This Ironman Maryland 2021 race recap covers a year of setbacks, a late training surge, and the effort required to chase a sub-12 finish.

For many people, 2020 and 2021 were some of the most challenging and uncertain years of their lives. That was also true for me. Going into 2020, I felt excited and motivated to pursue a goal I had set in 2019: finishing a full Ironman. That meant 2.4 miles of swimming, 112 miles of biking, and a 26.2 mile run.

Setbacks Before the Start Line

2019 had different plans. In June, I became increasingly sick from an unknown illness. The symptoms worsened to the point where I could barely walk. Two weeks were spent on crutches, followed by three months of intensive physical therapy. Full activity and range of motion finally returned in late September.

Because of that recovery, 2020 was supposed to be my year. Like it was for many others, it was and it wasn’t.

There is still a lot to be grateful for from 2020. That year included completing my MBA, learning to bake bread, and renting my first Airstream. It also brought the support of many friends while I pursued my Ironman goal through a virtual event. The experience was meaningful and full of pride, even if it lacked the pomp and circumstance I had imagined.

Rebuilding Through 2020 and Early 2021

As 2021 began and vaccines started rolling out, I felt genuinely excited to enter a new training season with confidence. The year was starting strong. With Kari Stuart at the coaching helm and a solid base of fitness from previous seasons, things were looking good.

As the year went on, the ongoing pandemic combined with work stress and general burnout. Training results became inconsistent. The first half of the season went well, but momentum faded between June and July.

Accepting a new role added another layer of stress. The balance I thought I had found quickly slipped away. During those weeks, Allison and Kari were incredibly understanding and supportive. Their support helped carry me through some darker moments.

As my decision to leave a career of nearly a decade became clearer, something shifted. The passion for triathlon returned. At the beginning of August, training resumed full time. With close to 100% completion, I followed the plan exactly for the final six weeks of the season.

Late-Season Momentum

Expectations going into the race were unclear. Experience told me the fitness was there to finish, but the question remained whether a sub-12 at IM Maryland was realistic.

A last-minute splurge added confidence. I bought a used set of race wheels from my coach and hoped to gain about one mile per hour on the bike. Breaking 12 hours was possible without them, but those wheels truly carried me on race day.

Ironman Maryland is a fast course. My previous wheels were old, heavy, and likely poorly maintained. Between improved aerodynamics, fresh bearings, and lighter weight, the difference was immediate. I had never felt more like a well-oiled machine.

The bike leg was pure joy. Smiling all day, passing nearly half the field despite being a middle-of-the-pack swimmer felt unreal.

With the scene set, confidence was high heading into race day. Fitness felt fresh, but uncertainty remained. Limited testing due to the shortened training build left plenty unknown once the race began.

Swim: 1:23:19

The swim took place in the Choptank River, just off the Chesapeake Bay. The water was brackish, making this my first saltwater swim since childhood. The course was a simple square completed twice before returning to shore.

Water temperature reached 77.8 degrees. Because of the high presence of sea nettles, wetsuits were allowed up to 78 degrees. Wetsuit it was.

With no prior Ironman experience, one detail slipped through the cracks. Swim seeding was based on finishing time, not average pace. That mistake placed me in the 1:50 group, roughly 30 minutes slower than expected. Moving up helped, but the start was still crowded with much slower swimmers.

Athletes were advised to cover exposed skin with Vaseline to reduce jellyfish stings. The warning was clear: touching goggles after applying Vaseline would ruin visibility.

Sea nettles appeared almost immediately. They tended to collect in the shallows. Within the first ten minutes, I had been stung four or five times. The sensation was uncomfortable, similar to fiberglass splinters or acupuncture.

Not pleasant, and certainly not something I would seek out. But I was there. It was my race. So we moved on.

Settling In & Problem-Solving in the Water

As the swim progressed, it became clear that Vaseline had made its way onto the goggles. Visibility grew worse with each minute.

Around 1500 meters, a brief stop was unavoidable. Using the wetsuit zipper strap, the Vaseline was scraped off the lenses. The process took about a minute and a half, but visibility improved immediately for the rest of the swim.

