to do it alone. As I mentioned earlier, having Dave as my run buddy for most of the run was a godsend. Sure, I could have done the run on my own, but it would not have been easier as it was having Dave by my side. Throughout this past year, it has been difficult for those around me to engage with me and me with them. How does one talk to someone who has just lost their daughter, their whole world? Perhaps this was a sign for me that I don’t need to go through this life without Mena alone. It doesn’t get any easier, that I can tell you and being isolated and alone in your feelings seems to be what I default to.
Just like with IM, taking one step/pedal/swim stroke at a time- I’ve been doing since August 30th, 2023. Taking one day, week, month, and now year at a time. The main lesson I learned is that I don’t have to do it alone. It’s going to be hard; it doesn’t get any easier navigating life without her. But I don’t have to figure it out right away, and I don’t have to go at it alone.
What’s next?
A question that I’ve been asked since finishing is what’s the next race? Since IMWI, I’ve raced three half marathons to finish out 2024. My one mile a day keeps me accountable and now in year 3 (month 32) of doing so- it helps me to stay focused on maintaining my fitness physically and mentally.
I feel closer to Mena when I race. Being present in the moment is difficult in general with obligations and having to be at certain places at certain times throughout the week. It’s even challenging while training, getting your workout done, so you can be somewhere to do something. But on race day, I have the entire time to be in my thoughts with Mena. So I plan to race as often as I can, so I can be closer to her.
For 2025, I plan on continuing to race in several triathlons (Sprint, Olympic, and 70.3 distances) and long-distance runs (13.1, 50K, and 55K), including an attempt to run a 50-mile trail race at the end of the year. I am slowly working towards my goal of running a 100-mile race in 2026. In doing so, I hope it brings awareness to the Phoundation and shares this story with others.
Team Bubbles
What I’m truly excited about is the creation of Team Bubbles for the Phoundation. Community is everything, and the people you surround yourself with matter. While the primary goal is to bring awareness to the Phoundation, it’s also about creating a space for people to stay active and find support from others who are moving forward for something greater than themselves. It’s super easy to become part of the team, and I’m hopeful to see it grow in the years to come.
Check out the page on the website!