Swimming has never been my strongest discipline, so the goal was simple: an 80-minute completion.

Coming out of the water, a quick glance at the watch showed 82 minutes. Right on target, if not for the pause to fix the goggles.

Transition 1

This was my first race using gear bags for transitions. Overall, it was a fine experience. The only real downside was stuffing wet clothes and equipment into a bag that trapped all the moisture.

A high-calorie Ensure and a salt tab went down quickly to catch up on calories and keep things moving.

Bike: 5:19:00

The bike course was fast and flat, with no real climbs to speak of. Goal effort was clear, and hydration and nutrition were dialed in for both the course and the temperature and humidity.

The plan was 1.5 bottles of water at every aid station, one salt tab every 30 minutes alternating caffeinated and un-caffeinated, and nutrition every 25 minutes. All SIS gels were preloaded into a water bottle, making it easy to take one squeeze when the timer went off without opening any packaging.

Every 1:15 feeding block included a Clif Bar for solid food and a bump in calorie intake.

This bike course was a favorite. Riding through the Blackwater Wildlife Refuge offered a beautiful mix of wetlands, farmland, and forests. Aside from a few slightly more populated sections, automotive traffic was minimal.

The biggest frustration came from athletes not staying right except to pass. Due to poor self-seeding and a middling swim, nearly four hours were spent riding in the center of the lane just to get around other athletes.

At the halfway point, average pace sat at 21.3 mph. The original goal of finishing under six hours quickly turned into a joke, as sneaking in around 5:20 became a real possibility.

Strong bike legs, a well-executed nutrition plan, and some help from directional wind carried the second loop. Average speed held at 21.1 mph, with a final bike split of 5:19.

The only lingering issue was slight tightness in the left ankle. Thankfully, it disappeared almost immediately after getting off the bike.

Transition 2

Specific instructions were given to slow things down in T2. Taking a moment to relax before starting the run was key.

After a quick sock change and a thorough layer of sunblock, it was time to head out onto the run course for 3.5 loops through downtown Cambridge.

Run: 4:25:41

The run course was largely flat. Terrain alternated between cobblestones, full sun with no breeze, full shade with a breeze, and partial shade with just enough airflow.

Aid stations were well stocked and mostly well placed. One 1.75-mile stretch without aid proved tricky on the first lap. That gap became easier to manage after the first two of seven passes through the area.

As with the bike, hydration and nutrition strategy were clear and mostly went smoothly. Sweat rate in high humidity sits around 45 oz per hour. After two aid stations, it became obvious that water intake was low.

Adjustments followed quickly. Two cups of water were taken at each end of the aid station, with an extra cup dumped over the head to keep body temperature down.

Gels continued every two miles. Salty foods came in after mile 10, with salt tabs every 30 minutes. Overall, the run unfolded largely according to plan.

Pacing Decisions & Choosing to Enjoy the Race

After three miles, pace started to come into focus. A bit of quick math showed that a 3:50 marathon would be needed to break 11 hours. At the same time, breaking 12 hours felt comfortably within reach.

Instead, the choice was to have fun. Feeling strong and knowing that a 3:50 marathon was possible, it also meant committing to an all-out slog for four hours. That tradeoff did not feel worth it compared to enjoying a race that had been planned and prepared for nearly 10% of my life. With that in mind, fun became the priority.

Cruising around the course, the only goal was to walk through aid stations only. That plan held up well, aside from a brief stretch of walking after a leg cramp at mile 16. Being half a mile from an aid station meant needing water to take a salt tab.

As is typical in endurance races when something is held back, strength started to return around mile 20. At that point, being ready to be done and relax became the motivator. Pace increased gradually, helped by the cooler evening air. The final six miles were pushed hard and brought home strong.

Reflections Beyond the Finish Line

Crossing the finish line was not the greatest day of my life. That title still belongs to marrying Allison. Still, few things in life have required this much time and energy, and that journey taught invaluable lessons about building inevitable results.

Acts of God, like illness in 2019, can still intervene. With the right planning, diligence, and team, however, the impossible can become inevitable. That remains one of the most important lessons learned.